Star Trek: Theurgy

CHAPTER 04: CHARADES | DAY 05 | 1500 hrs.


“Personal Log, stardate 57554.23. As of right now, it had been 48 hours since the battle against the Savi ship. It was not until this morning that the crew of this Vector could find some peace. The Savi fighters hunted us through the Azure Nebula, and the Lone Wolves have truly earned their keep. Captain Wenn made a good choice in taking us to this part of the nebula, where the radiation is far lower, and the wolves and the Sword alike could raise shields that made a difference, which - at least - could hold off the graviton beams for a few seconds. It was enough to make a difference, but if the word from the Wolf Leader is to be believed, the shields on the enemy fighters are still to be reckoned with. Nonetheless, we missed the first Rendevouz with the other Vectors, and the next one is in six hours, at 2100.

Not all of the fighters made it back in that first battle, I heard, but being a man of science, I know very little about the on-goings in the fighter bay. I even heard there was a big saucer craft from the Asurians in there, unless they discarded it already.

What I do know, is what we learned from the scan of the Savi ship. What my scan didn't see, we have been able to estimate. As advanced and strange as that ship was, it still can't defy the laws of physics. Of course, there are many areas we have yet to make sense of, but we are getting there. The question remains, however... Can we even make an attempt to get back our crew - and the Captain - back from that ship, without risking the Theurgy's mission?

Lastly, dreadful news came from sickbay after the battle. I can't give any of it credit... but it seems Doctor Nicander is in the Brig... and... he is one of them. One of the infested. Just like Sonja Acreth. He mentioned Garen Nelis, that he killed the Chief Counselor back when I was hurt. It means he must have been one of the enemies for quite some time. I could have believed it about many others, but the Doctor? Before I went into stasis, wasn't he almost killed by Acreth down on Theta Eridani IV? According to the reports from the battle at Starbase 84, wasn't he the one that fought against Acreth? Nothing makes sense any more.

While I take command of the bridge, they are going down there, the others. To see it. To speak with it.”

[ Dr. Nicander (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Dr._Lucan_cin_Nicander) | Holding Cell A | Brig | Security Center | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @chXinya @Nolan @DocReno @Arista @Doc M. @CanadianVet
[Show/Hide]On his knees in the middle of the holding cell, the overhead light cast Lucan's features in darkness.

He sat there, shivering as the host body was forced to grant him the wish of longevity despite its damages. Of course, the agony was excruciating, exquisite, but Lucan cared naught. He revelled in the pain. Couldn't quite wipe the smirk from his lips as he plotted what he would do once he left the cell. Of course, the options were a bit limited because of the development, which was the reason why he hadn't left already, but he did look forward to the more opportune time, where he could truly cause harm to the surviving crew of the Vector. There was also a limit to how long he could wait, since the host body could not sustain itself indefinitely in such a damaged state. In the end, it would have to be a compromise. By the winds, it would be liberating... to show them all what awaited. The ones in sickbay had merely got a foretaste of it.

When his esteemed guests arrived, Lucan's smile never changed, but his pale grey eyes opened to acknowledge their presence. From the shadows beneath his browridge, he looked at them, the tremor of his host body's struggle evident in the shaking of his remaining hand, which rested on his thigh. His other arm hung loosely at his side, ending in charred stump below his elbow. He still wore his uniform, yet after the touch of fire it had sustained, it remained a smouldered shadow of its usual immaculate state. The worst damage it had suffered, of course, was the phaser beam that had eaten into the side of his waist. Indeed, his right side, below the ribcage and above the hip, a portion of his torso was missing - a cauterised gap where there once was flesh.

On the other side of the forcefield, he met the gaze of the largest figure. Wenn Cinn (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Wenn_Cinn), his old friend, and now an acting Captain for one of the Theurgy's Vectors. Since he'd had the time to recover, Doctor Duv (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Dr._Amelya_Rez) - now Rez - appeared to have arrived as well, along with Doctor Maya (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Dr._Maya), both being key witnesses, he presumed. The former Chief Science Officer was there too, Simon Tovarek (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Simon_Tovarek), now being Wenn Cinn's First Officer, and the Chief Tactical Officer, filling the same role aboard the Sword alone. Lieutenant Keval ch'Rayya (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Keval_ch%27Rayya) looked quite ravishing. Perhaps he'd take his time with the Andorian before he died?

Lastly, there was some security guard there too. Bremmer (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Eliska_Bremmer)? Lucan remembered her from... Wasn't she supposed to be on the away team to the dilithium outpost? Lucan's stare lingered on her, and even though the smirk never faltered, he wondered if the Radiant had made it back aboard the Sword as well. If that was the case... He might have to change his plans a bit. If anyone had to die first, it was the Alata.

"Welcome to my humble abode," he said, his voice normal, and slowly climbed to his feet - the motions disjointed because of the limitations of the host flesh. Once he was standing before them, his smile showed teeth, and he made the caricature of a bow in their direction, flourishing his stump. "Pray tell, have you all come to reminisce, to ask me questions of no consequence, or are you merely here to gawk at the creature you managed to trap? Will you prod and poke it, like children that managed to snare something from the wild?"

The way he emphasised the last word alluded to the chaos which he sprung from.

The nameless darkness that awaited them all.

---

[ Lt. Tyreke Okafor (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Tyreke_Okafor) | Battle Bridge | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Top Hat @Even Angels Cry @Nolan @trevorvw @TrexelCat
[Show/Hide]The battle bridge was filled with the usual benign orders and chatter that always came when a starship remained idle in grey mode, not moving since it might alert any patrolling Savi fighters. It was a thin veil of protection, Tyreke Okafor thought, having studied the scans of the Versant - the dreadnought the fought before the Theurgy split into three.

It was the first time, ever, that Okafor was seated in the Commanding Officer's chair, unless - of course - one might count his Kobayashi Maru test in the Academy. He wasn't sure if anyone was aware of this, but studious as he was, he had made sure to try and brush up on bridge protocol before the shift began. Sitting there, he couldn't help but think back on his years on Bajor, and the time on the Hawkins, on peaceful times before the Theurgy. Before the parasite-infested seized command, and began to incite war. How long had they been around? No one seemed to know for sure.

There was a chirp standing out from the rest, and Okafor raised his eyes. Ensign Thorne (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Jaya_Thorne) was at the helm, even if the ship was standing still, but beyond her, the viewscreen showed a new marker, pulsing faintly with the sound. Okafor's eyes rose. A distress signal?  Out here in the middle of nowhere?

He turned his head towards Ops, looking past Ensign Henshaw (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Cameron_Henshaw), towards the Hermat on duty at hir station. It appeared that Junior Lieutenant Nator (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Nator_159) was already following up on the signal. "What is it?"

---

OOC: This is the starter for Chapter 04: Charades. This thread denotes the hour when the USS Niger and the Sword will cross paths, and all Supplemental Threads that are started will either have to be set before this time of 1500 hrs. on Day 05, or afterwards. No posting order in the Brig, but every writer with a character there has 7 days to reply. @Top Hat posts next in the bridge scene with Nator and Ducote both, the latter setting the scene on the USS Niger.

Just like in the interregnum, Supplemental one-on-one threads are started at your leisure! Supplemental threads should be named Chapter 04: Supplemental [Day XX|YYYY hrs.] Insert Title, and can extend as far back as right after the battle with the Versant and all the way up to 2100 hrs on Day 05, where the second Rendevouz will be missed due to a hostile threat to the Sword.

These are the main tasks to solve, your Mission Objectives in this Chapter: [Show/Hide]Battle Bridge & Closest Deck Interior Blueprint: [Show/Hide]Known staff on the Sword: [Show/Hide]Known staff on the Niger: [Show/Hide]

 [ Maya (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Dr._Maya) | Brig | Security Center | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @chXinya, @Nolan, @DocReno, @Arista, @Auctor Lucan, @CanadianVet

“Why yes, yes we have,” Maya replied in calm conversational tone that was almost pleasant.  “I expect that there will be much prodding and poking, and I myself am not above gawking, for once again we have a tremendous opportunity.  No doubt we will make attempts to reminisce, and to ask you many questions of no consequence,” she continued.  “I expect that you will welcome such distractions for it will allow you an opportunity to exploit our psychological weaknesses and possibly inflict permanent harm.”  Her voice suddenly lost its casual, conversational tone.  “More permanent harm than you have already inflicted upon us of course,” she added without a trace of warmth or emotion.  Her large hazel eyes that had been wide open were now narrow.

“So if you are interested in reminiscing, I will oblige.  Looking back many things that were mysterious are now clear,” she continued.  “It seems unlikely that Garen Nelis (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Garen_Nelis) perished by accident; you were the one who performed the autopsy.  The reason for the involuntary actions I have performed yet I cannot recall has now become perfectly clear in light of this current revelation.  Sarresh Morali's operation.  Looking back, I must confess that the fault was mine for being so trusting.  And as for the questions of no consequence,  I will oblidge:  How much trust has been lost and how many casualties have we taken because of your actions?  Which is the real Lucan cin Nicander, the loathsome underhanded monster you've become or the loathsome underhanded monster we came to love?”

[ Lt Simon Tovarek | Brig | Security Center | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @chXinya, @Doc M., @DocReno, @Arista, @Auctor Lucan, @CanadianVet

Two full days had passed since the encounter with the Savi, two full days had they been hiding in the nebula for now. At least shield were back on track and emergency repairs were being conducted. Strange was the life of a makeshift XO, Simon looked around at the gathered crowd at the cell of Nicander. He recognized most of the faces yet he cared little about it as his eyes were focused on Nicander, or at least what was left of him. The mind of the science officer buzzing with possible ways to prod, dissect, experiment and dismantle the Câroon in the holding cell. However the the outside world, Tovarek looked calm, somewhat agitated perhaps due to the lack of sleep. It was ironic really... Having shared breakfast with the COps and mentioning how he enjoyed the life with less responsibilities, only to be appointed as XO for the continuance protocol. Life surely had weird curves to throw at one.

The Vulcan doctor spoke p now and Tovarek snapped back to attention as he listened to her words and glanced her over. The accusations weren't of the lightest. As CMO, Nicander would have the chance to end the life of those important, corrupt or maim where he pleased, inflict scarring, physical or mentally. Would they need to examine every death and surgical procedure the good doctor did to dig to the bottom of this?

The two core questions Maya asked however were interesting. Simon however wasn't sure how truthful the reply of the creature would be. In captivity he could feed them false replies, statements and the sort. His eyes went from Maya to Nicander once more. Remaining silent for now as he choose to wait and see how things would develop here. His eyes ran from Nicander to Wenn Cinn, resting on the colored man and wondering what was going on in his mind.

---

[ Dr Amelya Rez | Brig | Security Center | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ]

Standing next to Maya stood a familiar Trill face that seemed that seemingly still looked different. As she had awoken rather traumatically from her induced coma, Amelya Rez had taken a day to get her senses back to her. SHe had used the sonic shower for a while and made a drastic decision as she decided to assume her natural hair color. It felt like the right thing to do as she felt different, yet more complete now with the Rez symbiont. Thus she traded her oaken brown hair to her natural blonde hair and it felt right as she looked at herself in the mirror. The past hours she has used her time to clean up and take charge of Medical. The dark green eyes of the Medical officer resting on Nicander as a lot of information had been granted to her due to the addition of the Rez symbiont to her. She remained silent as she let Maya speak, the Vulcan doctor being paramount to why she was standing here today. The follow up after the capture of Nicander preventing further harm to be done to the Trill.

Standing in her teal uniform with the familiar lab coat Nicander used to wear draped over her shoulders and back she gazed at the abomination standing barely in the holding cell. Wearing the white coat was perhaps deliberate, to mock Nicander into lashing out and giving them more than it should. It could very well be a psychological move as Nicander's uniform was scarred, melted into his skin at certain points. She could only wonder the amount of pain he was in. Yet despite her oath to help those in need, she could only feel a mild form of amusement in watching him like this. She knew what he had done to Edena Rez, how he had been a key figure in the mission failure at SB 84. Yet she also got an insight as to why he did so. How ever wrong or right as it might've been. Who was he to decide for the lives of those that were lost during the battle. He had no right did he? Even if it was under the excuse that the loss of those lives would prevent the loss of lives of many more.

Amelya shifted her stance as she formed two fists in the pockets of her lab coat. She wondered what nonsense or cryptic messages Nicander could spout out this time. She hoped for the truth, yet held no real hope for it. She looked over the rest of the assembled crew before looking back at Nicander, a stern expression on her face as she wanted to do nothing more but finish him off for what he had done to all of them. Despite the knowledge and evidence trapped inside him. Perhaps that was just the initial rage speaking up inside of her... or did Nicander plant something inside of her too?

[Lt. Commander Wenn Cinn | Brig | Security Center | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy]

Ever since he walked through the door, Commander Wenn’s dark eyes were locked onto the gruesome corpse that was Dr. Nicander, sealed behind the most powerful forcefield they could project.  He’d seen the reports from when the Harbringer had contained Sonja Acreth and had applied them when she was transferred here later on so they had an idea on how to handle this…thing, but Nicander presented a complication.  Being a Câroon gave the “man” abilities that might overcome their defenses, and with what he’s seen other possessed people do, the results would calamitous if it got out.

That said, even knowing that there was absolutely nothing he or anyone could do if Nicander got out of that cell, Cinn had to be here, face the very thing that was the source of all of their pain.  His dark face had to be showing the tension in his pagh though, and it was an effort to keep his emotions under control.  With so many of his senior officers here in the brig, if Nicander got out it would be a massacre.  Worse, Rez was standing right there in the group.  Cinn knew that she was a different person, her face and body were clearly different than Edena, but she was still Rez, the one who’d shared his bed, and his heart.  It was beyond tempting to send her away, or even just stand between her and the cell, but both would be futile.

The thing wearing Lucan’s face finally started to speak, and as usual for those possessed by the parasites, it had nothing but disdain (at best) for its captors.  Maya fired right back with her own taunts, even if they were very matter-of-fact, just like a Vulcan.  Cinn watched in silence, waiting to see what might happen, gauging the mood from each of his compatriots.

[ Lt JG Nator 159 | Battle Bridge | The Sword ] Attn: @Even Angels Cry @Nolan @Auctor Lucan

The Hermat let out another bored sigh, reaching for the mug of steaming spcie tea standing on the corner of hir console. The aroma was maintaining its wonderful job of drowning the scent of a bunch of tired and stressed humanoids in a single compartment, try as the environmental circuit might to keep things moving. At least sickbay had sorted hir back injury without issue; some muscular and dermal regeneration, as well as a good protein and fluid intake, and s/he was feeling just fine in the morning. Idly, s/he wondered if Stark had survived the escape.

Still, the last few days had been... sombre. Even for hir taciturn demeanour. There was usually some gentle hubbub to be heard on the crew decks, of people off-shift and conversing. Since the Vectors had split according to the Continuance Protocol, there had been little of it at all.

Slowly, s/he closed hir eyes as s/he brought the mug to hir nose. Before s/he could sip, though, the console before hir trilled a contact. Hurriedly, s/he set the cup back down again to free both hands. A Savi ship would have taken them to red alert automatically, but there were plenty of things that could-

What the f-

"What is it?" came the question from the well-built human in the centre seat.

A few taps at hir console brought up a comparison table. "Warp signature reads a Runabout, sir; crawling along at warp three. I'm... not sure how they got this far out, Captain. Possible that their home vessel is nearby - I would call this 'bait'."

Task Force Archeron could hardly have been expected to give up. And even the Azure Nebula couldn't have hidden every scrap of energy released in the battle with the Savi scant days before. If this was some sort of trick courtesy of Admiral Sankolov's forces...

Gradually, the silhouette resolved... mostly. It didn't seem to be a standard runabout. If that's what it was. It was also, astronomically speaking, right on top of them. Then, hir console trilled again.

"Sir, they're hailing us. EM band."

---

[ Cmdr Ranaan Ducote | Pilot Cabin | USS Niger ] Attn: @trevorvw @TrexelCat


Eventually, the runabout had to settle into a routine. Such as it was, anyway. Days had gone by; evidently the Cube had been travelling at a much higher warp than they could manage inside the nebula with their damaged, rearranged shuttle craft. Their route had remained ruler-straight the entire time, which had been a trial all of its own. Keeping an eye on the sensor return became a trial when it never changed. Only the fact that the warp trail would drop under their detection threshold with increasing regularity even let them know that there wasn't some data loop in the ODN network.

Even a signature with the magnitude commensurate with a Cube would decay eventually. Ducote ground his teeth together; if they lost the trace, then they'd all but abandoned the survivors of the Endeavour crew. It wasn't as if escape pod beacons were particularly quiet. They could have picked up at least one and taken them to 234 or something.

Second guesses are the enemy, Ran.

The console trilled; Ducote started to say "Thank God," out of habit but stopped when he realised it hadn't been the usual bleep of a reacquired contact but the more insistent alert to a new one.

He sat up, accumulated tiredness clearing from his eyes as the adrenaline kicked in. "Hey! A warp trail! A Federation one!" he called back aft. Except, wait.. not a warp trace, a straight-up nacelle radiation pattern. A ship! A fair distance away, but close enough the subspace impression of their warp coils was apparent to their half-finished sensor array.

"Get the emergency beacon going," he ordered to the compartment at large.

Christ, the chances against stumbling across another friendly ship this deep into the nebula were literally astronomical. And the chance to warn the Federation at large (yay for functioning subspace communication arrays!) was too good to waste. He didn't bother taking the time to wonder what exactly a ship was doing all the way out here in a radiation field. Even a science ship like the Endeavour would have preferred unmanned probes and deep scans to actually flying around inside the thing.

Something about 'gift horses', right?

The Brazilian reached towards the communication console and punched at the parts of the board that were perpetually red out of sheer habit. Their wrecked subspace array was an endless pain in the ass. Moving his hand to the EM panel, he opened a narrowbeam transmission to better pierce the ambient noise of the nebula.

"Federation starship, this is Commander Ducote of the USS Niger. Please respond."

He set the message to loop to help cover any packet loss, and rearranged their course. "Kai, bring us about. I'll make sure the others are ready to go."

[ PO2 Eliska Bremmer | Brig | Security Center | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy]

Brig duty wasn't one Petty Officer Second Class Eliska Bremmer drew often.  Oh, certainly she could keep watch on some reprobates one the far side of the forcefields just like anyone else who was part of the Security branch.  But that wasn't what brought her down there this morning.  First thing that day, she had received a rather odd briefing.  She had seen some of the footage before, but it had been followed up by a series of analysis about the capabilities of one someone possessed by one of those parasites.  There was even something from a civilian name Drauc, and from Commander Marquez, no less.

And those were scary all right.  And that was what they had in the brig; the chief medical officer, missing a number of non-trivial parts of his anatomy, still standing when he should have keeled over and died a long time ago.  And she was part of the backup team when there would be an interview with that prisoner.  Partially, as she'd been told, because Commander Wenn asked for her specifically; apparently, he said she was one of those he trusted to get the job done.  And because he trusted her to know enough to now when it was appropriate to shoot first and ask questions later.

And that sent her, once again, into her exo-suit.  If that thing got loose, she would need every edge she could get.  And given just how tough that particular bit of armour was, it might be just enough to keep the Nicander-thing from ripping her apart limb from limb with its remaining hand.  Well, her and the other two ACS-qualified people she could scrounge on Vector 2.  Well, there was another one but she wasn't available.  And it was a shame, since she was an old war buddy, and one of two people Eliska would have at her back any day of the week.  The other had been on Vector 1 when the battle started, and they were both incommunicado at this point. 

So, there she stood in the Brig, being point with the three-man team that would be watching the Chief's back and that of a couple of Medical types who would be there for the interview.  She was closest to them, the first to be in a position to respond.  The second man, another Dominion War veteran, but one she didn't know as they had served in different theaters, was the second line of defence, in a back-up position.  And the third was just some crewman she doubted even needed to shave, but had been sent to ACS practically right out of basic security training.  If it got to him, well, the entire security force left on the Vector would be converging on the Brig by then.  Or they'd have beamed Nicander into space or something.  That, and the Brig itself, and the whole Security Center, had been all but evacuated and sealed from the outside to contain the monster if it got loose.  But their instructions had been simple.  Draw rifles, and set both pistols and rifle to Level 7, high enough to remove parts from him and leave some serious scoring on the bulkheads.  And the rules of engagement had been simple: if there was a need to shoot, shoot; and keep doing so until told otherwise or there isn't anything big enough to be worth shooting anymore. 

When the interview began, Bremmer was there, with a clear line of sight towards Nicander, her rifle in the shoulder and at a point midway between a low ready and snapped all the way up.  Even with the artificial musculature of the exosuit, holding a weapon up could take its toll after a while, and if she needed to react, she couldn't afford being the least bit tired.  And, really, she would let them do the talking.  After all, she was just the hired muscle here.

[LT Keval ch'Rayya| Brig | Security Center| Vector 2| USS Theurgy] ATTN:  @chXinya @Doc M. @CanadianVet @Nolan @Arista @Auctor Lucan

Keval was quiet as he studied the creature within the cell with the man who wasn’t a man moving into a standing position, its attempt to be clever simply made his antenna twitch as the Theurgy’s CIO simply tapped the slender black PADD against his right thigh.

He silently listened to the comments made by his fellow officers and noted with a smile at the security rating keeping her weapon trained on Nicander and nodded his approval to Petty Officer before he turned his attention back to the creature, a trained eye noticing how he in turn was being studied like he was a bug in a jar…

… much like how Keval was viewing him.

“Our disgust at his actions aside, one must play the devil’s advocate for a moment and respect the amount of effort put into his efforts into screwing us over.” Keval said, his tone low and flat as he stepped forward, his dark eyes glaring at the creature that wore a man’s face before turning to look at Cinn. “I have a theory, sir, and I only have half of the relevant data at hand so that I can only provide only a partial outline until we hook back up to the primary vector but other then that, I can provide you what I have when you wish.”

Keval then turned and looked at the Vulcan doctor. “To answer your question though, Doctor, I do believe that we may have never met the actual Doctor Nicander.”

The chaan then offered up a polite bowing of his head towards her, “But then again, that is my simple thought.”

Keval then turned to face Nicander, "But that does pose a question doesn't, my bad doctor?" he asked, his antenna angled downwards as he gave the creature an expressionless look, light blue eyes tight and focused. "How many lives did you destroy in order to screw over the Theurgy's planned operation at the starbase? How many men and women right now either in stasis or the morgue of this very dreadnought did you put there because that and please spare us the monologues and stay to the heart of the facts."

[ Lt Cmdr Vael Kaeris | Aft -> Pilot Cabin | USS Niger ] Attn: @trevorvw  @TrexelCat  @Top Hat

He'd spent the better part of his time on board optimizing the limited resources of the runabout to accommodate the comparatively vast number of personnel currently housed aboard.  Oxygen scrubbers, environmental systems, even the gravity plating would be taxed by the unplanned load.  At best, this was little more than a lifeboat, one that might get them to some form of relative safety.  He'd been secretly disappointed that they'd come away from an encounter with the borg with less than they'd started.  If he could have gotten his hands on even a portion of their database...

But such thoughts were a distraction and he was nothing if not notorious in his focus while on duty.  He'd managed to find a reasonable compromise between comfort and efficiency in most of the systems, but he was still concerned with food rations.  Using the replicator to keep everyone well fed depleted their energy reserves ever more and the runabout hadn't exactly been supplied for an extended run given as it had been under sensor upgrades before this unplanned adventure began.

Standing, he swept a lock of his long black hair out of his face. He disliked such informality in his appearance while on duty, extended as it was, but circumstances had necessitated that he sacrifice the pins that he normally used to keep his hair neatly arranged in order to bypass some circuits that had been damaged during the initial onslaught.

After ensuring a presentable appearance once more, he turned and stepped through the door leading to the cabin.  "Commander," he reported, giving a practiced and graceful incline of his head.  "I've managed to optimize our energy systems by an additional 32.6%.  I estimate that will extend our viable resources by another 72 hours provided we eat sparingly and avoid any unforeseen difficulties." 

The borg, he mentally noted, were a wholly foreseen difficulty at this point, and one he questioned whether an overcrowded runabout would survive.  He didn't relish the thought of becoming assimilated just for the sake of a sensor upgrade.  True, they needed to find the rest of their crew, their ship, but he held out some hope that Commander Ducote would set course out of the nebula as soon as possible.  But, such concerns were held privately, filed away neatly in the back of his mind behind his sense of duty and protocol.  It was the Commander's call in the end, and Vael would support his decision to the best of his abilities.

[ Lt. Tyreke Okafor (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Tyreke_Okafor) | Battle Bridge | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ] Joint-Post by Auctor Lucan & Top Hat
Attn: @Top Hat @Even Angels Cry @Nolan @trevorvw @TrexelCat @steelphoenix @Mathis
[Show/Hide][Federation starship, this is Commander Ducote of the USS Niger. Please respond.]

Once the message was cleared up, since it was only heard over the EM band, Okafor frowned and turned to the assembled bridge crew. "Check the database, please. Who is this officer?"

The better question was, of course, why he and whoever else were on a Runabout in the middle of the Azure Nebula. Did it belong to Task Force Archeron? There were a lot of questions, but the sensors suggested that the Runabout was damaged. That much he could tell, but why? Why would a damaged Runabout belong to Admiral Sankolov's fleet? Did they run into the Savi? The Asurians? Before he could make a decision, he had to know more. "Someone message Captain Wenn, please," he said and then nodded to Ops to patch his voice through. Should he pretend they were some other ship? So many thoughts and decisions on the fly. He sorely missed his lab.

"This.... is the USS Vanguard," he said, the only Sovereign-class ship he came to think of that wasn't in Task Force Archeron, as far as he was aware. At least the class would be reminiscent in size to the Sword. "You are broadcasting a distress signal, and you appear to be alone. What happened?"

[The Vanguard?] Pause. [Seems our sensors are damaged worse than we thought. Our ship - the Endeavour - was destroyed by the Borg a few days ago. We've been tracking their route to point-of-origin through the nebula since then to see if this is a full-scale invasion.]

Whatever Okafor had meant to say, the words turned to ashes in his mouth, eyes widening. No, that couldn't be right. He looked around the bridge, seeing his thoughts reflected in the bridge crew's faces. Had they heard the same thing? Okafor cleared his throat, his heart-rate suddenly elevated. "Please repeat, Commander. It sounded like you just said 'the Borg'. Please confirm?"

[Confirmed.]

Numbly, Okafor had to step away from where he had hovered behind Nator's shoulder, slowly pacing through the bridge. How could it be? The Borg wouldn't appear on the border to the Beta Quadrant. By all accounts, they would invade from the Delta Quadrant. There was no word from Wenn Cinn, and the only way to learn more was to continue talking with the people on this Runabout. Of all the things he had feared to happen as he took on bridge duty, hearing that the Borg had destroyed the Endeavour was not one of them. Okay, pragmatism. We need more data. How? They will not believe that we are a Sovereign-class ship indefinitely. We only have this window of opportunity.

It was a half-baked idea, but given the slim options he had at his disposal, and the magnitude of the situation, what was he supposed to do?

"This is the Vanguard," he said, thinking fast, hoping he was doing the right thing. "Stand by to receive docking coordinates. The Captain will debrief you here, and... I am sorry for your losses."

And I am equally sorry for this... He turned to Miss Thorne. "Make a slight course change towards that dense cloud in the nebula there." Then he turned to the Hermat next to Throne. "Ops, what's the visual range inside it, by your estimation?"

"Practically nothing; less than a kilometre," said Nator. "Silhouette has resolved some, sir. That is not a standard Danube."

After a pause, the reply from the Niger came through. [Thank you, Vanguard. Standing by.]

Biting his teeth together, Okafor was beginning to regret his decision already, but it was too late. "What's special about it?" he asked Nator, but turned to Cameron Henshaw. "Misson Ops. We'll have visitors in the fighter bay. Given the interrogation, we are short-handed on security personnel, right? Could you please ask the pilots on duty to receive the Niger? I am afraid they might be hostile when they realise who we are."

Nator waited for the scientist to finish his next order before replying. "Aside from some apparent impact damage to the nose and fuselage, its mission pod has been modified outside of the standard configurations listed in our database. Without a scan or pulling it apart I can't tell you what it's for."

"Noted," said Okafor, not liking an unknown element. "Henshaw, make sure the SCO knows this too. Nator, once we have a lock on the Runabout with a tractor beam, you need to be ready to act if they do something rash, like opening fire while they are tractored in. Then, you'll have to change the polarities of the beam, repelling them, and either Tactical CONN or we will have to disable the shuttle."

All this just to learn more about the Borg? No, they had to know. As a scientist, he knew the import of data, and what the Niger brought was key to the continuation of the mission. Okafor took a deep breath. "Send the coordinates."

---

OOC: A few stragglers still, but let's move on nonetheless. So! @Nolan and @Top Hat goes next, order unimportant. Once @Nolan has posted, 7 days response time begins for affected Tactical CONN and Fighter Bay Ops officers. Once @Top Hat posts, 7 days response time begins for the officers on the Niger, which includes @steelphoenix , @Mathis , @trevorvw and @TrexelCat . I will be posting in the Fighter Assault Bay too, if nothing else to help further the scene. My next post is with Nicander in the Brig scene. :)

[ Dr. Nicander (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Dr._Lucan_cin_Nicander) | Holding Cell A | Brig | Security Center | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: 1) @Nolan  2) The rest: @chXinya @Arista @Doc M. @CanadianVet
[Show/Hide]Standing there, with the forcefield separating them for the time being, Lucan smiled towards Doctor Maya when she spoke in her Vulcan calmness, her tone as conversational as if they were discussing shift rotations in his office again.

What galled Lucan was not her tone, however, since it had been expected from her. It was how she did not leap to denial, trying to refute him. Instead, she was acknowledging all that he claimed, confirming all points he'd made. The only change, was when she spoke of her own experiences, for he saw her eyes narrow to slits. Only then was he content; when he knew she had realised the extent of his violation of her, and how it had begun. He only wished she knew the full extent of her crimes in his name. She spoke of Garen Nelis, of the neurological treatment of Sarresh Morali, but knew far too little, instead asking to learn more. Indeed, as she said, obliging him, even if she thought he'd always been a loathsome monster. If she only knew.

The Andorian spoke up next, while the others remained virtually silent. Keval deferred to 'Captain' Wenn, but what he said to Maya actually came closer to the truth. They did not know him. Not truly, but if there was one version that they might know better, then it was the host mind that the Radiant had made manifest. After all, that mind was the template. The mould which he had filled. The glove her wore, just like he wore this decimated body before them.

In the end, both Maya and ch'Rayya wanted to know what he had done, so he spoke, casually pacing his cell, even if the host body still trembled with broken synapses. "How many?" he asked derisively, flexing his remaining tattooed hand. "You said you'd oblige me with questions of no consequence, and this is your first, I take it? Wouldn't it be more in your interest to ask me... 'How many more'?"

He said this with a sinister smile, his eyes alone turning to them. "If we are to dwell on the past, however, we might be here a long time. Indeed, Mister ch'Rayya, I have worn this skin-puppet for many years. I was here when this ship was commissioned. During every physical exam, every surgery, every seemingly heroic feat the host made. I was here, always, when you learned to know the good doctor. Some more than others... Yet admittedly... I was only in a diminished state. Irksome as it has been, this particular breed of skin-puppet is hard to control, yet with its abilities, oh, it has been worth the wait. Now, when the host needs me to stay alive, I have assumed full control at last, and I am not limited by the weakness of this mortal flesh."

He stepped closer to the forcefield, which cast his face in garish light. "This has been a long time coming, you see, but I regret none of it, granting you all life day by day, wondering if you'd ever get wise enough to see me before you all died," he said, curling his upper lip. His pale eyes were almost white in the light of the field just before his face, and he was looking at his 'friend', Wenn Cinn, whom he so recently shared stories with on the eve of battle. He had already died once, amusingly enough.

"Rez, I like your new hair...." he said next, his eyes darting to the Trill. "Yet as for Starbase 84... I think you might as well answer on Jona's behalf. Tell them what you did... after I enabled you to do so. I had no part in Jona's betrayal, no more than giving you the opportunity, merely as a concerned member of the crew. Was it not you who deleted all the personal logs meant for friends and family back home, and changed the Simulcast? Surely it was not I. For while I may have done a lot of things... I am innocent in that particular regard."

Lucan said this with knowing smile, stepping away from the forcefield - the light shimmering across his charred uniform.

---

OOC: The next one to post is @Nolan and after he does so with Amelya Rez, 7 days response time begins for all present characters in the brig. :)

[ Ens. Cameron Henshaw | Battle Bridge | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ]

Looking a bit astonished at the viewscreen before looking at the acting bridge officer, Cameron could only stare and listen as the distorted audio of the runabout scrambled through the speakers of the bridge. She felt a shiver run down her spine when they mentioned the Borg, yet looked back at her console a she looked up who this Commander Ducote was. It took some time before she could reply "Commander Ducote indeed logs as an officer aboard the USS Endeavour, Lieutenant," was the reply from Cameron to Tyreke when there was a moment of silence between both parties.

She couldn't help but wonder what the ship must've gone through when facing the Borg, the more pressing matter however was why the Borg were in the Alpha Quadrant. She closed her eyes as she realized that the Sword alone would not be able to do much on it's own if they would run across a Borg cube. Their fates would probably be similar to Endeavour's.

Looking at the flight roster, two Lone Wolves were on patrol paths close to Sword. The fighters ready to be sent out for rapid response should the need arise. The situation might dictate such a response now, yet Cameron looked over at Tyreke once more. He claimed that they were the Vanguard so giving away anything that could compromise their cover would be catastrophic for both parties. She informed both fighters to stand ready, yet to remain out of visual range of the incoming shuttle.

Tyreke discussed further details with Nator as the runabout seemed anything but standard and eventually she got an order from the lieutenant. Inform the SCO and prepare a security force led by TAC CONN to welcome the new guests. She nodded and replied "Understood sir."

She turned to face the console entirely now before contacting Thomas Ravon.

---

[ Lt Cmdr. Thomas 'Razor' Ravon | Hangar Deck | Fighter Assault Bay | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: All Tac CONN+ USS Niger

Thomas had just finished addressing the remaining pilots. He had been debriefed about the away mission to the Coreless Moon and had given the squadron a rundown about the suffered loss of Honey Badger. The fighters had been rearranged on the landing slots so they'd be less spread out and easier to access in case of an emergency scramble. A new squadron chart showed who would fly with who for the next couple of days on patrol. Most pilots had scattered from the briefing room by then, either looking over their ships or socializing with one another as Ravon's combadge chirped.

[Ravon, this is Henshaw. We've been hailed by a runabout that apparently survived a Borg attack. We're bringing it in for landing. Due to security being short staffed, would you be able to get your pilots to overlook docking procedures and welcome our new guests? Be advised, we are not sure if they'll turn hostile once they figure out we're the Theurgy. So far we've given them the intel that we're the USS Vanguard. Act accordingly. Henshaw out.]

Thomas blinked a few seconds before he cleared his throat and tapped his badge once more "All wolves, rally up. Grab your weapons from your fighters and meet me at the hangar deck. Double time. Ravon out."

With a sigh Thomas ran over to his fighter and fetched the Mk III phaser assault rifle. He charged it up and set it for stun as he stopped in the middle of the hangar deck and looked at the bay doors. He tapped his badge once more to inform Sten about the situation as well "Covington, we got incoming guests. Federation folks, but I'm not clear what their intentions might be. You might want to get your pups out of the way in case it gets ugly," he said and looked over his shoulder to check where the rest of his squadron was before his voice boomed through the bay "Move it up people! Time's pretty short here."

The hangar bay doors were already sliding open as the silhouette of the Niger became apparent. Ravon couldn't make out if the ship was being tractor-beamed in or if it was charging up weapons. He kept his rifle aimed at the ground yet ready to be pointed up and fire away. As he heard the footsteps of his fellow wolves close in he looked left and right.

"I want two fire teams, both on the flanks. Your weapons on high in case we need to fire at the Runabout. I want two others with me with rifles set to stun. Remember, these people might be friendly but they just got through a nasty encounter with the Borg. Along with us being branded as traitors, they might come out guns blazing. Be prepared for anything yet do NOT provoke them. Clear?"

Thomas narrowed his eyes as the USS Niger came in now and landed in front of them. It was showtime.

---

[ Dr. Amelya Rez | Brig | Security Centre | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ] @chXinya @Arista @Doc M. @CanadianVet

Standing before the holding cell with her hands tucked away in the lab coat she wore, Amelya looked at Nicander in silence as first. Maya and then an Andorian man took the lead. It wouldn't take long for Nicander to reply, and Amelya was preparing herself for a once more theatrical show of whatever the parasite had in store for them.

It addressed her. The eyes of the people present were burning on her bare skin as if she were wearing nothing at all. Amelya turned herself to face the former doctor fully. Whilst doing so, the blonde hair of the Trill swayed in the process, almost waving a little before she stepped closer to the force field. She stopped with safe distance between the field and herself as she reminded herself what had happened between Acreth and Nicander in a previous interrogation on the Harbinger. She had seen it both through her own eyes, and Edena's.

"Nicander." she addressed him with a faint smile on her lips. "Whilst what you claim Jona did... deleting the personal logs, changing the simulcast... It's all true..." she answered before she looked down at her feet. "You are, however, forgetting one key action here. It was with your help, and your help alone, that Edena was tricked to lay down on your biobed. You helped her suppress her hosts, or that's what she believed. In fact, you imprisoned, caged... exiled her former hosts, all save for one. You locked them away in a bottomless pit where there was no return. It was you. You unleashed Jona Rez and only him upon this ship to change the Simulcast and sabotage our whole mission. So instead of accusing the Rez symbiont for this, I would reflect upon YOUR actions leading up to this debacle. You basically killed Edena Rez in that moment, Doctor. You gave her and her hosts no means or options to fight back or stop Jona. I might even add that you knew his intentions all along, should he'd be unleashed upon this ship. You knew what kind of threat he formed to our mission," she concluded bitterly as she could vividly feel the pain and despair her former hosts had felt. Tears running down her face before she wiped them away. She shook her head chuckling. "Yet look at you now..."

She looked up at Nicander, eyes narrowing and her voice turning darker. "You're a mystery, though, Doctor. For whilst your actions could've costed us all our lives on numerous occasions, you chose to save us instead. I can't help but wonder why? Why go through all the effort to find a cure for the Niga virus, which would've compromised the entire ship and spread across all the Quadrants, just in the way Acreth claimed it would have. The virus that was planted on Niga was put there by your very essence. Why sabotage your mission? To gain trust? Why do so later, fighting Sonja Acreth together with Heather McMillan? I've read the reports... It makes no sense. You aid us in times where the enemy would have us wiped out of existence. Which in turn stands completely opposite of what you're aiming to do," she questioned as she paced along in front of the cell.

"Is it because you... As a parasite... fear death itself?" she asked it, seeking to provoke it. "Nature's parasites need a host to thrive in, live in. With the loss of the good doctor here, your time would come to an end. Are you afraid of it? Do you have a will to live that's stronger than your goal to wipe us all out?" she tested it further as she came to a stop and folded her hands behind her back, assuming the pose Nicander too on more than one occasion. The sole goal to mock the creature inside Nicander, or to see if there was more to it.

[Lt. Kai Akoni| USS Niger | Pilot Cabin] Attn: @Top Hat, @TrexelCat, @Steelphoenix et al

“Sitting and waiting...what fun” Kai mumbled under his breath and specifically to no one in particular. No one had responded so he felt that either no one had heard him or no one had anything to add.  Either way it didn’t matter to Kai as he was now manning the conn of the half functional runabout.

If we find the Borg, it won’t last long Kai thought to himself, but chose to push the negative thoughts about everything and decided to focus on his job.

Kai sipped his Raktajino while zoning out in his seat at the conn. He was periodically adjusting the runabout’s course to keep her straight, he wasn’t even thinking about it at this time. After a few days it had become second nature and muscle memory. His thoughts had drifted to the Endeavour and the crew and people he knew and worked with. He had hoped against all odds that more people made it, but the realist in him realized that more often than not, an encounter with the Borg usually doesn’t end well.

His thoughts were interrupted by an urgent trilling of the computer. It had taken a couple of seconds to fully register with Kai what was making the noise and how it wasn’t the usual sound they had been dealing with for a couple of days.

By the time it registered on a conscious level, Ducote had made his way to the computer.

“Hey! A warp trail! A Federation one!" Ducote exclaimed, which caused Kai to snap to. His fingers flew over the smooth console, pressing buttons trying to triangulate the source of the warp trail.

"Get the emergency beacon going" the Commander ordered to no one in particular. Kai took the order and ran with it as he tapped away furiously at the console to get the emergency beacon activated. After a few seconds, the computer confirmed that the beacon was activated and transmitting.

I’m surprised it worked that quick

Ducote was recording his message for the emergency beacon when Kai heard his name.

"Kai, bring us about. I'll make sure the others are ready to go."

”Aye sir” came the reply from Kai as Ducote headed to make sure the rest of the crew was ready to get to work and hopefully be rescued. Kai’s fingers pressed some more buttons on the conn and brought the Runabout around as they headed for the source of the warp trail as best as they could figure.

[ Cmdr Ranaan Ducote | Pilot Cabin | USS Niger ] Attn: @steelphoenix @TrexelCat @trevorvw @Nolan @Mathis

On his way aft, he was intercepted by Commander Kaeris with a report on resources. The man had one of the more interesting personnel jackets Ducote had had the pleasure of reading, but his efficiency and dedication to detail had been nothing but a boon to the various assignments to which the Indy had been sent. And oh, how I would happily take the universe's most crushingly-dull lunar survey right now...

"Thank you, Commander. Hopefully, we no longer have need for them; we've been rescued." Rather than slip by him, though, he instead stopped short. "Actually, could you help the docs get everyone ready to evac? With any luck we're getting off this tin-can today."

The console trilled once more, demanding his attention, and he hurriedly retook his seat as the ship responded to their hail. They matched the EM band and narrowbeam profile to help punch through the radiation of the nebula, perhaps working out that there was a good reason for their using such old-school methods of communication.

[This... is the USS Vanguard. You are broadcasting a distress signal, and you appear to be alone. What happened?]

"The Vanguard?" The slightest frown crossed Ducote's features for an instant before disappearing - gift horse, and all that. Even if the reply was a little strangely-worded. Ducote tapped a side panel, accessing the registry database. A Sovereign-class... hadn't he seen that name in a report somewhere recently, too? And the silhouette was off. He shook his head. Half-done refits; fuck's sake. "Seems our sensors are damaged worse than we thought..."

There was a back-and-forth, and an understandable break in the contact after he confirmed the statement on the Borg. He could hardly blame them. Something nagged at his paranoia, though. He was sure the Vanguard was on some flag-flying operation near Bajor. Friend of a friend was on it.

[This is the Vanguard. Stand by to receive docking coordinates...]

Ducote sat back, as his conviction grew. He folded his arms, pinching his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger knuckle. "Kai, are you armed?" The XO had long since unbuckled his belt rig, but was starting to feel an itch to strap it back on. The type-I he habitually carried had never left his trouser pocket, but there was some lizardine part of his brain that was craving the psychological security of some superior firepower right about now. He sighed. "There's something fucky going on, here.."

Reaching out, he reopened the channel. "Thank you, Vanguard. Standing by."

As the coordinates came in, he settled back as Kai took care of flying for a bit. Come to think of it, the one he'd been speaking to hadn't introduced himself, either. He scowled as they lost sight of the ship in a dust cloud. Was that deliberate, or a mere coincidence of their course? He jumped as a docking tractor locked onto their hull. Looking out of the window as the vessel hove back into view, he almost charitably considered the ship a refit; the nacelles were different from most Sovereigns he'd seen. But it was one strangeness too far. "Well, shit. What's-"

He stopped dead as he read the pennant on the spine of the ship, planted dead square in the middle of the landing strip to what was an assault/launch bay, not a mere shuttlebay after all.

USS THEURGY NX-79854

"Motherfucker," he growled. "The fucking Theurgy?! God does have a sense of humour."

They were trapped. Locked in a tractor beam they couldn't overpower, in a cramped ship with three days' comestibles, minimal weapons they still couldn't afford to use, the Borg to one side and the quadrant's most notorious traitors to the other. I fucking hated my Kobayashi Maru, too. At length, they were drawn into the bay and deposited on the deck. The tractor beam did not disengage. Running figures entered the bay, type-III rifles shouldered.

Ducote resisted the urge to put a fist through his console. We were this close to safety. Santa Maria preserve us.

Several long moments passed, and the XO looked over at Kai, his face drawn and clearly aware of what he was about to ask. "Seal the airlock. If they try and breach it... repel."

A final deep breath, as he stared at the people in front of the shuttle and the bulkhead behind them, and he tapped his badge. "Ducote to... 'Vanguard' bridge."

---

[ Lt JG Nator 159 | Battle Bridge | The Sword ] Attn: @Nolan @Auctor Lucan  

The runabout seemed all wrong. Even assuming their story was legitimate, their presence seemed too perfect with Archeron hovering outside the Azure like a pack of wolves. At least its mission pod seemed too small to house anything particularly destructive, and its readable power signature was too low to be dangerous. But still. This had 'trap' written all over it, whether or not the person running the ruse had done their homework on ship names and command staff.

S/he acknowledged the order to be ready to throw the runabout away as soon as they did anything stupid, and switched hir console to have a view off their stern to watch the Niger come in. No weapons power-up detected... so far so good. Until they touched down, and none of the expected landing procedures were followed; no engine throttling, umbilical port opening, anything. Their shields were also still up, if only at a 'navigational' setting that was certainly prudent for the nebula. Looks like the jig is up.

"Sir, they're not-"

[Ducote to... 'Vanguard' bridge.] The voice on the other end was more clearly heard now; evidently using their combadge rather than relying on EM radio. Its tone had changed quite significantly, however. Quieter, more evenly-paced. Behind the speech were the bleeps and trills of commands being input to a console. Hir own panel threw up a warning.

[Remove your crewmen from the bay and release your tractor beam, unless you are as scientifically curious as I am about the effects of a maximum-burn fusion exhaust on a pressurised compartment.]

Nator's face fell as s/he went over the sensor warning. "Lieutenant, the fuel pressure in the Niger's impulse manifold is increasing." S/he didn't need to tell anyone present that there was a reason all docking areas, pressurised or not, mandated manoeuvring thrusters only until clear. An impulse exhaust had to push a ship massing potentially millions of tonnes around at fat fractions of lightspeed; their output was phenomenal.

[Looks as if you have enough guns out there to burn through these shields eventually. But I can guarantee that time is longer than it will take me to press 'Execute'.]

---

_{ooc: heehee}

[ Lieutenant Elro Kobol (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Ayden_Tyre) | Aft Area | USS Niger | @Top Hat @trevorvw @steelphoenix @TrexelCat
[Show/Hide]Elro pressed his thumb and index finger into the inner corners of his eyes, hoping the pressure and sheer willpower would exercise the stress-headache he was currently dealing with. He sighed when it, surprise, didn’t. He looked down at the tricorder results, fatigue making his vision a little blurry, causing him to squint a little bit. The patient was stable, which was as good as he was going to get for now. He looked around the makeshift infirmary, taking up just part of the back room of the runabout, USS Niger, their new home for the time being. He absently went to put the tricorder in his white coat pocket only to remember in time to not drop the thing, that his coat had been made into a makeshift pillow for one of his patients. He set the device down on one of the consoles and tried to decide if he would finally try to get some sleep. He’d spent most if not all of his time in this room since being beamed aboard directly from a Sickbay they couldn’t have escaped otherwise.

Sleep had been elusive since their escape. His mind kept flashing to images of Sickbay aboard the Endeavour on fire, faces of patients he couldn’t save, the feeling of the thoughts and emotions of hundreds of terrified, dying friends. He had had to shut out his psionic senses, it had been too much for him to process. Even now he tried to find something to focus on, but all his patients were as good as he could make them, which for some was just to make them comfortable. What he wouldn’t give to be back in his office in Sickbay, listening to music and reading a silly romance novel waiting for his shift to start.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, opening his sense just enough to encompass the runabout, getting a general feel of everyone’s emotional state. Without their counselor aboard, it would be his duty to see after everyone’s morale and mental well-being as well, especially after a tragedy. He tried not to single anyone out right now, but he did notice that there was some excitement in the cockpit, maybe they’d found something? He focused in on Commander Ducote, feeling as their acting CO’s surface emotions went from guarded excitement to suspicion to anger. Elro opened his eyes, worried, and immediately started for the cockpit.

He passed Vael Kaeris, Endeavour’s CSO, well former CSO, on the way who looked like he had been on his way to the back, maybe to find Elro. “Something’s wrong,” is all Elro said as he passed the science officer and made his way the rest of the way to the bridge, not looking to see if Vael was following him or not.

He entered the cockpit, finding Ducote and Kai sitting in the two front chairs of the runabout and saw that they were being pulled into a hangar bay of some kind. It looked Federation, he breathed out in relief, but it was Ducote’s next words about the Theurgy that made his relief short lived as his memory from recent news reports snapped that name into place in his mind. From the Borg to Federation traitors? Elro immediately worried for everyone’s safety, especially as Ducote began charging the impulse engines, the doctor’s eyes going wide.

“Commander?” was all he said, in a cautioning tone. He wasn’t used to being on the bridge or command area of a ship, and he probably shouldn’t have said anything given their situation, but was this the best action? Elro subconsciously held his breath as he waited for the Theurgy’s response to what he hoped was their bluff.

[ Lt Cmdr Vael Kaeris | Aft -> Pilot Cabin | USS Niger ] Attn: @trevorvw  @TrexelCat  @Top Hat @Mathis 

Vael nodded his head at the commander's instructions, although he was admittedly of mixed feeling as to whether this was fortuitous or not.  True, he would be glad to have some time to himself after being couped up on the run-about for so long, but stumbling over another Starfleet vessel in the heart of the Azure Nebula of all places?  He was dubious.

As he passed through the door to the aft section once more, he idly swept his long hair backward his gaze falling on their beleaguered chief medical officer. He started to approaching the doctor, only having the opportunity to open his mouth, the instructions to start preparing the crew to disembark not even reaching the tip of his tongue, before the betazoid passed him his expression intent on the pilot cabin.  Quickly, he looked over those gathered in the back, making a hasty mental assessment of their functionality before he turned and looked after the doctor's departure.

The sensation of the tractor beam was unmistakable, the run-about being towed into what was sold to be safe harbor, but he could also hear the engines, noting that they had not disengaged.  He could see the tense line of Commander Ducote's back hunched over the console.  Whatever was unfolding, the fewer agitations around him, the better.

Straightening himself, Vael reached out and placed a reassuring hand on Lt. Kobol 's shoulder, his mind attempting to convey a single message that he hoped the betazoid would pick up on... your patients need you, have faith in the commander.  The crew had been assaulted by the Borg, lost their ship, their comrades, and been stuck in an overqualified life boat for days.  Nerves were frayed and anxiety high, and now was when they needed a friendly smile and assurance that things would work out, and without the counseling ministrations of Lt. R'Rori, that fell to Kobol  and himself.

[ LT Daniel Havenborn | Deck 16, Fighter Assault Bay | USS Theurgy, Vector 2 ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan, @Nolan, @Doc M., @Triage, @Even Angels Cry, @Multificionado, Other Lone Wolves

Daniel ran over to his fighter which was still in the process of being upgraded, he had been informed that the upgrade was going to start at 1900 hours yesterday.  They looked to be doing systems integration and load bearing tests.  From the outside his fighter looked the same so he could only assume that the process was going well.  He looked around for his gear which he had left in the fighter, specifically he was looking for his rifle as he reached into his tactical pack and retrieved his maglock foregrip.  He spotted his rifle and retrieved it, attaching the foregrip to his rifle and making sure that it was locked before he ran over and caught the orders from Commander Ravon.

“I want two fire teams, both on the flanks. Your weapons on high in case we need to fire at the Runabout. I want two others with me with rifles set to stun. Remember, these people might be friendly but they just got through a nasty encounter with the Borg. Along with us being branded as traitors, they might come out guns blazing. Be prepared for anything yet do NOT provoke them. Clear?”

“Understood sir.”  Daniel said in response as his RIO, Knight, fell in beside him with his own rifle.  “Knight, Meony, Husker, Sniper and Bear.  Follow me, we’ll take the right flank.”  Daniel said, he didn’t actually know the last three pilots that well, but his HUD identified them.  Husker was part of his Flight so it made sense to bring him with, the other two he had chosen at random as they were the closest to the right flank and he wanted to get into position as fast as possible.  “Meony, Husker you’ll provide overwatch.”  He said quickly.

[ Ens. Krystal "Meony" Tancredi (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Krystal_Tancredi,_callsign_%22Meony%22) | Hangar Deck | Fighter Assault Bay | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Nolan, @trevorvw, @Top Hat, @Mathis, @steelphoenix, @Auctor Lucan, @Doc M., @Even Angels Cry, @Multificionado & @TrexelCat
[Show/Hide]Meony had been meeting and talking with some of the other pilots, few though they were now (a sobering similarity to when they were on the Resolve) when Thomas Ravon called out orders. She glanced over at him thoughtfully, then wordlessly retrieved her weapons, replacing her hat with her helmet. She checked her systems and the HUD showed everything green to go...for now. She trailed after the others, following Daniel just a few paces behind, wondering all the while what was going on. Thomas gave her the cliff notes, and it was enough to make her...blink. Borg? Dang, that must've been a bitch.

“Ya got it,” said Meony, when told not to provoke, but she had a fucking rifle in her hands. That struck her as plenty provocative. Maybe if she slung it over her shoulder and posed like a retard, she'd be less provocative? In her full suit of shining armour, and her blades and pistols sticking out everwhere...Yeah not a threat, babe. Just move along.

Daniel was next to issue the rest of the commands for her and the others. Well, his idea was as good as anyone else's, so with a “Yes suh!” the redhead took to the right side of the Runabout, her rifle held at an easy to reach position for any surprises, while she fixed her gaze on the ship, “Ah get th' feelin' they maht already be provoked.” said Meony, “Borg don't normally hit this far in, raht? We got big problems if that's th' case.”

They'd need to work together, not stand here posturing with guns.

[ Tessa May Lance, callsign:  Goldeneye (http://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Tessa_May_Lance,_callsign_%22Goldeneye%22) | Fighter Assault Bay | Vector 02 | Deck 16 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @Nolan, @trevorvw, @Top Hat, @Mathis, @steelphoenix, @Auctor Lucan, @Triage, @Even Angels Cry, @Multificionado & @TrexelCat

When Tessa returned to the Fighter Assault Bay, she had to admit that she had really totaled her impulse engine.  Just about every component was burnt out and overloaded.  The only thing to do with it was remove it from the injured fighter and reduce it to its base components that so that the his shipfitters (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shipfitter) could use them to construct a new Twin-Tandem ITD-900 Series Class V Gravitic Impulse Drive from the ground up.  Deck Chief Sten “Poppa Bear” Covington had always encouraged the pilots to assist in the repairs of their own birds; that kind of cross training would save a pilot’s bacon if they found themselves stranded and needing to repair their fighter in the field the way Ravon did.  It also granted the pilots a greater understanding of just what their fighters could do and what their limitations were.  She had just assisted a team of fighter mechanics removing her Valkyrie’s impulse drive and was awed at how ruined it was.  She was processing her lucky escape when she heard the voice of Lieutenant Commander Thomas Ravon, callsign 'Razor' calling from her combadge.

"All wolves, rally up. Grab your weapons from your fighters and meet me at the hangar deck. Double time. Ravon out."

“What?  Ooh!  Gotta get my weapon!” she squeaked as she trotted over to her cockpit.  “Just a second!  Sorry about that Hussien!  I’ll get out of your way in a jiffy!  Won’t be a moment!” she assured the deck hands as she procured a Type II pulse phase pistol from a compartment to the right of the pilot’s seat.  “Okay!  It’s all good now, I’m outta your hair!” she chirped as tottered away before pausing to check the gun’s settings.  Once satisfied that she had it on the 'stun' setting, she trotted unsteadily over to where Razor was conferring with Poppa Bear. 

"Move it up people! Time's pretty short here," Razor’s voice called.  It didn’t come from her combadge this time.  Thomas was using the acoustics of fighter bay to show what a powerful set of lungs he really had.

“We’re gonna have company!” Poppa Bear Covington boomed at an impressive volume of his own.  “I want all of the unarmed enlisted people to clear the deck!  That includes you too, Thomason!”

The hangar bay doors smoothly slid and a Danube class runabout emerged from the azure mist.  Tessa tried very hard not to think about the firepower a runabout had and the amount of damage it could do if decided to fire into the fighter bay.

"I want two fire teams, both on the flanks,” Thomas instructed.  “Your weapons on high in case we need to fire at the Runabout. I want two others with me with rifles set to stun. Remember, these people might be friendly but they just got through a nasty encounter with the Borg. Along with us being branded as traitors, they might come out guns blazing. Be prepared for anything yet do NOT provoke them. Clear?"

"Understood sir,” Lieutenant Daniel Havenborn, callsign ‘Salvo’, formerly of the USS Resolve acknowledged.  "Knight, Meony, Husker, Sniper and Bear.  Follow me; we'll take the right flank.  Meony, Husker you'll provide overwatch."

For some reason, Tessa thought that she should cover the left flank.  “Um,  okay, Catscratch, Vagabond, Shocker, and Aria… uh… I guess we’ll take the right flank…  Left flank!  Left flank!  We’ll take the left flank!  And um… Aria and Catscratch… I guess you’ll watch over?”

Lieutenant Talidenai zh'Idenna, callsign ‘Terror’, formerly of the USS Orcus thankfully chose that moment to intervene.   “Goldeneye, I’ve got this; why don’t I take the left flank?  You back up Razor.”

“Um… sure!”  Tessa smiled sheepishly.  “Got it.”

---

[ Maya (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Dr._Maya) | Brig | Security Center | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @chXinya, @Nolan,  @Arista, @Auctor Lucan, @CanadianVet

Meanwhile in the brig, Maya was watching the dialog between Lucan Nicander and Ameyla Rez.   Her large hazel eyes were wide and unblinking.  She leaned forward and held her hands in front of her with her fingertips touching like she was a praying mantis.  Her entire manner was that of catlike anticipation.

[Lt. Kai Akoni | Pilot Cabin | USS Niger] Attn: @Doc M. @Nolan @Top Hat @Mathis @steelphoenix @Auctor Lucan @Triage @Even Angels Cry @Multificionado @TrexelCat and anyone else that may have been missed

Kai had been piloting the Niger along as the small Danube class ship followed the Federation warp trail that they had detected. The crew had hoped that the Federation ship out there would detect the signal from their barely functional emergency beacon.

Kai had felt a small pang of hope when the Vanguard replied to their distress call. The Vanguard? Best Kai could remember was the Vanguard wasn't in this sector, but it's been awhile since he had seen the reports of where all of the Federation ships would be.

As Ducote and the Vanguard talked over the comm line, Kai had the hair on the back of his neck stand up. It seemed to him that the Vanguard was being intentionally vague in their answers. The Niger had been told to standby for docking coordinates, when Ducote had said something that confirmed that Kai and the Commander were clearly on the same page.

"Kai, are you armed?"

Kai returned that inquiry with a small smirk while patting the slightly curved type 2 phaser sitting on his left hip.

As the Niger came closer to the Vanguard, the ship rocked slightly when they were hit with a tractor beam.

That's not standard procedure Kai immediately thought to himself, what the hell is going on?

Every person in the pilot cabin of the Niger froze when they were brought close enough to actually see the registry name and number on the hull of the ship.

The Theurgy? Are you fucking kidding me? Those bags of shit! Kai was thinking whilst Ducote was actually verbalizing things along the same lines. The perks of being the XO Kai surmised.

The tractor beam brought the Niger inside the Theurgy and put them down on the landing deck, but they hadn't released the tractor beam yet. All of a sudden, they saw the traitors running around on the flight deck to surround the Niger. Kai immediately knew what Ductoe was going to say as soon as the Commander opened his mouth.

"Seal the airlock. If they try and breach it... repel."

Kai nodded in acknowledgement as he immediately leapt from his seat, sealed the airlock and made his way to the weapons locker. He quickly distributed the Type 2 phasers to all of the conscious crewmembers on the Niger.

Kai returned to the weapons locker and grabbed two phaser rifles for himself. He checked the power cells on both and they were fully charged and ready to go. Kai made his way quickly back to the airlock, one phaser rifle in each hand.

He aimed the phaser rifles at the airlock in anticipation, sighed and then spoke,

"Bring it on you fuckers..."

He knew he wouldn't have to wait long before whatever was going to happen next.

[ Lt. Tyreke Okafor (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Tyreke_Okafor) | Battle Bridge | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ]
[Show/Hide][Looks as if you have enough guns out there to burn through these shields eventually. But I can guarantee that time is longer than it will take me to press 'Execute'.]

Okafor swore and pushed away from where he stood at Nator's side. He should have known he'd make a mistake. He was scientist, not a tactician. He was tempted to answer right away, but he remembered a Beninese proverb that his father had taught him. 'Words are like spears: Once they leave your lips they can never come back.' He wet his lips, yet delayed in answer, thinking. Nator, however, reminded him that time was short.

"Lieutenant, the fuel pressure in the Niger's impulse manifold is increasing," she said, and it appeared that testing Commander Ducote's word seemed redundant. Tyreke had to assume the man meant what he said. Thinking about all the people down there in the bay, he knew he had to do something. He turned to Henshaw first.

"Warn the pilots down there," he said. Should he order them to back away? The tractor beam still held the Niger put. No, he had to try to talk to the man first. After all they merely wanted information on the Borg. Then, they could just release the Runabout. He would not make the situation worse than it had to be. "...and Fighter Bay Ops too. Hail the Niger again."

"My apologies for the ruse, this is Lieutenant Tyreke Okafor. Please, there is no need for aggression. We have no interest in posing a threat to you and your crew. The reason we wished you to linger is because we are interested in intel on this new Borg threat to the Federation."

Tyreke had no idea what to bargain with to get the information. All he had was the truth. "Please, accommodate us with information on the Endeavour's fate, and the residual warp signature that you are tracking. Despite what you have been told, we are not traitors to Starfleet. We pose no threat to the Federation. It is Starfleet Command that are corrupted, usurped by an enemy that impersonate our leaders, just like the Dominion did during the war... Only these alien entities are harder to detect."

Could he really release the Niger now? He'd given orders, thrown his spears, and in doing so, he had compromised the Theurgy. Directly, in how what kind of damage Ducote might cause them, and indirectly, in how the Niger could alert Task Force Archeron about their last known location. After all, it was a known fact that Admiral Sankolov would eventually have tracked the Theurgy into the Azure Nebula.

Little did Okafor know that there was new development in the Fighter Assault Bay.

"Has someone reached Wenn Cinn yet?"

---

[ CPO Liam Herrold (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Liam_Herrold) | Fighter Assault Bay | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Blue Zephyr
[Show/Hide]After Chief Covington gave the order to clear the deck, they soon heard from Mission Ops about the development in the bay. Evidently, the officer in command on the Niger was none too impressed with being duped, and was about to ignite full impulse whilst locked in the tractor beam, which could be catastrophic to the pressurised compartment of the whole fighter bay.

Hearing this, Covington was not too impressed either. "What did the brass think he'd do?" he said to Liam and Ji where they had withdrawn, behind the transparent blast shield walls that ran on both sides of the bay. "That he'd surrender with his hands in the air? For all they know, we eat Starfleet officers for supper and wash them down with with their blood."

Liam looked between Ji and Covington, surprised that they had not already moved to deal with this development. He realised, right then, that the two hadn't served on the Resolve, where they had dealt with this kind of scenario before. He ran a hand through his hair, looking between the Niger out there and Covington. "I'll deal with it."

Covington raised his eyebrows at him. "What do you mean?"

"Give me twenty seconds," he said, then looked at Ji. This was neither exciting nor dangerous to him. "When I say when, you can just run up to the Niger and pull out the power couplings behind the maintenance panel marked MA4 in the aft, just to be on the safe side."

Having said as much, Liam unhurriedly waked down the side of the fighter bay, glanced at the fighter pilots all up in arms and being told what the Niger might do any moment. The situation was far more tense than it had any right to be, Liam thought, glad to be able to prevent any rash mistakes. He adjusted the sleeves of his jumpsuit and stopped by the tractor beam controls. Once there, he calibrated the polarities of the beam that held the Niger in its place, accommodating for the added energy. Next, he calibrated the output, maximised it, but before he executed, he turned his head and looked at the Runabout. A single tap on the touch screen...

...and he sent an electromagnetic pulse through the tractor beam.

The result was easily discerned. Not only did the shields fry out when the emitters were killed, the whirr of its engines were killed too, and the external navigation lights on the Runabout flickered out. He'd fried the Niger's circuits, shutting down all systems. Satisfied that the Niger was bricked, he turned to shout to Ji. "Your turn, Ji!"

Knowing that the fighter pilots out there likely hadn't done this before either, he stepped out from behind the blast shield and called to them. "Could you just please make sure Chief Ji has some cover while she pulls out its power couplings? Thank you, Gre- Lone Wolves." His work finished, he walked back towards Covington, giving him a shrug. "When the brass fails, I suppose we have to clean up their mess, right?"
 
Chief Covington actually did smile at that all too true observation, shaking his head.

---

OOC: I noticed how Dax did this in the DS9 episode "The Passenger". Thought it was a handy solution. http://memory-alpha.wikia.com/wiki/Electromagnetic_pulse. @Nolan , @Top Hat and the rest of the wolves ought to have plenty to react to, and @chXinya could have Cinn leave the brig, I guess? :)

[ Ens. Krystal "Meony" Tancredi (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Krystal_Tancredi,_callsign_%22Meony%22) | Hangar Deck | Fighter Assault Bay | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Nolan, @trevorvw, @Top Hat, @Mathis, @steelphoenix, @Auctor Lucan, @Doc M., @Even Angels Cry, @Multificionado & @TrexelCat
[Show/Hide]And just like that, Liam turned the situation from Fucked Up Beyond All Reason back to Situation Normal, All Fucked Up, and then to Oh Hey, We Just Might Live Through This Fucking Day Don't Jinx It. She considered calling Sharky down now, and say "Bad alien" to whoever stepped out of the Niger, or better yet, beam Sharky in and let him feast on butt sandwiches. Their shields were down now, and it'd be so much fun for the dog, and her. Jimmy would probably get a laugh, and then chew her out for sending Sharky in half-cocked, and then kiss her, then chew her out some more. But hey, far as the redhead was concerned, it'd be worth it.

She'd been around shuttles and flown one around long enough to know that the Niger was doing something that would have cooked the lot of them if Liam hadn't shut down the Runabout. She used her comlink to send a message to Liam, “Babe, Ah owe ya a drink,” she said, grinning madly with appreciation at the man, “hell, we all owe ya a drink. Yer're a hero. Don't let none tell ya different, y'hear? Muah.”

She then levelled her rifle on the airlock of the tiny starship, letting Eun Sae Ji know, “Ah got ya covered, hon, do what ya gotta do!”

Now Meony so very much wanted to behave to keep the peace between the people of the Resolve with the crew of the Theurgy, but what the people on the Niger just pulled had her feeling a little...okay, very annoyed. So she opened a direct hail to the crew of the shuttle, “Yo FUCKNUTS! Didja just try t' fry us? Real asshole move! But Ah guess yo mama nevah tot'cha no manners, raht?” She looked at Daniel Havenborn, and stuck her tongue out to one side, then looked back at the airlock. “Ah dare ya t' come out 'ere an' act lahk Starfleet officers, if ya still got an ounce o' decency left'n ya!”

She ended her communique with the Niger then looked down at her rifle's settings, her eyes widening, “Shit! Ah left it on 'blast 'em t' smitherins'! Mah bad! Okay, there. Now they'll live t' regret it.”

The weapon was now set to stun the fuck out of whales instead of wiping them out of existence.

[ Cmdr Ranaan Ducote | Pilot Cabin | USS Niger ] Attn: oh, all o' y'alls.

"Commander?" It was Kobol . Ducote muted his end of the channel while he waited for the next step. As he looked around to the full-blooded Betazoid, his face was somehow even more drawn than it had been for the last few days - a strain he would have plainly seen mirrored in everyone else aboard, with or without his empathy. The XO wasted little time with pleasantries, however.

"Doc. We were 'rescued' by the Theurgy. I'm trying to get us unrescued. I'd honestly rather deal with the Borg."

[My apologies for the ruse...]

Yeah, okay. Sure. Now you start being honest. After you eroded all trust. Though, he did have to admit that if this two-pip idiot had been up front in the first place the first thing this ship would have seen was the Niger's ass-end disappearing into supralight. Not for the first time, though, he cursed his blunted empathy. The pilots hadn't moved, not that he could read them from here. They seemed content to call his bluff.

Well, if it was a bluff. Ranaan honestly hadn't decided yet. It wasn't as if there was a dearth of people out there who'd cheer him reducing a few dozen Theurgy crew to plasma and ash, in meagre repayment of the lives they'd claimed in turn. It was hardly very 'Starfleet', but...

Then something changed in the ambient noise. Some subtle creak as the tractor beam changed its hold on them. He had only time to furrow his brows a little further before a klaxon blared and squelched in swift order, the consoles flickered, and something went bang somewhere above him. The actinic smell of a shorted shield generator began to permeate the compartment.

"Enraba-me," he muttered, punching the glowing red EXECUTE button on the engine controls.

Nothing happened; the pulse overloaded the safeties and the runabout went dark around them. For a fleeting, infinitesimal moment, he considered manually depowering the antimatter containment pods, safe with their independent systems as they were. A standard torpedo carried two kilograms of annihilation fuel, enough for an eighty-megaton flash. The fuel stores on something even as small as a runabout carried many times that.

But that was certain death. They'd take this ship with them, sure. But 'almost no chance of survival' was still infinitely better odds than 'none'. Besides, there was no guarantee that he'd get the chance before they were beamed into the brig.

Or space.

And then I'd never see her again. He blinked away the mirage of Blue's face in the reflection of the darkened panels before him, focusing again on the voice issuing from his badge.

[... we are not traitors to Starflee-]

Ducote slapped at it with one hand to close the channel, not caring to hear whatever the next lie from the good lieutenant's mouth turned out to be. The other crunched into the transparent-aluminium panel that had so recently betrayed him, hard enough to spiderweb its surface and make his knuckles sing with the impact.

He drove himself from his seat, snagging his belt rig from the headrest of his chair as he rounded on the crew section, walking back aft to where the rest of the officers were.

"Kaeris!" he snapped, buckling the clasp on the holster closed. "Get the shields back online any way you can. Kai - showtime. Doc - talking failed and it's probably gonna get noisy. I'm sorry."

His badge chirped with a general hail. [Yo FUCKNU-] The commander sighed as he switched off his combadge entirely, simply powering up his type-II instead. It defaulted to heavy stun, but he dialled it up a little to low-disrupt; several of the people outside had been armoured.

"These bastards have carved a bloody swathe across half the quadrant. They've killed thousands as it is; I'm sure a handful more won't trouble them terribly. The Endeavour was never a combat vessel, nor was she destined to be near any particular warzones.

"You have performed far in excess of what anyone could possibly have expected of you, and I have to say I think I took the privilege of serving with you for granted. And now I can only pray that this isn't the end of the line. You deserve better."

Turning away and leaning into the jamb of a doorway to steady himself, he took aim at the airlock.

---

[ Lt JG Nator 159 | Battle Bridge | The Sword ]

"The Niger is powered down, sir. Won't be able to cycle their systems either."

Now that the shields were down, the Hermat took the time to make a more thorough scan of the runabout's interior. Ten or so life signs, most of whom were at various stages of 'suboptimal', fairly thoroughly-vandalised sensor systems (which went a long way to explaining how they'd gotten away with dragging their shuttle into the bay in the first place), damaged long-range communication gear, and a structural integrity that was holding together more through luck than judgement.

It seemed they were desperate, if they wanted to try and rip themselves free of a locked-on tractor beam and then also try and outrun something that could overhaul them without even stressing their engines. In that moment, Nator finally understood the power of propaganda and what sort of reputation the Theurgy crew likely had in the wider Federation by now.

S/he wondered how they were ever supposed to reverse that.

"Lieutenant," Nator called the man's attention again, "I'm reading several injured people aboard that shuttle. I doubt the thing is in much shape to tackle the nebula again, either."

[ Lt Cmdr. Thomas 'Razor' Ravon | Hangar Deck | Fighter Assault Bay | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: All Tac CONN+ USS Niger

The situation on the flight deck unfolded quickly as the ship remained in position yet nothing else really happened. Thus far, Thomas didn't know about the dooming order that the XO aboard the Niger would execute until Henshaw's voice chirped out of his combadge. He gritted his teeth as Lance fell in on his side and he gave her a cold look for a second as he evaluated his options. Risking his entire pack to be blasted away sounded like a rather awry plan right now. He would opt to pull the flanks away and get them to safety behind the blast shields, yet that's when he saw Liam Herrold dash along. It took a minute before the SCO figured what he was doing, the evident lightshow confirming his suspicion as the shuttle seemed to lose shields and what else.

As Ji would need cover, the game plan changed for Thomas, he looked over to Havenborn and shouted "Cover Ji!" Yet before he could finalize the rest of his command, Meony tapped open a comm link to the Runabout. Razor could hear loud and clear what she was shouting to them and he could feel the urge to blast the pilot down himself. He looked up at the Niger before he cursed a series of profanities before addressing Tancredi "MEONY! What the actual FUCK!?" The displeasure of the SCO evidently in his tone as he shot the ensign a look which pretty much could've killed her on the spot "I do not have the time, nor the need for further agitation to these people! Hit the lockers and remain there until I say otherwise!" he ordered her with a breezing voice. It was clear that the senior officer was beyond pissed off yet refrained from erupting into a full on shouting and cursing match.

His eyes snapped back forward to the shuttle before he added as a warning to the others "If anyone else is feeling trigger happy, know is your time to step out." The problem was that they were blind on what was going on on the inside of the shuttle. Thomas could only presume they had their needs on a ship that small  and whilst they were on the run for the Borg. He tried hailing the shuttle now himself which only ended up with a non connecting signal and he cursed under his breath. His eyes went back to the fighters for a second as he wondered if supplies would be received as a sign of good will. Alternatively, if he had to think more as Security... Beaming concussive charges in would help them a whole lot as well.

"Ravon to Bridge, Any chance we can beam medical supplies and food rations on that shuttle? Maybe they'll not try to kill us if they receive it?" he suggested as he remained vigilant for a full on shoot out should it turn for the worst.

[ Lt Cmdr Vael Kaeris | Aft -> Pilot Cabin | USS Niger ] Attn: @trevorvw  @TrexelCat  @Top Hat @Mathis @Auctor Lucan  @Nolan  @Doc M.  @Triage  @Even Angels Cry  @Multificionado and anyone else I missed

And like that, the ship was dead.  An electromagnetic pulse.  He'd praise the tactic if it hadn't been so ham-fisted.  Vael placed the tricorder in his hand down on the nearby console with a decided *click*, his expression steadfastly unreadable, but those who knew him could recognize when the "prince" had lost his patience.  As the commander passed him instructing him to power up the ship again, he squared his shoulders and very quietly replied, "Commander, if I may?"

Tapping his combadge, he addressed the ship beyond, "Attention Command Theurgy.  This is Lt. Commander Vael Kaeris, CSO Endeavour.  You'll have to forgive this breach in protocol, but allow me to make a few things clear.  You fabricated your identity and functionally lured us here into your captivity under false pretense.  You then strike our vessel with an EMP and potentially fry our systems and risk the loss of all tactical and tracking data regarding the borg that we have acquired."

His tone was calm and steadfast as he walked towards the pilot cabin to stare at the armed contingent awaiting them beyond.  "But you don't honestly believe we would track the borg through the nebula in a runabout without precautions?  I have left a breadcrumb trail of miniature probes in our wake, all waiting for a timed transmission from our vessel on a regular rotation.  Don't bother looking for them, they're well hidden.  I've been in contact with more Maquis than you'll ever know and I've learned their tactics.  Absent our transmission, those probes will light up a path of burning metreon sufficient to notify half the quadrant.  That signal is due in 30 minutes."  He wished it were true, it was a good plan in retrospect... had they had the resources to devote to it.  "We've no desire to destroy you, nor ourselves, but we will not be taken prisoner."  Years of study had given him a remarkable ability to maintain an even tone, almost dispassionate at times, but he needed to sound matter-of-fact.

"Now, may I recommend you place your captain on the channel so that we can come to a somewhat less destructive conclusion?"  Tapping his badge once more to speak privately, he turned to Ducote and gave a respectful bow of his head.  "I have no desire to see you rush headlong into death.  I ask that you forgive my impertinence."

Taking a deep breath, he retrieved his tricorder and began working on cycling the runabout's systems so, at the very least, they could leave this vessel and its renegade crew.

[ Lt. Tyreke Okafor (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Tyreke_Okafor) | Battle Bridge | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ]
[Show/Hide]"The Niger is powered down, sir. Won't be able to cycle their systems either," said Nator, right in the wake of Okafor's message to the Niger crew. It made Tyreke blink, not sure what could have happened, until someone else on the bridge told him. Evidently, Fighter Bay Ops had disarmed the situation, using the tractor beam to send a electromagnetic pulse into the runabout. Eyes widening momentarily, the development of the situation had become more safe to the Sword, but his words to them, reassuring their safety and the olive branch extended, all lost. He found himself both relieved and exasperated at the same time. Now how am I supposed to get them to talk?

While Nator told them they had injured too, there was more comm traffic. The SCO got in contact, suggesting medical supplies to be beamed in, but judging by the CSO named Kaeris, sounding not the least impressed with them frying the Niger, they would stick to their guns. Okafor had to give the breadcrumb threat some thought, but it was plain that it was a bluff for several reasons, the primary one being that a Runabout wasn't stocked with that kind of resources to leave such a trail. He almost bought it, but he also knew they had to be desperate, and caught on to the bluff before he decided on what course of action he had to take.

"We must assert control over the situation before it escalates any further. More importantly, we need a controlled environment in which we can learn what they know, and tell them what we're about," he said to the bridge crew. He sighed, for he had hoped it wouldn't have to come to that. "There's no choice now either, since the Niger won't be flying again without repairs. Nator, I need you to alert any spare security guards we have on hand to get to sickbay, and I need those that are injured aboard the Niger beamed there. The others will have to be beamed into a holding cell, but all their weaponry and all their combadges must be filtered into the transporter buffers - injured or not. Alert the Brig Officer about his new charges too. Energise."

He turned to Cameron Henshaw. "Could you inform Tac CONN and have the fighter pilots secure it? Check it for PADDs aboard, see if they have intel on this Borg attack on the Endeavour. Logs, anything." He hadn't bothered answering the agitated people on the Niger. It wouldn't help at that point. The chance for immediate diplomacy lost. Instead, he sat down in the command chair on the bridge, rubbing his eyes. "When someone gets a hold of Wenn Cinn, brief him about what has happened, and tell him to contact me. The sooner someone talks to these survivors - once they have settled down a bit - the better."

Evidently, his spears had missed their mark entirely, and he feared them lost forever. I'll never volunteer for bridge duty again...

---

OOC: I had hoped for a solution where the Niger crew didn't have to spend the next part of the story in the brig, but it's what's most plausible at this point. I'll figure something out, having to rewrite some ideas for what will happen next. In the meantime Security have people from the Niger both in sickbay and in custody. We have established earlier in the story that beaming in and out people form the brig cells themselves would make it too easy to spring people out of their cells, so the holding cell that the uninjured Niger crew ends up is in Temporary Custody, located outside the area with transporter inhibitors where the interrogation with Nicander takes place (see "temporary custody" in the top left corner of the map): [Show/Hide]

[CPO Eun Sae Ji | Fighter Assault Bay | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy]
@Auctor Lucan

There was nothing quite like hiding cowardly, but smartly, behind the blast glass of the Fighter Assault Bay.  Ji had been trying to shake flash backs all morning.  Sometimes out of the corner of her eyes there would be a movement she didn't quite register that caught her attention and made her worry about the invaders they had fought.  How many days has it been?  I can't even.. fully remember she thought to herself as she sighed brushing a hand through her hair and letting it fall back into place.  She was stable with Liam.  At least, it felt that way, as stable as their life could be with half their crew missing, a random rogue ship on their deck with some asshole inside that was not willing to talk nice.

Covington was pissed, and not shocked at all, that the bastard in the ship wasn't going to come out.  At least, not easily.  Neither was she.  Honestly, she knew the Theurgy had a shit reputation and it wasn't exactly like they could go in and be like 'hey guys but for reals we're supes nice, I swear'.  She hoped that over time he would understand that they weren't going to chew up the people and spit them out later. 

“If he fires those engines in our bay, it's death for us all.  Disintegration for the lucky bastards and the rest will die of burn and fall out.  None of which will be even remotely worth while for the crew of this ship.  We've been through enough, we need to power him down for the safety of our crew.  If he stays in there and rots until his replicator is dry then that's on him.” she gave a shrug, knowing exactly what would happen if the engines were fired in this tight of a bay. 

Put everyone's life at risk?  What kind of Commander is this guy.

Liam had a plan, one she was eager to hear about.  She turned to ask him what it was and then he told her to give him twenty seconds.  He told her when he said it was time she needed to dart in there and pull out the power couplings.  Her brow rose but she gave a quick nod.  If anyone had any information about how they could take the ship down and out of danger to the crew she was all for it, honestly. 

“Course, lead the way.” she said as she turned getting ready for business.  She saw Liam over at the tractor beam controls and she waited, her eyes watching him work his magic so that she could do what she needed to.  Her eyes studied his form.  It was so nice, to have someone that had her back, so far they were very good at remaining professional while on the job.  She kept her work life and her personal life fairly separate thus far.  It was good too, because it made things easier when they were on the job versus trying to find a way to be together all around. 

Finally, she got her call.  Giving a quick nod she darted out of protection and headed over to the ship.  MA4, panels.  She opened the panel using her tools quickly to release the hatch and get underneath the panels to where the power supplies were.  They system for releasing was very much the same as it was for most such shuttles and she quickly did the twist and release the power units.  As she pulled out the couplings she noticed that she was being protected.  Her eyes shifted to the right and left, and found herself with a guard.  A smirk crossed her face as she had an inkling of who had put them on her tail but she didn't mind.

She got the couplings out with little issue and brought them back behind the blast glass to put them on a tray that could be rolled around.  The ship would need them again at some point but not at the moment.  They had shut the ship down and luckily, it was good now.  Hopefully they could get them out and figure out what was going on with the crew of the Niger.  They were Starfleet, they just needed to give the Theurgy a chance.

“She's powered down and safe now, boss.” she said to Sten.

[ Tessa May Lance, callsign:  Goldeneye (http://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Tessa_May_Lance,_callsign_%22Goldeneye%22) | Fighter Assault Bay | Vector 02 | Deck 16 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @Nolan, @trevorvw, @Top Hat, @Mathis, @steelphoenix, @Auctor Lucan, @Triage, @Even Angels Cry, @Multificionado & @TrexelCat

“Thanks Chief,” Chief Warrant Officer Sten Michael Covington nodded.  “Now how do we convince ‘em it’s safe to come out?”

“Maybe if someone went in there,” Lieutenant (junior grade) Tessa May Lance suggested naively.  “Someone nonthreatening who can have a face to face talk with them and let them see that we’re still brave and loyal to Starfleet and the Federation and not a bunch of pirates.  Someone who can have a heart to heart with them and let them know that we’re okay.  We got that message out at Starbase 84 didn’t we?” she asked, blissfully unaware that Edena Rez had sent out the opposite message.  ”That should create some doubt and leave them open to the possibility that we’re sincere and not just a bunch of crazies.  I mean, they’re still Starfleet, so they shouldn’t get rough on whoever volunteers to make peaceful contact with them should they?  We need to just calm down and remember, they’re still educated and enlightened citizens of the United Federation of Planets, and Starfleet only accepts the best and brightest.  Everyone is psychologically evaluated to see if they are fit to serve.  Unless they’ve been trapped in the Delta Quadrant for seven years or they just got their starship assimilated by the Borg we can assume that they are professional, well balanced, highly trained officers who will hear us out,” she concluded while being equally blissfully unaware that the USS Endeavour had in fact been destroyed by the Borg.

---

OOC:  I don't think that we need to have the Endeavour characters start in the brig if we ignore Star Trek:  Discovery and have our characters show restraint like they do on classic Star Trek shows.

[PO2 Kino Taer | Temporary Holding Cell | Deck 7 | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy] @Top Hat @steelphoenix @trevorvw @TrexelCat

Kino took a deep breath and sighed as she surveyed the uninjured crew from the Niger in the temporary holding cell. She stood at parade rest, her hands tucked behind her back. It felt good for her to be in her gold uniform now, especially with the comforting weight of the type II phaser clipped at her hip. It also felt good that she wasn't going to be spending the day as bored as she anticipated. For whatever reason, the Security Aide running the Security Centre while Cinn was playing Captain decided Taer was best suited for assisting with administrative work today, given the recent medical treatment.

Kino Taer was not cut out for administrative work.

When the call came to the Centre about the officers from the Niger, she treasured the look on the aide's face when he realized she was the only experienced specialist on shift that wasn't already busy with something else. Intellectually, she understood his reluctance. Security personnel fresh from Sickbay needed a chance to ensure they were recovered fully from whatever put them there in the first place before going into risky situations. Taer was no ordinary Security officer, though, and she knew the aide was aware of that. As he connected her to a bridge officer for her briefing prior to her entrance to the room, it looked like he was simultaneously playing a part in ensuring Cinn was getting his own briefing of the situation.

Ah right, Nicander. I wonder how that's going. Eliska's in there with them, suit and all.

She got into the room as the crew were being beamed in. As soon as everyone had a chance to reorient themselves to their new surroundings, she spoke out in a carefully neutral and diplomatic tone. The Trill might have been an explosives expert, but she was hardly a stranger to how to interact with prisoners. If what she was told was correct, these particular officers held intelligence on a particularly grave threat to the Federation.

"Greetings. I am Petty Officer Kino Taer of the USS Theurgy. You have been transferred to a temporary holding cell pending a decision from the Chief of Security. Your weapons and combadges have been filtered out through the transporter system for your safety and ours. The injured crew that was on the Niger with you have been beamed to Sickbay for treatment and I promise you that they will be well cared for there." She stepped closer to the force field, locking eyes with the only officer with three pips on his collar. "Commander Ducote, I presume? If I may have your full name and those with you as well for the record, I'd appreciate it. This is so we can confirm your identities. If you have any requirements or concerns that need to be cleared up right now also, please let me know."

Eliska would be so proud of me right now. I haven't even glared at them for their attempt at blowing up our hangar bay.

[ Cmdr Ranaan Ducote | Temporary Holding Cell | Deck 7 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @TrexelCat @trevorvw @steelphoenix @Mathis Taer's response provided kindly by @patches

The XO let his arms drop out of their firing stance as soon as the confinement beam released him. He didn't bother checking his pants pocket for the type-I, either; he knew it would have been taken in the same sweep that took his pistol and, looking down, his badge. Inevitable, once the shields came down, he supposed.

He straightened his tunic as the others solidified around him, looking around their tiny compartment. Not a full brig cell; presumably they already had a transport inhibition field active. Idly, he wondered how many people this crew were holding prisoner. Casting out with his empathy, he didn't find much beyond there being several people within a dozen metres or so. Hardly specific and it didn't really tell him much beyond what one might expect from being deposited in the bowels of a ship after having been at one end of it until now.

One mental impression was already close by, and right behind him, too. He turned to see a buzz-cut Trill with a cybernetic eye appraising them. Brave enough, after our stunt in the landing bay, he decided. Or careless.

He couldn't help the amusement that bubbled up as she addressed him directly. 'Confirm their identities' indeed. With whom? It wasn't as if they could tell Starfleet Command that they'd kidnapped their officers - the signal would lead their pursuers right to them. It did rather carry the implication that the Endeavour crew were the ones in the wrong, however, which he wasn't sure he appreciated.

"... If you have any requirements or concerns that need to be cleared up right now also, please let me know."

The taller hybrid stepped up to the security officer, this Kino Taer, until he was at the edge of uncomfortably-close, and clasped his hands together behind his back. He looked down at her face for a long moment, looking past her visage and getting a better hold on how her emotions felt. Always was best to get a baseline before you started an interaction with an unknown, in his experience.

"Our release and a repaired runabout," he rumbled, knowing exactly how likely it was, "and at a minimum my CMO and I being allowed to personally confirm the status of our absent crew in sickbay."

"Apologies, Commander, but as I’m sure you’re aware, Security regulations regarding prisoners prevent your release until we have a chance to verify your identity and ensure it’s safe to let you go. You did threaten to blow up our hangar bay. As for Sickbay, you will be able to visit them personally as soon as we can allow it. I’ll get a status update for you within the hour."

'Prisoners'. There it is. Though to her credit, she was either an expert dissembler or she really believed the spiel she was feeding them. Perhaps both. It remained to be seen.

Well, then. Demands issued and refused, some fluff about following the protocol... all the right steps in the game of 'let's play Geneva Conventions' so far. The Brazilian moved to the opposite wall and crossed his arms as he leaned against it, not deigning to engage with the charade further. The bleeding knuckles on his left hand itched as the raw skin brushed against the fabric of his sleeve.

"Commander Ducote, Ranaan, three-zero-one-three-six-niner-three-eight."

Rank, Name, and Number - all one ever willingly gave a hostile captor. He suspected he'd become supremely bored of answering every question with them soon enough. He let the others answer, or decline, as they saw fit.

[ Lt. JG Evelyn Rawley | Fighter Assault Bay Lockers | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Nolan @Triage @Doc M. @Auctor Lucan
[Show/Hide]
Evelyn Rawley had staggered into the locker room of the fighter bay, still experiencing the hangover. She had been guzzling nonstop on a variety of alcohols since she gotten to her quarters after her discharge, just her luck to have a bloody turbolift seize up on her. She never recalled a turbolift working like that, and as a result, decided to walk. Her quarters were closer to the fighter bay, so she set course there and changed. She meant to go to the bay, but she thought of her throat, and decided to replicate some whiskey, and to justify it for medicinal purposes. She guzzled down a bottle, replicated a second, downed that too, replicated a third, downed that…

She woke up with a headache and staggered to her feet. Cripes, it was the last time she was going to get sauced up. She wasn’t about to fly with the Wolves inebriated.

“Computer, time and date,” she asked, groaning from the headache.

Informed of the time, Rawley blinked in surprise. Blimey. She had been out for more than thirty bloody hours, since she got discharged from sickbay. True, Rez told her if her throat acted up, she call her, but sod Rez. She had no aim to return to sickbay for a while. No, whiskey always helped…and it occurred to her, in her sauced stupor, of replicating a variety of other whiskeys, ranging from Bajoran to…did she order blood wine at one point?

She was stronger than she looked, for she made it all the way to the lockers, staggering her way, before landing her sorry arse into the lockers. She found her old medkit with her gear and got the right hypospray to relieve her of her hangover. Blimey, she never felt better.

The lockers were empty, she had noticed, now that she came to think of it. She wondered where Razor and the other Wolves were.

“Computer, locate Thomas Ravon.”

[Thomas Ravon is in the Fighter Bay]

She figured as much, and considering how empty the locker room was, the rest of the Wolves were there, too. Maybe even out for a flight.

But here in the Azure Nebula? Yeah, they were definitely there, she had seen it from her quarters; lightyears of sky-blue clouds. Something’s up if they’re still here.

“What are the Lone Wolves doing at the moment, Computer?” she inquired.

[The Lone Wolves are currently standing in for security and are in the process of detaining Starfleet Runabout Niger, attached to Starship Endeavour.]

Now that was interesting. It’s one thing to get the Wolves to fill in for the lads and lasses in yellow, but a runabout?

She pulled a pad from her locker and pulled up interior and exterior fighter bay footage. What she saw surprised her, as if she had enough surprises to go on for one day. The little bleeder, trapped in a tractor beam, tried to fire up her engines. The Wolves would’ve been burned to a crisp if it wasn’t for the EMP that conked it. Rawley could kiss the bloke who did it for saving the Wolves.

Powering down the padd, Rawley had just stood, ready to look for Razor, when she saw a girl enter the room. Slightly taller, ginger, and she wore the colours of one of the Wolves. Must be one of the new lasses, Rawley didn’t recognize her. And judging from the rifle, Rawley figured she hadn’t just gotten off the cockpit.

“Wotcha, ginger,” she said. “Been watching all the hullabaloo. What’s all the fuss about a wee runabout?”

As Ji would need cover, the game plan changed for Thomas, he looked over to Havenborn and shouted "Cover Ji!" Yet before he could finalize the rest of his command, Meony tapped open a comm link to the Runabout. Razor could hear loud and clear what she was shouting to them and he could feel the urge to blast the pilot down himself. He looked up at the Niger before he cursed a series of profanities before addressing Tancredi "MEONY! What the actual FUCK!?" The displeasure of the SCO evidently in his tone as he shot the ensign a look which pretty much could've killed her on the spot "I do not have the time, nor the need for further agitation to these people! Hit the lockers and remain there until I say otherwise!" he ordered her with a breezing voice. It was clear that the senior officer was beyond pissed off yet refrained from erupting into a full on shouting and cursing match.

[ Ens. Krystal "Meony" Tancredi (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Krystal_Tancredi,_callsign_%22Meony%22) | Hangar Deck | Fighter Assault Bay | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Nolan, @trevorvw, @Top Hat, @Mathis, @steelphoenix, @Auctor Lucan, @Doc M., @Even Angels Cry, @Multificionado & @TrexelCat
[Show/Hide]Meony rolled her eyes when Thomas Ravon yelled at her. No need for further agitation? They were beyond diplomacy with the fucklords in there! She wasn't the one that just threatened to fry fellow Federation officers! Hell, even if they were considered traitors and conspirators, they were supposed to conduct themselves like gentlemen and restraint, not "Ah'm gunna fuck y'all up just 'cause ye're all fahkin' traitors!", that just made them total assholes who didn't deserve an ounce of respect or consideration. Well not really, but Meony was not in the best of moods most times.

“All raht, fahn,” said Meony to Thomas, “geez!”

She slung her rifle over her shoulder and plodded towards the lockers, muttering to herself, “How'dja think Ah was gunna react? Asshole trahd t' kill us. Rude fucker. An' t' think Ah was bein' mah most diplmatic too...”

[ Fighter Assault Bay Lockers | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ]

As she entered the locker room, there was a young woman with very short hair, and at her greeting, she returned quickly, “'owdy, sugah.”

About the Runabout, she supposed it wasn't a state secret, plus, she'd been watching all about it, so she figured what the hell. Also, it was only a matter of time before Thomas and/or Daniel would be coming down to read her the riot act, first time for the former, umpteenth time for the latter. “Dem fahkin' "wee" Runabout was gunna frah us all with their impulse engines'n full reverse! Dumbfuck musta realized who we were and d'cide t' play self-sacrificin' hero and kill'a bunch of us. Asshole, raht? So Ah holler at 'em. Ravon didn't lahk dat, an' sent me 'ere. All Ah did was tell them Niger fuckers what jackholes they were! An' ta act lahk actual Federation people if they were Federation. Hmph!”

She yanked off her helmet and pulled her cowboy hat back on, which was always hanging around her neck. Looking over at the woman, she introduced herself, “Meony, formerly of da Resolve Grey Wolves, then Tribble Squadron, an' who maht ya be?”

[ Lt. JG Evelyn Rawley | Fighter Assault Bay Lockers | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Nolan @Triage @Doc M. @Auctor Lucan
[Show/Hide]

The first words the ginger girl spoke made Rawley crack an eyebrow. And, in fact, the ginger girl didn’t have to put the hat on for Rawley to tell she was a cowgirl. She had an innate admiration for the daft outlaws of Wild West fame in those ancient days. In fact, looking at her properly, Rawley realized that, were she reincarnated into a ginger cowgirl, she’d be looking at herself.

Not only that, the more Rawley looked at her, the more she liked her. Not in a sexual way, more in a manner of admiration and respect. Being a loner for the most part, Rawley had few friends. It looked like the time was ripe for a new friend, and as luck would have it, it came in the form of a ginger cowgirl named Meony.

“I’m Evelyn Rawley,” she answered. “I’m one of the original Lone Wolves. It’s a pleasure to meet a new member of the pack.” She shook her hand, her grin widening, given her husky Scot tones contrasting to Meony’s Southern drawl. And she thought sometimes people never understood her for the most part, but she new enough cowboys to understand the drawl.

“And I believe you on that bit about the runabout, lass. I saw the footage. Those wankers will regret trying to fry the Lone Wolves. And he definitely seems like an arsehole, whoever decided to play self-sacrificing hero. The buggers must’ve been anxious to scarper to try that. Certainly makes me wonder what they were up to, Meony.”

[ Lieutenant Elro Kobol (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Ayden_Tyre) | Aft Area | USS Niger --> Temporary Holding Cell | Deck 7 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy | @Top Hat @trevorvw @steelphoenix @TrexelCat @patches
[Show/Hide]=/\= Immediately After the Niger Lost Power =/\=

Elro scowled as the power to the runabout failed and the smell of burnt out equipment filled the cabin causing him to cringe at the pungent scent. His scowl only deepened as their commander grabbed his gun belt and made his way towards the entrance of the ship. He made eye contact with Vael, having ‘heard’ his though earlier about worrying about his patients. The look he gave the CSO was an exasperated, ‘I’m trying to, but my chief patient is making it difficult for all of us.’ Vael would probably only read an exasperated eye roll at the situation but that suited Elro for now as he turned to follow the commander back towards the aft section of the ship.

He passed Ducote though and made his way back to check on the patients he was physically tending to. Luckily none of them were relying on electronic monitoring systems tied to the ship. Some had cortical monitors but those were independently powered and still seemed to be working when he entered the aft section. He took out his tricorder and began scanning one of them, trying not to think about the situation on the rest of the ship. “Everything’s going to be fine,” he comforted the unconscious ensign in front of him though he was talking to himself more than anything. “The commander decided time for talking was over after literally cutting the comms off… seems kind of self-fulfilling if you ask me. Damned if I didn’t wish R’Rori was here to talk some sense into him.”

He sighed. He knew they were in an impossible situation and that Ducote was handling it the best way he knew how, but Elro was always a shoot never, ask questions and talk first kind of guy. Maybe if he’d been in the fore section when the call was made, maybe he could have read the man telepathically, told Ducote if he was being sincere. Elro was still mostly cutting himself off telepathically, but he would have done it for the safety of the ship. He set the tricorder down on the side table and looked around, he took a deep breath and exhaled, reaching for a medpack. If there was going to be a firefight, best he be nearby and ready to treat any phaser wounds. He didn’t want Kai or Ducote actually getting hurt, after all. However, just as he was reaching for the pack, his body became surrounded by white lights as he realized he was being transported off the Niger.

“Now what?”

He asked the question as he looked around, seeing his fellow Endeavour crew materializing around him in a similar fashion in what looked like a temporary holding area of some kind. A female trill with fascinating-looking cybernetic implants was standing on the other side of the force field, wearing security gold. He walked up behind Ducote as he talked to the woman. He let down the screen blocking the feelings and surface thoughts of those around him and focused his attention on her as they interacted. She seemed pleased to be there, on duty, though why was out of reach without pressing further. She also seemed very matter of fact, blunt, and honest, though just barely underneath that she resented them for their threats to blow up the hangar bay, which she vocalized a few moments later.

When Ducote left for the opposite wall, Elro stepped up to fill the space. He gave the security officer a warm, half smile. It was to let her know he wasn’t hostile, but not to convey any happiness of their situation. “Doctor Elro Kobol , Lieutenant and Chief Medical Officer… well former, of the USS Endeavour and most recently the USS Niger. I do have a few requests. I understand not being able to authorize a visit to your sickbay at this time, but if you could open a comm channel to your attending medical officer so I can update them on the status of my patients? Some of them need immediate, active care and it would be quicker for me to update them on the complexities of their cases instead of them having to start from ground zero. Next, I request a basic medkit. All duty stations should have one and I don’t know of any security regulations against basic medical supplies for prisoners, as you put it,” he said, emphasizing the harshness of the word. “Some of my crew here have non-threatening, but still painful, injuries that don’t need to go untreated while we wait.”

He looked around, wondering if he should continue with this next part or not. He figured he might as well, Ducote could get mad at him later. “You need to understand our point of view of this situation. Yes, we did just threaten to blow up your hangar, after being brought in under false pretenses of aid with a fake ship name when it turns out you’re the most wanted terrorists in the Federation. What would you have done in our situation? We still have no guarantee of how we’ll be treated so you’ll forgive us if we don’t have a lot of faith in your adherence to Starfleet regulations and rules, though myself, I'm a hopeless optimist so I'm still holding out for the chance that maybe this all works out somehow.” He paused for a moment. “Last request: we haven’t spoken to anyone here yet that even I don’t almost outrank. Unless we have a Lord of the Flies type situation going on, it would do well for your commanding officer to be brought here.”

With that he just stood there, a pleasant look on his face waiting for his very basic demands to be met, waiting to see if any of his other crewmembers would also choose to speak.

[ Lt Cmdr Vael Kaeris | Temporary Holding Cell | Deck 7 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy  ] Attn: @trevorvw  @TrexelCat  @Top Hat @Mathis @Auctor Lucan  @Nolan  @Doc M.  @Triage  @Even Angels Cry  @Multificionado and anyone else I missed

Vael was relieved, when he found himself beamed into custody, that he was conveniently facing a wall.  The sour expression that drew tight across his lips, while subtle to the untrained eye, was a withering testament to his frustration at the rapidity with which his bluff was called.  He was thankful his brothers weren't present to assess his performance as it would likely end in an hours long dress down and personal critique.

Taking a deep breath, he listened to the commander behind him addressing what sounded to be a female guard doing what she no doubt thought to be her best under the circumstances. He honestly debated whether to push through with his ruse -- confront the guard, question whether anyone had any grounds to challenge him on the matter of probes, but that would likely require some level of demonstration at this point, and in thirty short minutes, his ruse would be ultimately proven false regardless.  Where he had hoped to invoke a discussion between superior officers that might lead to a more amicable parting, it seemed he had only managed to push these renegades to more drastic measures.

No, he wasn't ready to turn around.  Fortunately, the commander's recitation of his name and number showed that he, too, was disinclined to cooperate.  Now, however, half the crew had been snatched away to their sickbay, or so they had claimed.  What little leverage they'd had on the run-about was now wholly exhausted.  The good doctor, however, was not to be dissuaded and immediately set forth a series of demands regarding the care and well-being of his charges.  There was something in his blunt optimism that Vael appreciated and respected, so contrary as it was to the royal practice back on Bactrica.

When Kobol  requested that a higher ranking officer be brought into the mix, Vael was forced to swallow an amused smile as that had been what he'd hoped to do mere moments before they'd been snatched away.  If they ever got out of this situation, he made a mental note to set up a secure transport inhibitor on the run-about should ever a similar circumstance present itself.

As he stood silently, he made an effort to bind his hair into something more appropriate to duty-ready, although lacking his clips, it was not as easy a prospect and required a far more detailed bit of braiding to help keep his shoulder length hair in place.  Cramped on the Niger and occupied as he was, preoccupied with their ongoing and practical survival, he'd lacked the time to devote to such effort, but if they were to be held prisoner and interrogated for defending themselves against renegades then he should look his best.

When at last he felt himself presentable, he turned and gave the guard a dispassionate look.  "Kaeris, Vael.  Lieutenant Commander.  Two-nine-six-zero-zero-one-five-three."

[ Lt. Kai Akoni | Airlock | USS Niger ] Attn: @SteelPhoenix  @TrexelCat  @Top Hat @Mathis @Auctor Lucan  @Nolan  @Doc M.  @Triage  @Even Angels Cry  @Multificionado and anyone else I missed

The traitors had just cut power to the runabout, Kai surmised that if anything were to happen, it was going to happen soon.

He had kept both phaser rifles pointed at the airlock as Ducote had joined him in anticipation of shooting whatever showed up at the airlock. The air was getting stuffy and hot as life support was off and there was no air circulating. A small bead of sweat had formed just above his left eyebrow, which rolled down, following the path of least resistance and dropped off his face and onto the floor.

I wish they’d hurry up Kai thought to himself. Waiting is always the hardest part. No sooner had the thought gone through his head, that he felt the familiar tingle and lights of being transported. It was a genius tactic on the part of the traitors, even if a little cowardly.

As he was being dematerialized, Kai exasperatedly sighed. They lost this round.

[ Lt. Kai Akoni |Temporary Holding Cell | Deck 7 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ]

They materialized inside a holding cell. Kai found this an odd feeling as he was usually on the other side of the forcefield. Most of his crew mates were there with him, however the injured weren’t. The Trill Petty Officer was talking with Ducote, explaining how Kai and the other crew were prisoners.

Prisoners to traitors....great

After Ducote had given his name, rank and serial number Kai was well aware that if Ducote wasn’t interested in cooperating, the Kai was all for it.

The Doc had a passionate plea to the security guard, trying to reason and use logic. Kai had to respect that. It was a nice speech, but Kai wasn’t sure if the security officer bought it.

The giant Hawaiian looked over at Lt. Cmdr. Kaeris who also gave name, rank and serial number.

Kai stood for a minute when the security guard came over to him. A ton of possibilities were going through his head.

Do I cooperate? Do I not? If I cooperate, maybe I can help my crew get out of here..

In the end, Kai made his decision and spoke,

”Akoni, Kai. Lieutenant. Four-one-one-one-four-eight-zero-zero”

[ Ens. Krystal "Meony" Tancredi (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Krystal_Tancredi,_callsign_%22Meony%22) | Fighter Assault Bay Lockers | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Multificionado
[Show/Hide]Meony smiled at Evelyn, shaking her hand and the girl dumped her powered down rifle onto a bench before settling herself down, her power suit making a soft mechanical whine with every move. “One'a them 'riginals, eh? Nahs t' meet'cha.”

The redhead looked perturbed after that, thinking on Evelyn's last remark. What made them so anxious? Well, they were in a Runabout and this was a whole vector. And they did just run into the “Borg.” Meony turned to look at Evelyn somberly, “Ravon said they've run inta Borg out there...as in, not far from 'ere. Way Ah reckon, we ain't far enough away from 'em t' feel raht as rain anytahm soon...”

She shook her head, her red locks swaying gently with the movement, “Dat don't excuse what th' fuckers trahd t' do t' us. But...” she looked at Evelyn, “...ya gunna flah with us? Ready 'n' rarin' t' go?”

It was at that odd moment Meony realized that she felt no fear or trepidation at facing the nightmares known as the Borg. What were they compared to the things they'd already faced in Hell Sector? Or right here? The parasites? And there was a living proof of them right there in the brig at that very moment, under intense security and monitoring. Who else was infected? What about Evelyn? Was she infected? Was there a way to tell? Would they show up in tricorder scans? But the redhead didn't burn her brains out on it. Instead, she'd leave that to the higher ups, and just focus on flying.

[ PO2 Eliska Bremmer | Brig | Security Center | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy] @Auctor Lucan @Nolan @chXinya

Prisoner interview. 

Not the first time Bremmer did that.  After all, there was much of that when she was on the Grainger.  After all, she had been one of the primary team members for the boarding parties when doing inspections, and there were always interviews with at least the vessel's master, if not a number of his mates as well.  During those, she would play various roles; at times she was just a silent presence; others she was meant to look overtly intimidating; at times she was a sympathetic ear and female presence.  Or, even rarely, she would play the easily corruptible lower-deck dweller. 

But in this case?  She wasn't even meant to be intimidating, because she had seen what a host possessed by one of those parasites could do, and had been briefed as to how they saw the world.  No, her heavily armed, suited-up presence wasn't even a deterrent, it was purely reactive.  A contingency that everyone hoped would never be needed. 

But the longer she stood there, the more her skin was crawling.  The more she could feel a cold lump of fear coalescing into the pit of her stomach.  And the Nicander-thing, the way it was taunting them all? Her armoured fingers were readjusting themselves on the grip and forestock of her rifle; she pulled it in a little tighter into her shoulder.

And then, she just couldn't keep her feelings to herself anymore.  "Doc, Sirs, that thing in there is just playing with you!  Put up the occulus and let me turn it into a greasy stain, put it out of our misery!"

[ Lt. JG Evelyn Rawley | Fighter Assault Bay Lockers | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Nolan @Triage @Doc M. @Auctor Lucan
[Show/Hide]

The Borg?

Rawley blinked when Meony mentioned that. That’s brilliant. Just when she thought things couldn’t get any worse. It seemed it was a matter of time before things went from the frying pan and into the fire.

Of course, it didn’t excuse the buggers from trying to barbeque the Wolves, but it was a fool who never considered remote possibilities. Trying to run from the Theurgy after a run-in with the Borg, who wouldn’t be desperate?

Then again, there’s something worse to worry about than the Borg, although the inevitability of encountering the Borg with what the Theurgy is dealing with felt to Rawely like she was among a pack of wolves wary of an elephant stampede while one of them had worms.

Still, what had she to lose?

“Well, Meony, I have gotten out of sickbay. Got me throat sliced. Much as the doctors recommend not to fly, in case of hemorrhage, to me…that’s no excuse to wag off. It’s no bloody excuse at all for any Lone Wolf to wag off. If Razor needs me, behind a cockpit or armaments blazing, I’m his Jock, ginger.”

Rawley raised a hand and patted Meony’s shoulder once in a gesture of friendliness.

“Oh,” she added, “if those wankers turned out they were running from the Borg, it’s best to be alert anyhow. Sometimes a pack of wolves stray dogs don’t trust is better around with than a blooming dinosaur, regardless of existence.”

Crikey. It occurred to Rawley that those words of wisdom would’ve been something her Uncle Haldane would say. He can be full of wise tosh like that when the occasion permitted.

[PO2 Kino Taer | Temporary Holding Cell | Security Centre | Deck 7 | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy] @Top Hat @trevorvw @steelphoenix @Mathis @TrexelCat

Kino smirked momentarily as Ducote retreated to the corner of the cell and gave her his name, rank, and serial number. She had the roles reversed a few times in her life, giving out the same information to the same questions. The role of jailor was one she hadn’t played often before. Most of the time, brig duty was assigned to someone else or that someone else would specifically request that kind of duty. It was a waste of her skills, she felt, and her time. She pulled her arms back to the front so that she could consult the PADD she brought. Thankfully, someone had the foresight to download Starfleet personnel files before the escape and Security could thus check IDs against at least a recent version.

The attempt at intimidation was a nice touch, though. She totally didn’t have years of experience with taller, stronger men attempting to use their size to make her uncomfortable, both consciously and unconsciously. She also definitely did not land a couple of them in the hospital following such failed attempts at intimidation. She was amused at the whole charade.

Eventually, the others gave their names and ranks, two of them with the same curt response. The doctor, though, decided it was his time to give a little speech. She listened attentively after checking his name and rank against the record she had access to and chuckled at the end of it. She waited until the other two officers gave their responses before turning to the medical officer with her free hand resting on her hip. There was a moment of silence as she measured the man before her, noting the black eyes and youthfulness.

Fucking Betazoids. Bugger is probably reading me right now.

“Right now, Lieutenant Kobol , all we have is each other. All of the officers are busy doing their jobs. Just as soon as the captain or some other officer meeting your clearly high standards is available, you’ll be the first to know.” Kino conspicuously glanced at Kobol ’s collar where his twin pips sat. “Sir.”

She held up one finger in the more or less universally understood gesture of “wait one” and left the room. A minute or so later, Taer returned with a first aid kit, which she showed to the others in general before opening it and showing the contents specifically to Kobol . After he had a chance to check that it was indeed full of supplies meant to treat minor injuries, she closed the box again and moved to the control panel for the force field. A few taps and some quick checking created a small opening on the lower corner next to her, just big enough to slide the first aid kit through. Once she did that through gently kicking it through, two taps reverted the changes to the force field and Kino moved back to the center of the room.

“If you need additional supplies beyond what’s in that box, Lieutenant, let me know so I can make sure appropriate medical care can be given. Despite what the Federation News Network may say, we do follow proper Starfleet protocols here when we can.” Kino smiled while she said the next sentence before her face returned to a neutral expression. “I don’t think I’ve been called a terrorist since I left Trill. I have the utmost trust in the ability of our medical staff to tend to your more injured crewmates. I will place a request for one of the doctors to visit us here so that you can speak to them directly about your patients.”

The Petty Officer was unused to talking this much all at once, but the bridge did insist that she try to be diplomatic enough to at least get some information out of these recalcitrants. Bremmer is really so much better at playing the good girl. Heh, “good girl”. She took a moment to take a breath before she spoke again.

“Regardless of the overall situation that’s painted us as a target for the entire Federation, I would hope that we can all agree that the Borg are a threat against all sentient life that can’t be ignored. You mentioned the Endeavour ran into them nearby and was destroyed. Sir, you also said you were tracking their warp trail, I believe?” She turned her gaze to Ducote for the question, then to each of the Starfleet officers in turn, the cybernetic right eye adding an unintentional level of intensity to it. “We need to know as much as you can tell us about the Borg ship you ran into. The sooner we can figure out what’s going on with that, the better for all of us – for the Federation as a whole, really.”

[ Cmdr Ranaan Ducote | Temporary Holding Cell | Deck 7 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @patches @Mathis @steelphoenix @trevorvw

The good Doctor was verbose. Futilely, Ranaan suspected, but he wasn't annoyed Kobol  hadn't taken the others' cue and given the minimum to Taer - quite the contrary, in fact. As the saying goes, if you don't ask, you don't get. And asking cost them nothing. He could hardly blame the warm-hearted CMO for wanting to try and talk to them.

As he leaned against the bulkhead, he closed his eyes to help him concentrate on feeling out the people in his range. Reading Taer was interesting, now that he had been allowed to take the time to 'attune' to her empathically. She was bored and amused by turns, and watching the two compete in her mind was like relearning a language after not having spoken it for a few years. He'd known Trill, and there had been a Joined shuttle pilot on the Endeavour's roster - though the symbiote had changed the dialect somewhat - so he did know which emotions felt like what. It was probably for the best, all things considered, but there was no telepathic version of the UT, and so the period of readjustment was required.

Yep. Definitely the 'Don't call me Sir, I work for a living' type. Poor Elro.

His thoughts drifted back to Blue, now that it seemed they weren't in imminent danger of death, and his face seemed to gain another three lines as the sick feeling in his stomach returned. Not knowing her fate was the hardest part, but without a body there was no death. She was alive, wherever she was, enjoying the comforts of some old Excelsior-class or other's guest quarters and driving their Ops people mad with her constant disassembling and rebuilding. The latter thought was enough to elicit the ghost of a smirk, before Taer's attention rounded on him and brought him back to the present.

"We need to know as much as you can tell us about the Borg ship you ran into. The sooner we can figure out what's going on with that, the better for all of us - for the Federation as a whole, really."

Ducote cracked an eye open at that one, fixing Kino with a steady one-eyed stare as he weighed her request. The logic was sound, of course, and he even happened to agree with her. But still, it was 'die to the Borg', or 'die to the Theurgy', or 'die to Task Force Archeron when they catch up to the Theurgy and we have yet to escape it'. What one ship could do to a potential Borg invasion was up for debate - no matter how ludicrous the warship's broadside might be - and he sincerely doubted a defector-dreadnought would turn out to be the galaxy's saviour.

With that in mind, then, he closed his eye again and recited his RNN. The panel on which he leaned resonated with his baritone, lending an odd air to his voice. 

"Commander Ducote, Ranaan, three-zero-one-three-six-niner-three-eight."

After a brief pause he added for the benefit of his own crew, "And I'm sure I don't have to explain that anyone believing horseshit assertions without proof should standby to standby." He wasn't particularly worried, however. None of the assembled people (civilians perhaps aside; he didn't know them as well) were daft enough to take a mere 'nuh uh!' at face value. "Give them their hour to generate their story. We can appraise it then." And after, I suppose we start getting Creative.

The XO lapsed back into silence, a statue against the wall, eyes closed as he resumed his mental watch, trying to tease out whatever scant details he could through layers of bulkheads.

[Lt. Commander Wenn Cinn | Security Center | Deck 7 | Vector 2| USS Theurgy]

Cinn continued to watch in contemplative silence while his companions took turns asking questions to the thing that used to be Doctor Nicander, and getting nowhere.  He didn’t expect much else honestly, based on the reports he’d read from Ida, Captain Ives, and others.  When Rez stepped up to the forcefield he felt a moment of fear for her safety, if this thing no longer felt pain seeing as it was animating a dead body, could a forcefield stop it before it reached through and slammed her into it?  He kept his expression neutral though, the less he gave this creature to work with, the less it could harm him.

And then Bremmer lost her cool.  Bringing Wenn out of his studious pose, he turned to give her a commanding glare.  “That’s enough Petty Officer…” he started with a calm tone, but before he could continue the door slid open to reveal the Security Aide, looking a bit flustered.  “I’m sorry, Comm…I mean Captain?  You’re needed in the temporary custody cell, urgent.”

That brought a frown to Cinn’s face, both at the intrusion and the news.  When he called for this interrogation he specifically ordered no interruptions and disabled his combadge just in case.  He’d even had the klaxons and alert lighting disabled in here.  There was no way in the galaxy he was going to give that thing behind the forcefield an iota of information.  If the Aide thought it prudent to interrupt, and personally, despite his earlier orders it had to have been big.  Nodding to Tovarek, the Bajoran uncrossed his arms and made for the door.  “I’ll be back.  Please continue.”

The Aide fell into step behind him as soon as Cinn was through the door, the forcefield snapping into place as soon as it was sealed.  “So what is the urgent matter?”  As the Aide filled his captain in, Cinn started to regret his no-contact order.  If he’d been contactable things may not have escalated to this level.  Or maybe not, this Commander Ducote was apparently a bit of a hot head.  But would I have acted any differently if I were in his place?  “Return to you post, I’ll signal if I need anything.  And let the Bridge know I’m reachable if necessary.”

Pausing at the door for a quick relaxing roll of the shoulders, Cinn took up his command mask once again, bracing himself for what is sure to be an unpleasant conversation.  Striding in at a full pace, the door barely opened in time.  He saw Petty Officer Taer standing in the center, talking with the guests.  “I agree, if the Borg are here we need to get as much intel as we can, and pool our resources to combat the threat.  I doubt anyone here has any desire to join any Collectives today.” he said, trying to sound reasonable.  Taking up a spot just in front of the forcefield Cinn quickly spotted the one with three pips on his collar and focused on him. 

“Commander Ducote?  I’m Commander Wenn Cinn, commanding Vector 2 of the Theurgy.  I apologize for not being available to parlay as soon as we received your distress signal, I’ve been indisposed with a critical matter.  Here’s what I’d like to do for you: I’ll cut right to the chase as you humans say, and show you exactly why you’ve been told that we’re traitors when we are not.  Afterwards, I’ll invite you to sit in my office and we will talk about everything, commander to commander.  While that happens, assuming any of you still have an appetite, Petty Officer Taer here will get whatever food and drink you all would like.  Any wounded will of course be taken directly to Sickbay, your doctor welcome to accompany them, though for the time being you will remain under guard.”  For the last, Cinn shifted his gaze to the one in blue and gave him a nod.

Not waiting on a response, Cinn glanced up, “Computer, display video log Acreth-Zero-Two."  Instantly, a holographic recording appeared to Cinn’s side showing a woman in a black dress sitting in a holding cell, looking like she was in total control…. (https://uss-theurgy.com/forum/index.php/topic,1188.msg9059.html#msg9059)

[ Lt Cmdr Thomas 'Razor' Ravon | Hangar Deck | Fighter Assault Bay | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Havenborn , @Doc M. , @Blue Zephyr , @Auctor Lucan , @Even Angels Cry

With Tancredi out of the game, the agitation seemed to last on Ravon as he inspected the ship with narrowed eyes. In the meantime he awaited a response from the Bridge regarding medical supplies or any means of communications inside the Niger. Ji was on her way to power down the ship and was busy with the power coupling whilst Daniel provided cover. He listened to Tessa's idea and he nodded "It could work, but who should we send in? Who knows they might just hold that person hostage in case their demands aren't met." he murmured to her. His foot tapped on the floor in the meantime before Heshaws's voice returned to Thomas "Sorry lieutenant commander, the entire crew of the Niger has been transferred to the brig and sickbay respectively for the non wounded and wounded crewmen."

Thomas cursed out as he stepped closer to the Niger and signaled Tali to follow up on him with her squad. The two pilots who were with him were to follow as well. They approached the airlock and he rolled his tongue over his teeth "Tali, use your squad to form a perimeter. The rest goes with me to enter the ship. We'll be looking for evidence of their sightings with the Borg. Look for PADDs, ship logs, physical evidence." he instructed them before he looked at Ji "Eun and Liam, can you give this ship minimum power? Join us after to check if nothing is out of order structure wise? Hidden compartments or anything." he asked the deck crew.

After having confirmed that everyone understood what they had to do he walked over to the entry point of the Niger. Two entry points, yet he had chosen to move in from the left point. With a hiss the hatch depressurized and the venting process occurred before the door opened. Ravon stepped in as first and looked around in the ship's cockpit. The faint smell that hung around in the air was just a reminder in what dire conditions the Endeavour crew had been in. "Fan out, shout out if you find anything." he grunted as he accessed the ship's logs and started to read them in silence.

[ Maya (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Dr._Maya) | Brig | Security Center | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @chXinya, @Nolan, @DocReno, @Arista, @Auctor Lucan, @CanadianVet

“Your attempts to divide us will not work Doctor,” Maya announced calmly as her large hazel eyes remained unblinkingly fixed on Lucan cin Nicander.  “You have already demonstrated your ability to manipulate and corrupt us, but now that your role has been exposed your efforts will not be effective.  Rest assured, our attention will remain focused on you and nothing shall distract us.”

---

[ Tessa May Lance, callsign:  Goldeneye (http://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Tessa_May_Lance,_callsign_%22Goldeneye%22) | USS Niger | Vector 02 | Deck 16 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @Nolan, @trevorvw, @Top Hat, @Mathis, @steelphoenix, @Auctor Lucan, @Triage, @Even Angels Cry, @Multificionado & @TrexelCat

“Boy, it sure looks like it was crowded in here,” Tessa Lance commented as she entered the runabout and looked around.  

She placed her rifle on her shoulder and turned around to survey the runabout interior before moving further in when she heard an “ow!” right behind her.   She spun around quickly to see Lieutenant Talidenai zh'Idenna, callsign ‘Terror’ scowling at her and holding one of her antenna as if it was going to come off.   The Andorian looked so angry she was literally blue in the face. 

“Tessa!” a masculine voice barked behind her as she turned to face the Andorian.  Tessa spun around and saw Ensign Christopher Slayton, callsign ‘Husker’ clutching his head like he had been struck with a club.

“Ow!” Tali shouted as Tessa spun around to face Chris.  “You idiot, you hit me right in the face!”

“I’m-I’m-I’m sorry,” Tessa burbled as she turned and quickly took her rifle off her shoulder to hold it by the sight.

“Ah!” Christopher cried.  “Tessa!  You got me in the mommy-daddy department!”

“Oh Chis, I’m so sorry!” Tessa wailed.  As she turned to face him the Andorian seized her rifle before she could get hit with it again.

“Go,” Tali ordered as she seized Tessa by the upper arm to get her attention.  “Hit the showers.  Take a head check.   Go anywhere you like but just go!” she snarled.  “We got it in here.”

“Oh!  Um, er um, okay,” Tessa stammered as she headed out of the runabout and back into the fighter bay.   “Er, ah, call if you need me.”

“We don’t!  Just go!  That’s an order!” the angry Andorian insisted before she closed the airlock.

Talk about humiliating.  After Tessa placed her phaser rifle back into her Valkyrie, she decided that hitting the showers seemed like a good idea.  That way no one could hear her crying. 

She had just entered the locker room when she saw Evelyn Rawley talking to Krystal Tancredi.  Rawley was alive!

“Ghost!” Tessa cheered as she lunged forward and embraced the recuperating pilot from behind.   “You’re all right!  You’re alive!  I was so worried about you and thought I would never see you again!”

[ Lt. JG Evelyn Rawley | Fighter Assault Bay Lockers | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Nolan @Doc M. @Triage @Auctor Lucan
[Show/Hide]

Rawley jumped, and then smiled to see one of the old crowd, one of the original Lone Wolves: “Goldeneye” Lance.

“Well, I’ll be a dog’s bullocks! Goldeneye!” She leapt at her old chum and squeezed her in an embrace, a practical bear hug. Once that was done (especially to give Goldeneye some air), she took her in.

“Cor, ‘course you’d see me again, Goldeneye,” Rawley added. “It’ll take more than an eating iron to take me down, though I’ve missed Sickbay.” As she said it, she couldn’t help but wince at the mention of the knife that sliced her throat. Rather than keep going on it, she changed the subject. “Cor, what brings you in? And I thought the Wolves were filling in for the lads and lasses in yellow, what with the dodgy runabout,”

In fact, it had just occurred to her that Lance had been benched like ginger Meony. She listened to Lance and Meony as they brought her up to speed. Once she felt so, she rose to leave.

“Thanks for filling me in, lassies,” she said. “I’m going to go have a word with Ravon, and see if he needs help. If he keeps chivvying Wolves down here, there won’t be any Wolves left to fill in for the lads and lassies in yellow.”

[ Lt. JG Evelyn Rawley | Hangar Deck | Fighter Assault Bay | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ]

On her walk down to the Fighter Assault Bay, she had intended to surprise Ravon and the rest of the Wolves, but once she got in, what she saw surprised her instead. She heard tell that a runabout had given the Wolves trouble, but looking at it physically, she could see why.

The more she stared at it, the worse it looked, and not from the apparent look that the EMP had put it out of commission. Rawley had flown runabouts before; cripes, now that she thought about it, she once nicked one to skive off a day at school once, treated it like a caravan. She resisted smiling at the memory and focused on the runabout. She knew from experience a runabout’s no fighter, in manoeuvrability at least. From how manky it looked, they seemed to have a worse time than the Theurgy did. So dirty it was that she can barely make out the name of the runabout. She got the first two letters of it…

“Ni?”

That’s what she said, for it was the only letters she could discern, the rest obscured by what she figured would easily be soot. From the amount of it, the buggers must’ve been close to their starship when it exploded.

Rawley walked to the wall in front of the runabout and leaned back; in this way, she would likely get the attention of one of the Wolves, maybe even Razor himself. She smiled at his potential reaction of seeing her so unexpectedly before her; she may easily live up to her callsign: Ghost. She folded her arms, rifle slung over a shoulder, and waited with the smug look of a wolf.

---

OOC: Not sure what the Niger would look like, but my best guess it's a runabout that's had a close shave and a narrow escape at the same time. Bonus points if you can spot the Monty Python reference.

[ Cmdr Ranaan Ducote | Temporary Holding Cell | Deck 7 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @patches @chXinya @Mathis @steelphoenix @trevorvw

Just as his tired, itching eyes became used to their closed darkness and his sleep-deprived brain tried to release its aching hold on consciousness, despite his mental efforts to start counting guards outside their cell, he was again addressed by name. It did seem awfully important to this crew's self-esteem not to be thought of as traitors. He wondered if that was supposed to allay the lives they'd claimed. Or the civilians they'd endangered recently at Starbase 84.

That news (and the cartoonish broadcast from Ives) had reached them just after the Borg did. It had almost faded into the background amidst the other demands on their attention at the time, but it had still been a sobering thought. Starbase 84 wasn't terribly far from where the Endeavour had been operating.

Sighing, he stood straighter and waited for the Bajoran to run out of steam. He didn't. Instead, he dialled up a video log before any of the collected kidnap-victims could get a word in edgewise. Arms crossed still, Ducote turned to watch it. To play the game, go through the motions.

Wenn Cinn was in the recording, too, though the rest of the faces were unfamiliar. He watched impassively, staying perfectly silent until it finished. As the screen reverted to the UFP laurel, a filename and timestamp, the silence stretched. Ranaan would have confessed to a certain bafflement; what was that supposed to prove? May as well ask.

"Mr Wenn," he started, his voice thicker than usual thanks to his period of quietude. "I'm not sure how convincing you think you are. Recordings are, of course, notoriously difficult to falsify," he said, the sarcasm dripping from his words, "but the subject matter... well. Conveniently undetectable 'no you guys they totally exist' parasites that turn their hosts moustache-twirlingly evil, have infected enough of the Federation to conceivably indirectly affect billions of citizens, and they have an endgame that also ensures their own destruction?"

He looked around the cell at his colleagues as a sort of sanity check, as if to say 'am I off-base here?' Slowly, arms still crossed over his chest, he stepped up to the forcefield to stand directly in front of the bulky Bajoran.

"Have you heard of Occam's Razor, Mr Wenn?" Of course he had; it was one of the simplest maxims going. But emphasis for effect had always been a vice for Ducote. "All other things being equal, the simplest explanation is likely to be correct. So which would you find more credible - extradimensional creatures that may not be seen by any means yet can still interact in a meaningful way with this existence that have turned this entire quadrant on a road towards some nebulous 'chaos', or about a thousand otherwise-sensible crewmen had their thoughts poisoned by a sword-waving megalomaniac and a rogue AI with an iron-fisted monopoly on the information available to them, and they defected from the Fleet, convinced of their own righteousness."

The hybrid rapped a knuckle on the forcefield, sending a jolt down the nerves of his finger and producing a buzzing plane of static for an instant between them.

"Release us, or just get it the fuck over with."

[ Dr. Nicander (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Dr._Lucan_cin_Nicander) | Holding Cell A | Brig | Security Center | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Nolan @Arista @Doc M. @CanadianVet
[Show/Hide]Oh, sweet Amelya - this new voice of the Rez symbiont - how she touched upon matters without clarity, without seeing the obvious. The skin-puppets were all imbeciles, as much he should have expected, but that he would fear the cessation of existence? He gave her a patronising glance, yet his comment was forestalled by the voice of the security guard. This puny fool of a human female, thinking herself safe behind her armour. She was like an egg with legs and teats, oblivious to how he might tear out the yolk inside. He merely looked at her, his smile and stare unchanged. "You do not know the full extent of misery yet."

His quiet reply might have been overridden by Cinn's voice, where he corrected the Petty Officer for speaking out of turn. Nicander's pale eyes drifted to his old friend, wondering if he had the fortitude to speak to him directly. His answer came quickly, in how Cinn practically leapt at the chance to leave the Brig when called for. Nicander could but smile and watch him leave, thinking how friendship had clearly shifted to cowardice. I will still be here, you'll see. You can't deny my existence. You can't refute your negligence, for I am the proof of your ineptitude.

He was left with other cattle, with Rez and Maya, ch'Rayya and Tovarek, and the egg with teats. His dear Vulcan doctor tried to deny his ability to affect them, thinking that the revelation of his existence was enough to dismiss him. He decided that he'd indulge Rez and those present in how they knew too little; that their guesswork led them astray. They were soon to die nonetheless, so he'd let them die a bit wiser still.

"You listen, but you don't hear. You breathe but you do not think. Witless cattle; no more than animals," he said, shaking his head. Evidently, he had to speak as if to children. "This host has been troublesome until the last, his abilities a detriment for control... but a prize worth the wait. The Doctor clung to his own sanity, less inclined to yield, which made him both the worst and perfect vessel for our cause. For in part, he was ignorant to our ambitions, in another sense, he was keen on maintaining his facade for his own reasons, shifting as they have been. He was meant to aid Acreth, but chose to fight her instead, irksome as he remained. Our will was never absolute... until he was forced to rely on us entirely for survival."

The mould, the host mind, it was irrelevant now, yet instead of speaking of the Alata's influence, there was mockery to be made.

"Of course you'd ascribe your own fears of death to an unknown entity, trying to make sense of it," he said, adjusting the frayed sleeve around his stump, the ruin to his attire and body mattering naught. "Does it make you feel safer, thinking there is a way to end me? Would you sleep more soundly whilst thinking I will cease to exist when I am forced to discard this host? Would it be more simple for your limited comprehension to think me a mere individual? I am one with my kin. There is no 'I'."

Nicander's disjointed gait took him closer to the forcefield - his face cast in flickering light. In the lack of pretence, his words sliced as deeply as his unblinking stare. "We are the nameless darkness; the great attractor. We are the cut upon your existence, the abyss down which everything shall fall. We can't fear what we cannot experience. Darkness is immortal, where all light will cease to shine, and your reality will be fed to us." He looked upon Rez, simplifying it further for her, since she had made the claim. When he spoke next, his voice emanated from the tear inside. "We cannot fear death, for we do not fear what we are."

Having said this, he bared his teeth at them all - eyes caught ablaze. "The will of-"

An ugly sound tore through his throat, a breath sucked through his clenched teeth. The light in his eyes winked out, and they were wide as he sunk to his knees, clutching his ruined torso. The pain! The collective onslaught of the damage done unto his frame, it set his nervous system ablaze. There was nothing but will that made him cling unto thought - intentions almost lost in the maelstrom. "Hel....!"

Lucan fell on his whole side, clutching himself as if to keep himself together. The parasite had granted him life, sustaining him, but he had to reach out. Only through the imprint of light done by Heather McMillan could he retain his body for his own again, despite the cost. He sucked down another breath, and he would be dead if it was not for the darkness - just below the surface of his mind. The oily presence forced his heart to beat, and he rode the murky tide of eldritch madness, like a boat in a storm, but the pain.... it was as if he had stepped through a door and into a waterfall. He was bludgeoned by the toll his body had taken, and he fought for breath whilst speaking with his own lips.

"Help m-me!" he cried, and choked on every sound he managed to utter -  eyes rolling in his skull. "M-Make me w-wh-!"

It was an impossibility, to remain in a lucid state. The pain was all there, unfiltered by the darkness that made him linger. He could not hold on for more than a few seconds. Worst of it was that his pleading words might not reach the onlookers. He had no means to tell them more. There was so much to tell them, and where he lay, shaking upon the deck plates, he tried to look at them. He bit his teeth together, and hissed it out - that which mattered most. "Y-You must... weaponize... the light!"

And then, there was no more strength in him. The shock to his ruined body, when unmitigated by darkness... it shut his eyes.

Only the dormant beast in the unconscious body made him keep breathing - bound to wake eventually again.

---

OOC: Even though everyone didn't post in this scene, I feel I had to advance this scene nonetheless. Tricorder readings will say that Nicander is unconscious again, like when he'd been stunned in Sickbay. His heart keeps beating despite it all, but the likelihood that it's the host that will be there when he wakes up is only as good as the health of his body, and he doesn't need the parasite any more. @Nolan @Arista @Doc M. @CanadianVet , 7 days response time begins for you all.

@Nolan and Tactical CONN: The findings on the USS Niger should give a lot of circumstantial evidence about how the crew were - in fact - following a warp trail back to the point of origin. There will be PADDs suggesting trajectory, and for sake of posterity, a lot of documentation was made about the attack on the Endeavour itself. The findings are proof enough to present to Wenn Cinn, Tovarek and the rest. The Borg threat to the Federation has been verified. Okafor is available on the Bridge for a report, and we go from there!

[ Maya (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Dr._Maya) | Brig | Security Center | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @chXinya, @Nolan, @DocReno, @Arista, @Auctor Lucan, @CanadianVet

After Nicander’s outburst, the silence was deafening, broken only by the irritating chime of a medical tricorder that Maya’s long spidery fingers were operating.  “Fascinating,” the little Vulcan commented dryly.  “Notice the way it referred to itself as ‘us’.  It seems we are dealing with a colony creature that wants everything we have and doesn’t understand why we just don’t surrender it.  Assuming his performance wasn’t merely a deception, Doctor Nicander won’t be able function without the creature that has usurped him, unless we take pains to repair his broken body of course,” she finished as she looked up from her readings to address her colleague.  “It is possible that same arrangement of his synapses that prevents his species from being contacted telepathically could conceivably give his people a resistance to total possession from our enemy,” she continued.  “If so, it might be possible for our chief medical officer to regain control once his body is repaired enough to function without the parasite’s influence.  He would, of course, still be subjected to the unceasing whispers of his ‘darker half’ as it were,” she admitted as she made air quotes with her long, spidery fingers and allowed her tricorder to rest on the strap over her shoulder, “and we cannot begin to determine the psychological damage he may have suffered or whether or not he could be trusted even if free of the creature.  Nevertheless he may be an invaluable source of information against our enemy.”  

[ Lieutenant Elro Kobol (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Ayden_Tyre) Temporary Holding Cell | Deck 7 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy | @Top Hat @trevorvw @steelphoenix @TrexelCat @patches  @chXinya
[Show/Hide]Elro stared straight back at their guard, trying not to showcase how angry and frustrated it made him to not be able to help his more injured crewmates in any way. He had no idea what the medical situation was on this ship, and he was supposed to trust this person’s judgment? He forced himself to not look away though, and to meet her condescending smile with as neutral an expression as he could manage. He could sense that her mentioning a higher ranked officer bothered her. No doubt as a Petty Officer 2nd Class, this woman had plenty of experience, but Elro didn’t care one whit about that right now. He was somewhat glad that it got to her a little bit, but that was his petty side talking. He kept that feeling from showing, masked by his mild irritation.

“Thank you for the medkit, and just so you understand: my comment about a ranking officer was not intended as an insult, simply the quickest way to expedite our situation.” He often found he had to explain his blunt honesty to the offense-prone non-telepathic races. It was a habit he’d formed and cemented since his adolescence. He didn’t wait for her response and instead carried the medkit over to the commander and began running a low-power dermal regenerator over the man’s injured hand, focusing his frustration onto the simple task of treating anyone in this room that needed it, no matter how trivial. He felt powerless to help his crewmates, people he’d come to care about, and he hated that feeling more than anything else. This minor distraction of a task didn’t remove that, but it helped get his mind off it.

Soon after though, he got his wish, as their commanding officer had joined them in the brig. He didn’t approach the forcefield again, but simply watched and reached out with his senses to get a read on this Commander Wenn Cinn. He read everything from him as honest and blunt, something Elro resonated with. He greatly appreciated the man’s offer to join their wounded in Sickbay, under guard or not.

The holo-recording however, that did make him walk closer to the force field, to better see the recording in question that was near the front of their cell. Watching the woman snap her own finger without any kind of response almost made him cringe it was so unnatural, and that voice? The whole thing made him shiver a little. Whether that was real or not, it was creepy for sure. He walked near Ducote, his voice low. “He certainly believes what he’s saying and that this is evidence of their cause.” He looked back to the Bajoran commander and made his voice more audible for everyone. “He was there. I could, with his permission, witness his own memory of the event and see if the recording is false or not.”

Before waiting for anyone’s response, he also added, “I would also, with your permission, Commander, like to take him up on his offer to go to their Sickbay. I would feel much better checking on our crew's condition in person.” He kept his focus on Ducote and reached out telepathically, doing something he’d never done knowing the man’s aversion to it, but knowing the importance, establishing a connection between himself and Ducote. {I can also report on what I see and keep in contact with you and the others, maybe find us some leverage, or at least some more information.}

[ Ens. Krystal "Meony" Tancredi (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Krystal_Tancredi,_callsign_%22Meony%22) | Fighter Assault Bay Lockers | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Multificionado & @Doc M.
[Show/Hide]“Chicken brand fucking spaghetti sauce!” said Meony, “An' Ah thought Ah had a messed up lahf.” the redhead marvelled at the fact that the other pilot was even here at all. She had been cleaved through the side, her head barely sliced, and her back turned into a scratching post, but she doubted she'd survive her throat being slashed. Anything else she had to say was interrupted by the arrival and excited exclamation of one Tessa May Lance, who had launched herself at Evelyn.

Once they were caught up, she joined in with Tessa to finish explaining their account of the Niger incident, and the short-haired woman was off, with Meony following up with, “Any tahm, sugah! Ya send Ravon mah love now, y'hear?”

Once the Scottish woman was gone, Meony turned her attentions on Tessa, “Ah guess it's great t' finally have a pilot comin' back for a change, raht? 'stead of losin' one. What're ya doin' 'ere anyway? Got sent away fer bad behavior?”

She looked Tessa up and down then shook her head, “Ya really don' strahk me as th' type to pull a Meony on smartfucks lahk Ravon, pardon if Ah'm mistaken...”

She remembered pulling her in with her fighter's tractor beam during the escape from that big-ass ship, so it was good to see the woman more or less in one piece. But the burning question in her head now was why she was here at all, since everyone was all hands on deck at the moment with the Runabout they just hauled in.

[ Tessa May Lance, callsign:  Goldeneye (http://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Tessa_May_Lance,_callsign_%22Goldeneye%22) | Fighter Assault Bay Lockers | Vector 02 | Deck 16 | USS Theurgy] Attn:  @Triage

Even though Tessa hadn't really taken the time to get to know the new pilots from the Orcus, or the Resolve, Ensign Krystal Tancredi, callsign ‘Meony’ didn’t hold it against her.

"Ah guess it's great t' finally have a pilot comin' back for a change, raht? 'stead of losin' one. What're ya doin' 'ere anyway? Got sent away fer bad behavior?"

“Oh uh, it turns out they didn’t need me,” Tessa blushed as she recalled how much Tali’s comments stung.  The original Lone Wolves had seen her discipline and resolve get whittled away bit by bit but not all of the pack’s newer members were willing to carry her.

"Ya really don' strahk me as th' type to pull a Meony on smartfucks lahk Ravon, pardon if Ah'm mistaken..."

“Oh um, I’m not it’s just that I’m back from a long mission and I’d just get in the way,” Tessa burbled before she realized that Meony wasn’t searching the runabout either.  From the sounds of things, Krystal Tancredi was considered just as big a screw-up as Tessa Lance.   But there was no point comparing mistakes with the other pilot.  That was something that could wait until they were getting inebriated in the Spearhead Lounge or Below Decks, when they were both too drunk for their foul-ups to sting.  “So um, that runabout, where do you think it’s from?  Any ideas who our visitors are?” she asked in an attempt to change the subject.

[ Ens. Krystal "Meony" Tancredi (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Krystal_Tancredi,_callsign_%22Meony%22) | Fighter Assault Bay Lockers | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Doc M.
[Show/Hide]Meony had the feeling Tessa wasn't entirely the most confident or social of pilots, which was saying something considering Meony's deceptively friendly nature. Still, taking into account the amount of danger the crew here seemed to always face, it was a testament to the grey-eyed woman that she was still here. She idly wondered how the callsign Goldeneye was coined for her. She didn't even see flecks of gold in her eyes, at all. Well, not that she could explain the meaningless name of Meony, so what the hell.

But what she said had the redhead baffled, “Didn't needja? They need everybodeh! 'cept yours truly, Ah guess...”

She would've gone on, but it was clear that Tessa was uncomfortable, so she shrugged it off and went along with the change of topic, “Didn'tcha hear?” said Meony casually, “Word is, them Runabout pukes were fresh from a faht with th' Borg. Ah teenk, them's from anotha ship...uh, En-dew-ranse? Somethin' lahk dat. Ah'm sure they's good people, but Ah'm a li'l pissed at 'em. They trahd t' frah us with full impulse inside th' bay. Assholes. Ya didn't board it?”

[ Lt Cmdr Vael Kaeris | Temporary Holding Cell | Deck 7 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy  ] Attn: @trevorvw  @Top Hat @Mathis @Auctor Lucan @CanadianVet @patches @chXinya  

Vael watched the video impassively wondering exactly what was at play.  In this day and age, did renegades expect others to take them at their word by showing a video presentation?  The Commander was quick to call the video what it was -- easily replicated.  They could have dropped them in a holographic representation of the interrogation, such as it was, and had just as convincing a display.  Without systems to cross confirm the authenticity of the broadcast, it was if the bajoran commander had asked them to gather close around the fire to hear of the long gone days of the Prophets and Pah Wraiths.  Of course, those, at least, were verifiably real, if misunderstood and overly deified.

More importantly, they were detectable, whether in their Celestial Temple, in a cave, or in a human body.  They were quantifiable, locatable, their effects known, if not the full extent of their abilities.  What's more, it was a simple matter to drive them out of an unwilling host.  Station reports from Deep Space 9 were clear on that fact.  And here they presented some transdimensional parasite that could somehow infect a humanoid host and co-opt its mind and body to whatever nefarious deeds it desired.  And in this case, that was what?  The entire destruction of the universe?  Again, the commander had the right of it... if there was any cause to twirl one's mustache, that would one.  Thankfully, he'd had the opportunity to study some older Earth media files, otherwise he might well have misunderstood that reference.

Whomever their CMO or CSO was, he had to expect that they were simply unwilling or unqualified to do the necessary tests to substantiate the existence of these parasites.  That was the nature of a parasite.  As minor as it may be, they left a mark.  It was physically impossible to do otherwise.  And if these creature were real, who was to say they had not already compromised the majority, if not the entirety, of this vessel and her crew?  Were they even addressing a bajoran?  For that matter, what were they doing to remainder of their own injured.  It would be a perfect opportunity to infect them -- a worry he cast in the direction of the Lt. Kobol  since he'd been afforded an opportunity to see to them personally.

At last, Vael stepped away from the wall.  "You do understand our reticence to accept your allegations at face value.  Your own captain sent forth a broadcast declaring quite a different agenda, and just because you have us incarcerated, you ask us to assume what you show us is correct and what was broadcast across the quadrants was false."  He gave a faintly sour expression to the bajoran before looking towards his own commander.  "Parasites cannot fundamentally impact a host form as you've presented without some trace.  It is biologically impossible.  Even if the parasite leaves no wake of its own, an unwilling host would demonstrate signs of resistance, even if only immunological."  He leveled his gaze at the bajoran.  "You've tested for such responses, I assume?  Who was responsible for compiling that data?  Where are their records and reports?  Who is your Chief Medical Officer?"

[Lt. Commander Wenn Cinn | Security Center | Deck 7 | Vector 2| USS Theurgy]

Cinn wasn’t sure what kind of a reaction he would get by just barging into the holding cells and showing a video after a quick introduction, but this wasn’t quite what he’d hoped for.  If these survivors from the Endeavour were this dismissive of anything he’d say then the propaganda thrown out by the infected Admiralty ran deeper than they thought.  Then the loudmouth man “in charge” had to go an denigrate Captain Ives.  The Bajoran’s jaw tensed, biting back the quick retort but he could feel a vein bulging in his forehead from the effort.  This gave another officer, one with shaggy black hair time to pipe up while a third whispered something in the Commander’s ear.

“Luckily, my deputy did develop a method to detect them, but it’s a bit invasive.  I’m sure we could arrange a demonstration if you insist, but I hope you have a high tolerance for pain.”  Cinn glowered at the shaggy one, daring him to say something snappy.  Mulling his options for a moment, he realized there was only one real way to get these self-righteous, sanctimonious veruls to understand just what they were up against.  Looking over to PO Taer, “Summon two others, we’re going for a short walk.”

While his officer did so, Cinn tapped the forcefield controls.  “Commander Ducote, you and your fellow ranking officers will follow me to the main Brig, there’s someone there you need to meet.”  He held off on the final command until Taer returned with two additional guards.  “It’s just down the hallway, I suggest not trying to escape, thanks to our encounter with two new races who are quite hostile everyone around here is a little jumpy.”  Pressing his thumb to the plate, the forcefield snapped off, a triple-beep sounding the temporary shutdown alarm.  As soon as the visitors had stepped through Cinn let go of the control, restoring the field.  Extending his arm in invitation, “Follow me gentlemen.”

Walking next to Commander Ducote, Cinn led the small troupe straight to the main brig, quickly overriding the computer’s warning about “unauthorized personnel”.  “After you see this  you’ll know that you didn’t see a fak..” The sight inside the cell brought Cinn up short, cutting off the rest of his prideful tease.  “Damnit, what happened?” he ordered, going straight for Amelia, motioning at Eliska to watch Ducote’s gang.

Getting a quick recap, Cinn was only slightly buoyed by the news that “Nicander” was still alive, just unconscious.  Normally someone so wounded wouldn’t even rate that high so there was still some proof of the parasites that didn’t require shooting anyone.  Still, it would’ve been better if Ducote and company could’ve spoken to it themselves.  “Computer, play back cell A log, last 20 minutes.”  Turning back to the new visitors, “This was taken moments before your arrival, and when it’s done you’ll be allowed to examine the prisoner.  I’ll have tricorders brought from your runabout.”

[ PO2 Eliska Bremmer | Brig | Security Center | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy] @Auctor Lucan @Nolan @chXinya @Doc M. @patches @steelphoenix @Mathis @Top Hat

Bremmer wasn't usually one for letting nerves get to her, and they really hadn't.  At least not all the way.  But she had spoken out of turn.  After all, she had been picked for this detail just to be the hired muscle.  But if all he wanted was a gun hand in the room, there were plenty he could have picked from.  No, he had wanted more than just someone who could kick ass and take names... and she meant to provide just that. 

But when your boss and acting captain tells one to shut up, one does just that. 

And it didn't help at all when Nicander, or the parasite or whatever it was started talking again.  It was a good thing Bremmer's helmet was on and the visor was closed and set to be opaque from the outside.  Because she was terrified.  Oh, she had been scared during the Dominion War.  She'd experienced the stuff on Resolve that still gave her nightmares.  She had nearly soiled herself when she was convinced she was about to become spider food.  But compared to that thing behind the forcefield?  That was nothing.  It was small stuff, the kids' Halloween party.  That thing in there was the real horror.  Sure, she'd seen the footage from the Acreth woman and that was a right horror show in its own right.  But this was real.  It was right in her face.  And the rifle in her hand, a familiar weight and balance she could fire with surgical accuracy even under stress, suddenly felt inadequate.  She wanted that thing gone for good.

And just as it collapsed, that was when the boss and some strangers who looked like as though they'd just gone through the wringer were led in, and a quick gesture from Wenn Cinn told Bremmer all she needed to know: she was to watch them.  And it was her turn to communicate with some quick hand movements and she repositioned herself where they could see her, and where she could see them.  So they were indeed detainees, but from where?  That was something she'd have to ask Kino later... 

But she did give them a display of her own.  She let her rifle drop so it would hang in front of her from her sling, and just as the strap grew taut she already had her hand on her pistol, which she drew in a smooth transition and without looking at it her left hand came up to reset the power level, from lethal the stun, should it be needed.  Of course, the sealed exosuit might be enough to give them pause if they had any bright ideas, but crisp and smooth gun-handling also carried a message of its own.  And there, she waited.

[ PO2 Kino Taer | Temporary Holding Cell | Security Centre | Deck 7 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ]

Kino sighed in mild frustration as her olive branch was pushed aside by the Betazoid hybrid, who just repeated the same identifying information and then warned the others to not take her words at face value. She could appreciate his caution, of course. Anyone who knew her would say Kino would do the same, just not quite as calmly or as seemingly detached from the situation.

The frustration only mounted when Commander Cinn burst in and relegated her to playing maidservant to the prisoners while he unceremoniously took charge. That, at least, she had learned to expect from him but it didn’t rankle all that much less than the first time. I hate brig duty. She stood aside impassively as he spoke to their “guests”. The recording came as a total surprise to the Petty Officer and it showed. Had they finally secured proof of the parasites?

The woman in the recording was one that she didn’t recognize. She also recognized only some of the voices that spoke to the captive woman, which indicated this happened after one of the mergers Kino had been briefly told about. The scene was uncomfortable for her to watch in the sense that she should have been there to tackle this threat and in seeing how little the parasite clearly cared for its host. Despite the superficial similarities between Kino’s own anarchist beliefs and the parasite’s chaos philosophy, she could somehow sense through the recording the malice that the creature inside the body of Ensign Acreth bore towards the rest. She shivered at the last few seconds of the recording.

Surely, this will show them the seriousness of our cause.

And Ducote shat all over it. Again. The doctor offered to invade Cinn’s mind to view the memory, which provoked narrowed eyes from Kino and a guarded pose to include her hand on her pistol. Rather than being thankful they were rescued and being the least bit cooperative, the Starfleet officers were treating the Theurgy crew as if they were liars and cattle to the whims of an AI and Captain Ives. Maybe it was the Trill’s own upbringing that stressed ethics and honesty or maybe it was the fact that Kino herself and many others on the ship had directly risked (and lost) lives and limbs upholding the ideals of Starfleet and the Federation whom they served.

The man wants to invoke Occam’s Razor, eh?

Kino had been in stasis during the recent assault on Starbase 84 for the simulcast. She had asked for and gotten some information about what happened during it, but the details were still lacking. There were definitely plans to fill out the gaps in her knowledge. Apparently, the message that was actually sent out was entirely void of the actual message that was put together, meaning that lives were lost for no good reason. That was an entirely separate situation that frustrated Taer when she had learned of that. The Dominion War showed her the human cost of wasted efforts at the direction of incompetent officers or incomplete information and now, this. Did the rest of Starfleet have so little faith in that the Theurgy was at least trying to do the right thing or did they fall so completely to the tune of the Federation News Network?

"Summon two others, we're going for a short walk." Commander Cinn ordered to Kino.

“Aye, sir.” She replied before moving quickly to exit the temporary holding cell to the Centre. The Trill returned with two male crewmen in Security colors, one Bolian and the other human, each armed similarly with a Type II phaser pistol. They took up positions with the human at the rear and the Bolian staying on the side closest to the door. Kino herself kept close to Ducote and Kai in a way that gave her easy watch and ability to intercept either man.  Hopefully, neither of them would get any ideas but this entire encounter had already tested several assumptions. She intended for there to be no chance that any attempts made to resist, escape, or take up arms by their “guests” would succeed.

[Brig | Security Centre | Deck 7 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ]

Once they crossed the hall and entered the brig, Kino ordered the two crewmen to take up positions at the inside door to the brig proper both as a prevention measure and because the brig itself was already crowded. She was relieved to see that Eliska was still there with the other two in exosuits. It didn’t take long for the pair and Cinn to nonverbally coordinate further positioning for the now seven Security personnel in the room. Kino herself was now positioned in between the detainees and the door, but in a way that she could still somewhat see inside the cell that the rest were crowding around.

Eliska’s display of her control of her firearms brought a smile to Kino’s face momentarily. The other woman might have been very much by the book normally, but Kino enjoyed the little moments when she showed off a bit of flair. It gave people a peek into the Eliska that Kino knew. The Trill casually drew her own pistol as she settled into place, holding it safe in front of her. Her attention wasn’t on the cell or recording or Eliska, all of which she filed away for future analysis, but on the detainees. How would they respond to this further piece of evidence?

[ Tessa May Lance, callsign:  Goldeneye (http://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Tessa_May_Lance,_callsign_%22Goldeneye%22) | Fighter Assault Bay Lockers | Vector 02 | Deck 16 | USS Theurgy] Attn:  @Triage

"Didn'tcha hear?   Word is, them Runabout pukes were fresh from a faht with th' Borg. Ah teenk, them's from anotha ship...uh, En-dew-ranse? Somethin' lahk dat. Ah'm sure they's good people, but Ah'm a li'l pissed at 'em. They trahd t' frah us with full impulse inside th' bay. Assholes. Ya didn't board it?"

“The Borg?” Tessa repeated in disbelief.  “Really?  How can this be?  Talk about going from bad to worse!  First we’re being infiltrated by creatures that wear our bodies like exosuits and now we’re going to be eaten alive by a bunch of machine people!  And then we get attacked by the Savi as well?  This is crazy!  It doesn’t make sense!  Why are they all ganging up on us for?  What did we do to them?  What do we have that is so important?  It isn’t fair!”

As she went on, Tessa’s high pitched, chirpy voice became even more high pitched, even shrill.  Tears formed in her topaz yellow eyes and she started trembling.  Soon she was running her fingers through her hair and crouching as her demeanor became more emotional.  

“I mean, we’ve got this Prime Directive that stops us from interfering with other species who don’t want us to!  Can’t they extend the same courtesy to us?  It’s not like we’ve been a bunch of raiders and conquers like the Klingons and Romulans!  Ever since we discovered warp drive we’ve really cleaned ourselves up!  We don’t deserve this!  How can the Federation continue to exist if it’s being eaten alive from within and without?  I thought that Morali guy was supposed to be from the future!  How can we even have a future if everybody who’s immune to phasers gangs up on us?  It’s not fair!”

Soon Tessa was curled up in a ball on the floor, rocking on her haunches and crying into her arms.  It was hardly the devil may care attitude of a stereotypical fighter pilot.

[ Cmdr Ranaan Ducote | Security Centre | Deck 7 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @patches @CanadianVet @chXinya @steelphoenix @Mathis @Doc M. @trevorvw @Nolan @Auctor Lucan 

At first, the Bajoran seemed surprised that they hadn't just bought it. But even with the best will in the universe, showing a recording of people none of them had met along with some wild assertions - especially from this crew - was never going to gain much traction. He was reminded just who had the balance of force in this particular scenario, though, when the jump in the dark alien's blood pressure nearly sent Ducote's own soaring in sympathy. Jabbing at the boss wasn't appreciated. I'm not sure how surprised I am that he's still held in regard here, though.

As for 'invasive detection methods', the Brazilian was wondering whether he should take that as a threat or not.

Ranaan elected to stay silent rather than babble with uncertainty, and hesitated when the forcefield came down. Despite this being what he'd asked for mere moments before, he hadn't expected such a ready acquiescence. Not that 'escape from a secured compartment surrounded by armed pseudo-Maquis while armed with nothing sharper than creative insults' was a particularly thrilling prospect, either..

"Commander Ducote, you and your fellow ranking officers will follow me to the main brig; there's someone there you need to meet."

His head tilted slightly at that, the ghost of a bemused smile creasing his features. Not that the three pips on Wenn's collar really meant anything to anyone outside this hull, but one of them was hollow - Ducote would have outranked the man by a solid layer of responsibility, and it had been a long time since he'd heard an order phrased as such. Alas, Wenn And Friends still held the monopoly on the authority of force; he had little choice but to play along. As Taer returned with two more guards, the hybrid stepped out, waving his senior staff to follow and ignoring the sting as the congealing scabs on his knuckles pulled away from the fabric of his uniform. The civilians could wait behind... he supposed they were in no more danger inside the force field than out of it.

"Follow me, gentlemen."

"Oh, lead right on, Boss," he responded, still not quite deigning to use any proper honorifics. These people were still defectors, and he didn't care what ranks they used to hold. The crew of the Theurgy had surrendered any claims to them months ago. He spent a giddy moment (though just about managed to avoid giggling to himself) imagining trying to claim command of the ship as the ranking officer present. Somehow, he didn't think it would go down well.

I don't even have a combadge. Somehow, his brain threw this up as the most pressing obstacle. How could he captain a ship without a combadge?

Before he could descend completely into an inappropriate hysteria, he came into range of the gaggle of people in the brig's common area. That sobered him nicely; they were variously fearful, repulsed, and wary. None of that stopped the exosuited woman from executing a parade-perfect weapon switch, though. The chirp from her type-II he recognised as a down-setting, which rather begged the question of how high it had been tuned in the first place.

"After you see this, you'll know that you didn't see a fak-" the bubbling gloat turned to shock in an instant. Following the man's gaze, Ducote saw (most of) a humanoid face-down on the deck of the cell. He came to a halt as soon as he saw it, holding out a hand to stop his officers as well. He scowled as a fresh suspicion surged to the surface.

Wenn called up a recording of the events just prior to his return to the brig proper. Ducote would have rolled his eyes but for the fact that every face in it was present in the room, and every single one of them believed it to be a true retelling. The chances that Wenn and Taer were capable of defeating a pair of at-least-empathic Betazoids, one of whom was full-blooded and the other who had received extensive training in using his talents in interrogation, were just about credible. That an entire roomful could be found and deployed against them in a few minutes, without a single chink in the armour, was finally starting to convince Ducote that there was at least a kernel of truth in what they were trying to tell him.

Ducote split his attention between the recorded conversation, the people around him.. and the unmoving prone form in the cell. ~Elro~, he projected with some effort at his CMO, along with an unconscious stab of guilt for breaching etiquette around 'mundanes', even here, ~Is it me, or is that guy still alive?~ Looking at him, he shouldn't be. A high-setting phaser blast may well cauterise most of a wound (or at least the parts of it that weren't produced by blast effects) but shock should still have finished him long ago. And per this recording, he'd been down half an arm and a chunk of torso for at least as long as he'd been in the cell.

"Kobol , Vael; scan that man," he ordered, indicating the collapsed Nicander.

Nicander - the very same person from the recording in the holding area - was a host as well. Probably the whole time he'd been aboard. But the parasite's assertions about its own nature were changing the frown on his face from suspicious to thoughtful. He pinched his lower lip between a thumb and forefinger, other hand holding his elbow, and twisting his lip around in a way that Blue had always told him made him look hilariously stupid. He would tell her, in turn, that she stuck her tongue out when she was concentrating on a project in an entirely adorable fashion and he had caught her more than once having to wipe the spittle from the corner of her mouth. Usually, that would then result in some form of cushion being thrown at him, which he would return, and then neither of them would get much work done at all in their down time. The normally-happy memory brought him nothing but hurt.

He swallowed the sudden sour taste in his mouth, and cleared his throat, gesticulating with small movements of his hand in front of his face after he released his lip. "Say for a minute that all you have said is true... and that the good Doctor here was also telling you the truth. There are lots of parasites puppeteering the Federation right now, and they all share a... oh, I don't know. A consciousness? A gestalt? Assuming they do, how haven't they tracked you down yet? Presumably, there must be at least one in the task force we sent after you."

Ranaan could scarcely believe the words out of his mouth, cleaving close to support as they were. But he didn't really know what to do, either. He was operating on the very last fumes in his tank, he had lost almost his entire crew only days ago, there was a real threat of a new Borg incursion into Federation space, and now apparently there was a species of infiltrators that made the Dominion's Founders look amateurish.

It was too much. He seemed to shrink on the spot as he visibly sagged, radiating exhaustion. Time to narrow his focus; he had a tendency to try and fix everything at once and ran a greater risk of just making things worse (one of the things his therapist said with which he actually agreed). He wasn't sure what any of his crew could do here, beyond prop up these people's self-esteem, and he wasn't quite ready to permit them the validation.

One thing at a time, then. He took a deep breath, almost as a way to reset his posture and appeared to re-inflate, and looked back to Wenn. This time, he was almost devoid of the belligerence inherent to his demeanour up to now. "While we're out, I'd very much like to check on my people in your sickbay."

“Tessa May Lance, Ah think Ah got that raht. A.K.A. Golden-ah. She ain't lahk most others. Dunno much about 'er, 'cept for wah she's called Golden-ah. But y'know what? Ah hope of alla us, she makes it t'safety, and 'ave a better lahf than Ah'll ever hope t' have.”

[ Ens. Krystal "Meony" Tancredi (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Krystal_Tancredi,_callsign_%22Meony%22) | Fighter Assault Bay Lockers | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Doc M.
[Show/Hide]“Wh-” Meony was not able to get much else out over Tessa's protests and complaints. But she tried no further, when she saw the look in the other woman's eyes. Meony was the last person to admit possessing empathy, or understanding anything in relation to social life, but when she crouched and all but had a meltdown in front of the most douchebag of all female Resolve crew survivors (well that wasn't counting Michal Silika, if that fucktard was still alive), and the redhead felt like a jackass in the middle of a stormy ocean, carrying about ten tons of rocks.

“......” When she finished, Tessa was just rocking back and forth, curled up like a ball. She's all 'bout had it. thought Meony, and for a split second, she thought about Jimmy, missing, out there, apart from her. Leon, somewhere else. Suq, Sinead, A'vura, Vivian, F'rell, where was everyone? Were they all right? She almost joined Tessa on the ground in a similar state, but she steeled herself. Seeing this woman losing it, somehow gave Meony strength, if not for herself, then for everyone else. Someone needed to hold it together. Hold it for those who still had hope, it was the least she could do. It was what Tristan would've wanted her to do.

With a soft sigh, she was beside Tessa, her flight armour stripped off, leaving her in little else but the protective jumpsuit that she wore under the armour, and she placed an arm around the amber-eyed woman, offering what comfort that she could, stroking her head gently. Tessa kept her hair short, as opposed to Meony whose hair length was almost defying regulation standards, though she always found a way to make it work. “Hey...” said Meony, her voice soft, and surprisingly gentle, “...yeah, it ain't fair. Lahf seldom ever is, ain't it?”

She rested her palm on the shoulder on the other side, sort of pulling Tessa into a sideways hug. As far as she was concerned, Meony sucked ass at this. She wasn't used to being the one to offer comfort and reassurance. “But hon? You're still 'ere. Y'know what dat means? They ganged up on us, they trahd t'kill us, trahd t' destroy us. But we're still fucking here!”

She reached up with her arm slung over to turn Tessa's head, gently, to look right at her. Golden eyes to hazel brown, “So yeah, ya go ahead an' crah it out. It's good every once inna while. But nevah ferget, sugah. Lahf ain't fair, an' despaht dat? Ye're still 'ere, 'cause you're better, stronger, braver'n ya even know. So crah it all out. Then ya take lahf bah th' balls, and tell it t' go fuck itself.”

She shrugged, looking silly (she couldn't believe the words coming out of her mouth), and said, “Then ya come'n' 'elp us kick Borg ass and whatever other ass dat trahs t' mess with us. Deal?”

[ Dr Amelya Rez | Brig | Security Center | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @patches  @CanadianVet  @chXinya  @steelphoenix  @Mathis  @Doc M.  @trevorvw  @Top Hat  @Auctor Lucan  

Awaiting the undoubtedly talks of grandeur of the parasite, Amelya waited and looked into what once was Lucan's eyes. it didn't take long before it started to speak once more yet subtext meant everything here. It talked and talked, lashing out with promises of death and demise, yet in fact it seemed to be giving away hints to the parasites and more. Amelya looked amused at Nicander's vessel as she crossed her arms just under her bosom. It mentioned the great attractor and Amelya frowned slightly at the reference of it whilst Simon Tovarek shifted behind her. Seemingly the XO of vector 02 wanted to speak up, yet stopped himself before being able to do so as he wanted to see if the parasite would spill more.

At the second volley of unfearing death an interesting development took place. It spooked Amelya for a second as she took a step back as the sound ran through skin and bone. Chills running down her body before she stepped forward, closer to the force field. She was now inches away from the cell as she studied Nicander as he fell on his side, Rez followed the movements meticulously as she could hear the desperate cry for help, as hard as it was to understand under the gurgle of blood, excrement and anything else filling up the ragged state of his body. It was a miracle he managed to bring out this much before he passed out. Amelya remained squatted as she looked at the unconscious form, wondering if the parasite was really dormant or waiting to strike at a willing person reaching out to help.

The Vulcan voice of Maya broke the deafening silence of Nicander or the parasite's show and Amelya stood back up as she looked over to her fellow medical colleague. She let her speak and looked at Tovarek who was the highest in command as of now. She aided her fellow medical officer by confirming "I indeed think that if we mend Nicander and grant him a bit more control as it were over the parasite, we might find ourselves to have an invaluable source of information. If it turns out that the parasite inside him is still too strong, we can still neutralize it and lock it up somewhere safer I imagine." she added to it as she looked for confirmation to the XO.

Before Tovarek could even begin to formulate a reply Wenn Cinn entered the brig once more, yet this time in company. Amelya turned her entire body to face the newcomers and she let her eyes move over them before she looked at Cinn as he asked what had happened. "It would appear that Nicander is still 'alive' in there. He tried to reach out, yet by doing so I imagine he must've used up all the reserves the body had so far to remain conscious. With your permission, Sir... I'd like to perform reconstructive surgery on him. Like Maya stated before, this might be our break as Nicander's physiology apparently makes him somewhat immune for a complete take over by the parasite. If we can manage to empower him enough we might have ourselves a live parasite yet bound by Nicander, not to mention an entire pool of information about them. Of course it will have it's risks... But one has to bargain to be rewarded. Don't you agree?"  she asked as she brought Cinn up to speed before coming to a stop in front of him. She looked the Bajoran in the eyes as she stood before him. She couldn't really explain it yet she felt some sort of attraction towards him before she got a flash memory from Edena and the now acting captain prior to the starbase mission. She managed to hide the surprise on her face, yet her eyes would clearly let on that she knew about it.

Whilst she waited for either approval or disapproval from Cinn to carry on with her plan, she looked at Ducote as the man seemed to be the highest ranking officer in the room. Seemingly as she figured he probably was the man who had his merry bunch beamed into the brig. The reason why Wenn Cinn had to leave the scene with Nicander. The man however seemed worn, tired and probably at the brink of exhaustion. Still it was impressive to see how the man managed to keep his composure. His request to see his people who were transferred to sickbay made Amelya's posture straighten up as she looked at Cinn "Captain, if you allow it. I'll show the way for the commander here and his men to Sickbay. I believe they all might profit from a medical check up themselves." she said softly to the dark skinned man in front of her. Just loud enough for the others to catch on to it, yet still delivered discreetly.

[ Lt Simon Tovarek | Brig | Security Center | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ]

Whilst the show went on Tovarek's eyes remained resting on Nicander's brittle body. The only moment he looked away from it was when Ducote and his fellow officers entered the brig. A frown now manifesting itself on the forehead of the XO as he moved over to stand besides Cinn now. He would inform the captain later about the mention of the great attractor. he had heard about the phenomenon before during his exploration mission years. It was a gravitational anomaly at the center of the local Laniakea Supercluster. Last he had read up upon the subject he had learned that the latest discovery missions lead to believe that the anomaly was consistent of a localized concentration of mass thousands of times more massive than the Milky Way. Of course he'd have to double check on recent studies and reports, yet it was surely food for thought and interesting to hear the parasite spill about it.

The scientist inside Simon would want to know more about it and regardless of the risk and danger in Rez's plan to 'fix' Nicander, the information they could retrieve out of him should they succeed would be unfathomable. Simon reminded himself to advise Rez to plant in a kill switch as it were during the procedure. A sort of fail safe that would quickly deal with the problem known as the parasite. Perhaps charges that would dismember the limbs of Nicander , or a more crude and effective method that would vaporize the man entirely. Of course he imagined the doctor would put up a show of how unethical it would be. A problem Simon was already looking forward to to debate on. Regardless, they already altered the DNA of a crew member entirely to suit their mission parameters, this surely wouldn't be that much of a difference. Would it?

[ Ens. Vincent "Fury" Ferris (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Tactical_Conn_NPCs#Ens._Vinnie_Ferris.2C_callsign_.22Fury.22) | Fighter Assault Bay | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Even Angels Cry
[Show/Hide]Vinnie "Fury" Ferris had been in the impromptu TacCONN firing squad, right next to the others, and cursed under his breath when the crew of the Niger had been uncooperative. He had just returned from a patrol, so he was dressed in his repaired exosuit - only having left he helmet behind. So with his Type III assault rifle aimed at the Runabout, he had held his breath a bit... until one of the Theurgy's deck crew had used the tractor beam to fry it. It had almost looked comical, seeing the sparks, the way the nav lights flickered out, and the sound of the engines powering down. He had actually chuckled a bit, glancing towards his new cockpit-mate.

Alessia "Angel" Garcia, another White Wolf just like him, who had lost er RIO just he he'd lost Devyrie in the battle against 'the Axe'. The monicker for the Savi Precept-class ship had kind of stuck, but Fury had yet to come up with a good name for the damn alien fighters that had picked his and Dev's Valravn apart. He had barely managed to use the ETS in time to beam back unto the Theurgy, ending up in one of the transporter rooms with his exosuit scorched and smoking.

"Sure thing, Wolf Leader." The SCO ordered them to move in once the crew of the Runabout had been beamed to the Brig, and Fury followed orders, joining Razor and the rest whilst stepping aboard the shuttle, starting to look for things. The Borg? Really?

What was next? The Tholians? The Tzenkethi?

Looking at Angel, he couldn’t help but asking, since they had a common interest in the wellbeing of the lost Wolves. “You think they are all right?” he asked quietly, even though he knew he should be asking ‘Do you think they are still alive?’

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[ CPO Liam Herrold (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Liam_Herrold) | Fighter Assault Bay | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Nolan @Blue Zephyr
[Show/Hide]After Chief Covington gave the go ahead, Liam accompanied Eun Sae Ji on Thomas Ravon's order. He was not too optimistic about the chances of survival for the Runabout after the kind of jolt he'd given it, but if it was mission imperative to extract things from its memory banks, he supposed they could give it a try.

"Let's bring a separate power source and hook it up to the computer, see if we can't download whatever is useful to your PADD, Ji. Can you get some spare wiring in case we need it?" he asked, giving her a small smile while he walked off to bring a twenty kilo energy pack from one of their trolleys, carrying it on its hip while they joined the fighter pilots aboard the Runabout. He nodded quietly to them as he and Ji made their way to the cockpit in the fore of the craft, where he set the energy pack down and started to calibrate the output.

"Commander," he said, glancing towards the SCO after he'd opened an access panel below the pilot's controls, reaching in to feel the temperature with his bare hand. "I may have fried a lot of the circuitry, so Chief Ji and I need to get the power into the console. Means we need a few minutes to get this sorted. I'll let you know when we are done. Hopefully, they kept notes and such on PADDs in the aft compartment?"

Once he was alone with Ji, he caught her eye while they worked. He glanced out of the room before giving her a cheepish smile. "I may have gotten us unto trouble, frying this fish, but for what it's worth... I really like watching you work, so I think it was worth it."

It was not often he got to flirt with Ji on duty, so he welcomed the opportunity.

[ Maya (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Dr._Maya) | Brig | Security Center | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @patches @CanadianVet @chXinya @steelphoenix @Mathis @Doc M. @trevorvw @Nolan @Auctor Lucan @Top Hat

Maya’s large hazel eyes narrowed at the sight of the newcomers and her left eyebrow rose a few millimeters.  There were two new visitors that the little Vulcan didn’t recognize and one officer that she hadn’t realized was onboard.  Considering the isolation from her recent incarceration, it was likely that these were part of the new personnel from the Resolve that Maya hadn’t met yet.  From the conversation they were having with Commander Cinn and Doctor Rez, it seemed as if a policy of placing new arrivals in stasis so that they might be indoctrinated a few at a time was now in effect.  They were still in the process of being informed just what the threat from within Starfleet was and why the Theurgy had fled in the first place.  It was possible that trust had not been established yet.  That might explain why the newcomers weren’t wearing combages.  Were they currently classified as unwilling guests?   

Maya recognized one of them, but the other two were strangers.  Lieutenant Elro Kobol  had been a year ahead of her when they both attended Starfleet Academy and studied medicine at Starfleet Medical.  Despite being born on Earth, Doctor Kobol  was a full blooded Betazoid, a natural telepath and as honest as the length of a diurnal cycle.  Curious, Maya concentrated on lowering the psychic barriers she had erected to prevent unwanted telepathic contact in case Doctor Kobol  decided to initiate a private conversation with her. 
 
 

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[ Tessa May Lance, callsign:  Goldeneye (http://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Tessa_May_Lance,_callsign_%22Goldeneye%22) | Fighter Assault Bay Lockers | Vector 02 | Deck 16 | USS Theurgy] Attn:  @Triage

"Hey... yeah, it ain't fair. Lahf seldom ever is, ain't it?  But hon? You're still 'ere. Y'know what dat means? They ganged up on us, they trahd t'kill us, trahd t' destroy us. But we're still fucking here!  So yeah, ya go ahead an' crah it out. It's good every once inna while. But nevah ferget, sugah. Lahf ain't fair, an' despaht dat? Ye're still 'ere, 'cause you're better, stronger, braver'n ya even know. So crah it all out. Then ya take lahf bah th' balls, and tell it t' go fuck itself.  Then ya come'n' 'elp us kick Borg ass and whatever other ass dat trahs t' mess with us. Deal?"

This was so humiliating.  The last thing Tessa wanted was for her the new squadron to know how much Starfleet’s betrayal had killed her ‘death or glory’ spirit and how much her old packmates like Tom, Evelyn, Nate had been carrying her like the dead weight she was.  And now Nate was missing, taken by the Savi…

“Th-thanks M-meony… Tessa sniffed as she wiped her nose with the back of her hand in a most unladylike fashion.  “I-I just wish I know why everybody was picking on us.  It’s got to have something to do with Sarresh Morali, that guy from the future the Devoted were crazy about.  There must be something about the future that has all of these bad guys picking on us all at once.  Excuse me.”

She paused to extract a small light grey device the size of a tube of lipstick from a hidden pocket.  She placed it in one nostril and a quiet electronic hum could be heard.  She then placed it in her second nostril and repeated the process.  Afterwards she extracted it and passed it in front of her eyes as the quiet electronic whine continued.  When she was done, her sinuses were clear and the tears were cleaned off her face.  She blinked twice and then her face assumed an expression that her squad mates hadn’t seen for over three months:  an expression of intelligence and determination.

“Wait a second, that’s it!” she declared as she punched the palm of her other hand.  “The Federation must discover a way to counter the Borg nanoprobes and get rid of the parasites that are infesting the heads of Starfleet Command!  It’s the same reason the Calamity came back and attacked us!  Someone has gone back in time to make sure that all of these invasions take place at once!  I’m sure of it!”

[ Lt. JG Evelyn Rawley | Hangar Deck | Fighter Assault Bay | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Nolan @Auctor Lucan and who writes for those in the fighter bay
[Show/Hide]

Rawley wasn’t the most patient woman in the galaxy. Cor, she easily held the Guinness World Record for Impatience. Literally.

After some time waiting, it seemed everybody was so engrossed with the runabout, nobody seemed to notice her. In fact, she was so easily invisible she felt she was living up to her callsign, “Ghost.” Well, time to live up to her callsign a little more. With that, she tapped her badge.

“Razor. I know you’re there, Razor. It’s me. Ghost. And it’s no bloody disembodied voice. No, there’s no ghost on the runabout. It’s The Ghost. I’m sure you know who it is, even if the new lads and lasses in the pack don’t, and if Husker is there, I’m sure he’d know who it is, too.

“In case you’re wondering, I’ve been discharged. I haven’t skived off Sickbay. I’m here because I met Meony and Goldeneye in the lockers, apparently chivvied there. I’m here to help, because if more Wolves keep getting chivvied off, there won’t be any Wolves left to fill in for the lads and lasses in yellow.

“But, before you tell me off, let me in to help, or chivvy me back to the lockers with Meony and Goldeneye, I want to tell you this before anything else, and sod the regulations: I forgive you.

“I never had a chance to forgive you before Satori’s wankers tried to conk us. I understand that you didn’t know what you were doing. Cor, you know ol’ Maya was tending us, and while you told me she was responsible, it turned out she didn’t know what she was doing either. Can you believe that? Some loony mucking with a Vulcan’s mind? Almost feels like a…violation to her own right.” Rawley didn’t want to use the word “rape,” not if there are other Wolves listening in.

“You told me you needed all the officers you needed? Well, here I am. I’m your lass, Razor. Reporting for duty. And I swear, whoever that wanker is, mucking with minds and pulling the strings…he better watch his arse, because I’ll be emptying my ordinance in it.

“Don’t know whether you can see me or not, but I’m out here in the bay,” said Rawley, trying to suppress that teasing tone in her voice. “Evelyn Rawley’s ready for duty…sir.”

Practically a nanosecond later, Razor leapt out of the runabout so fast, he might as well have jumped to warp speed. Rawley gave a smug smile; she can tell Razor was gobsmacked. And he wasn’t the only one. Husker trailed behind him, along with one or two other Wolves, looking out for a curious look. Nonetheless, she expected a barrage of words from Razor, and her folded arms instinctively felt like she was bracing for impact.

[ Lt. Cmdr Thomas Ravon | Niger | Fighter Assault Bay | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Multificionado , @Auctor Lucan , @Havenborn , @Even Angels Cry , @Blue Zephyr

As the pilots cleared out the shuttle, Thomas could hear some ruckus going on in the back of the shuttle. He couldn't quite make up what was going on and only saw a glimpse of Tessa leaving the ship. Before he could call out to her or ask her anything Liam Herrold spoke up. He informed him that it might take a few to get the electronics working again as the valiant effort of frying the ships systems might have overcooked it. "Very well, let me know when I can access the logs." Thomas replied to the impromptu hero from a while ago. He gave a slight nod to Ji before he left the two alone in the cockpit.

In the meantime he overlooked the search in the aft compartments and searched through a few things himself. There wasn't a lot of talking going on and Thomas kept somewhat silent to himself. He felt a chill run down his spine though as if someone was watching him. A similar sensation he had felt on the planetoid when the Reaver holograms had taken him under fire. It was an odd feeling and when he looked back at the front of the ship, nobody was there. He shook his head and looked at the interior of the ship. He wondered how many people had been on board and in what condition they were. Medpacks were spread out across the floor, which only made him expect the worst.

He tapped his combadge to inform the bridge in the meantime "Ravon to bridge. We're still searching the ship. So far it's just a really big mess. Electronics are a bit over fried, yet we're working on a solution for it. I'll inform you when we have something solid. Razor out." he said before he heard his badge chirp itself. He frowned as he didn't expect a reply from the bridge at this point. Suddenly he could hear Rawley's voice, it made his face flush paler as it seemed like he was literally hearing a ghost.

It couldn't be, she was gone. He had carried her himself to the Sickbay and heard the diagnosis from the EMH. For a split second he thought he was delusional, yet the other pilots looked up as well. Which pretty much meant that he wasn't the only one hearing it. His eyes went over to Husker for a moment before he listened to what Rawley was spilling. A slight smirk covered his lips as he should've known better. The woman was theatrical at some point. He was already making his way to the exit of the runabout as he heard the voice grow louder and more natural. The badge eventually fading out as he came in earshot of the lost pilot.

She hadn't even finished her last sentence before Thomas doomed out of the opening and made eye contact with Rawley. His eyes narrowing as if he was making sure he didn't see a mirage. There were a lot of emotions running through him and he didn't know which one to address first. He slowly came closer to Evelyn and stopped about two arm lengths from her as she folded her arms. There was a moment of silence as Thomas contemplated on what to do first, yet eventually he broke loose from his position and simply gave Rawley a tight hug. The embrace lasted longer than he expected and he closed his eyes as he could actually feel her, smell her. She was here, this was real and it was all on display.

"You theatrical piece of shit." he murmured in her ear before he smiled and let go of her. He patted her on the shoulder and rubbed both her arms as he smiled broadly "Thought you were a goner there. Spilling blood all over my clothes..." he teased her before he looked back to the few pilots that had come to take a peek. Chris' face was priceless and he looked back to Rawley as he shook his head "Cleared for duty huh? I hope you're not going to be as much of a pain like you did with Miles?" he said with a more serious tone now "But if you want in on the action, feel free to join us in the ship. We're looking for evidence of any encounter with the Borg." he gestured his hand towards the shuttle and since a very long time he felt a spark of light shining down on him "Move out Rawley." he concluded before he let his eyes rest to the far end of the hangar bay. 

[ Lt. JG Evelyn Rawley | Hangar Deck | Fighter Assault Bay | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Nolan @Auctor Lucan @Havenborn @Even Angels Cry @Blue Zephyr @Triage @Doc M.
[Show/Hide]
"You theatrical piece of shit."

Rawley smiled so widely, she thought she'd stretch her face. That’s the Ravon she knew. With the hug, and the way his hands were afterward, she was so touched, if they weren’t on duty, she’d kiss him on the spot. But she knew better. She learned plenty of lessons the hard way, and mistakes made her all the wiser.

“I hope you're not going to be as much of a pain like you did with Miles?"

She shook her head at that. Razor wasn’t Miles, and she had no intention of being a pain in the arse now that she had forgiven Razor. He needed all the help he could get.

"But if you want in on the action, feel free to join us in the ship. We're looking for evidence of any encounter with the Borg."

She was glad to know she can help, and at Ravon’s order, she hoisted her rifle and made her way inside. “Gladly, Razor,” she responded. “Poor buggers,” she added, looking around at the runabout. She squeezed passed the curious lads and winked as she passed. Once inside, however, her cheery mood evaporated at the sight.

“Poor buggers indeed,” she said aloud. It looked worse on the inside than it did out, and as with the exterior, the more she saw, the worse it looked. It wasn’t due to the fact that all systems were fried. Rawley had seen refugee ships from time to time, but rarely saw the insides of them. To sum things up, in her mind, it looked more like a refugee ship. Well, considering they lost a starship, and if they were running from the Borg, that would make sense. The Borg had left plenty of refugees before. However, proof was required, and the buggers would easily be…intimidated by the Theurgy if they were trying to scarper; they wouldn’t likely talk.

She decided to start looking in the rear of the runabout; there was no point in trying to get anything out of the computers in the front, not when their systems were fried. She’ll likely have better luck in the rear.

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OOC: This is just for Rawley's reactions and her own start of searching the Niger. I'm just going to wait until somebody has found something on the runabout before I post again here.

Alessia "Angel" Garcia (http://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Alessia_Garcia,_callsign_%22Angel%22), Tactical CONN, Lt JG
| Fighter Assault Bay | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @auctor lucan

[Show/Hide]
Alessia looked at Fury as he spoke.  He was hurthng just like she was.  The loss was too new to feel real.  This was the moment when she needed to reassure her commrade and be positive.  But in truth she had no idea what happened to her RIO or her friend.  'They could be dead for all I know.'  The thought terrified her.  She regretted it the instant it enetered her brain, and yet she allowed it to linger in the foreground of her mind. 

Part of her wanted to be blunt with Fury.  She was sure he shared her morbid thoughts; he would understand.  But she couldn't bring herself to vocalize the words, as if speaking them would somehow make them true.  No, she couldnt and wouldn't wish her friends dead.  She had to have faith that they were out there, alive, and surviving.  They all had to hope to see their friends again. It was the only way to deal with such a massive loss.

"I know they're ok.  Sure as I know that we aren't gonna die here today. Sehl and Dev, they're fighters. They'll make it.  But we cant lose faith. We'll find them."   She gave Fury what she hoped was a reassuring smile.  The next words stumbled from her mouth with unexpected gusto as her smile took on a sinister appearance.
 "and we'll make the bastardos who took them pay."

Vengeance and anger.  Two things that never seemes to escape Alessia no matter how much she tried to run from them.  But this time, she knew exactly how to vent them.  When she found the ones who took her friends,  once she was certain Sehl and Dev were safe, she'd unload holy hell upon their kidnappers! Maybe then they would understand what a Latina's rage looked like!

The fire burned inside Alessia.  She was eager to hunt, to kill, to end things.  But there was something in Fury's expression that tempered her rage.  She recognized his hollow stare.  She'd lost her RIO, but he'd lost his pilot.  He wasnt expected to fly a valravn on his own, and with Alessia missing her RIO, the idea made sense.  "Hey Vinnie, maybe we can talk to Ravon and ask about teaming up? At least until we rescue our other halves." 

Alessia admitted to herself that right now wasn't the best time to ask.  Ravon had already benched two pilots and she wouldn't risk being third on the list.  But maybe before their next patrol?  This whole situation was nutty and now if these Endeavour folks were telling the truth, the Borg were once again invading.  The last thing they needed was more enemies!  At least for now, the Niger shuttle was empty and no longer posed a threat.  Alessia moved up with Vinnie, waiting just inside the shuttle for room to enter.  If what she'd just heard was true, it was cramped in there so only a few people could enter at once.

...But that didnt stop Alessia from keeping her rifle trained on the shutttle.  They hadnt been ordered to stand down yet, which meant riffles at the ready on maximum stun.  What a day today was turning out to be!

[Ensign Jaya Thorne (http://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Jaya_Thorne), CONN Officer |
Battle Bridge | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @auctor lucan

 [Show/Hide]
"Shit."

Their ploy had failed. Maybe if she'd moved to a different part of the nebula it would have worked?  But her readings showed this section as the nearest dense spot in this damn nebula. Jaya resisted the urge to kick at her console or stomp on the floor.  She reminded herself that she was an ensign now, a helm officer, and was expected to behave accordingly.   But there was no such expectation placed on her thoughts.

'Motherfuckers! Just when things were starting to go our way! It's too damn convenient for them to show up out of the blue like this. How long have they been on our trail? Have they had a chance to report us yet?  We're so fucked!'

She didn't even realize she'd been scowling until she felt her teeth grinding together.  Just when she thought things couldn't get any worse, the threat was made.  Jaya's jaw dropped.  They wouldn't!  She glanced back at Lt. Okafor.  He looked just as surprised as she was.  There was a frenzied murmur about the bridge as others contributed their thoughts to the lieutenant.  It took too long.  By the time Lt. Okafor decided what to do, there would be a hole in fighter bay the size of a shuttlecraft and all their TAC Conn fighters would be dead.  Not that she had anything useful to add to the pot,  but she was tired of watching her crewmates die.

And then the crisis resolved.  Thank the Universe for the FAB crew and her pilots for thinking on their feet!  Now, to really reign in this shitshow they needed a no- nonsense kind of guy. Where was Acting Captain Sunshine?  Still in the brig?  They needeed him here on the bridge. That prisoner wasn't going anywhere but this situation could still get worse. 

Thankfully someone got ahold of him and caught him up to speed on things, but Jaya still felt uneasy.  All they were doing was reacting.  They'd been reacting since the attack.  Fleeing, running on low power in hopes of hiding their emissions trail, lying... they'd never be ahead if all they did was react.  She was sick of it.  They needed to act!

But how?

Jaya hadn't thought that through yet, but she did know that the infrequent updates being relayed to the bridge were almost as stressful as not recieving any news at all.   As far as she was concerned, they'd missed their rendezvous and needed to move on with this hostile shutttle handled later.  Still, Jaya drummed her fingers along the bottom of her chair until she couldn't wait anymore.   It took all of about 10 minutes.

"Sir, recommend we move to the next rendezvous point, leaving news about the findings in the shuttle for later."  She didn't want to say the next part out loud, but she had a bad feeling about lingering in this part of the nebula any longer.

[ Lt. Kai Akoni | Security Centre | Deck 7 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy] Attn:  @Top Hat @patches @CanadianVet @chXinya @steelphoenix @Mathis @Doc M. @Nolan @Auctor Lucan


Kai had grown weary of the Theurgy crews' attempt to try to convince them that they weren't how they were being portrayed.

That's how mostly everyone that's guilty acts...Kai had pondered internally, but caught himself at the word mostly

There wasn't much to do in the brig other than sit and wait. Unfortunately for everyone in the brig, this gave everyone too much time to think. They'd just been through hell and back..lost everyone not in this brig presumably.

Kai's thoughts had drifted to the crew members and friends aboard the Endeavour that they'd never see again. It would be fitting to take revenge on the Borg or the Theurgy. Kai didn't care who, just that he was pissed and he wanted someone to pay for it.

Kai shook his head seemingly to get rid of the thoughts for now. To single handedly take on the Borg Collective or the Theurgy was a foolish idea and easily a suicide mission.

Their captors wanted to take them to 'meet someone'.

An interrogator? Kai pondered quietly.

 They had brought in two more security officers to help escort them. Kai had done a quick assessment of the situation and surmised that he and Ducote could take them down if given the opportunity. Kai just as quickly dismissed this idea, because even if they took them down, they weren't the only security officers on the ship.

The group was herded like cattle into another room and as Kai stepped into the room behind Ducote he was stopped by the outstretched hand of the Commander and Kai's eyes fell silently to the floor where a body was prone on the floor.

"You don't see that everyday" Kai mumbled to himself as he was trying to grasp exactly what he was looking at.

Meanwhile their captors had brought up the video recording of the cell on the monitor as everyone had gathered around to see it. Kai didn't believe most of what he saw as it's something that could easily be fabricated. He looked at his XO and saw that his body language had relaxed a little bit.

Is he believing them or is he exhausted? or both... Kai thought, wishing he had known the answer.

If this whole situation is fabricated, then they're going through a lot of trouble to convince a handful of us. It just doesn't make sense. Unless they're telling the truth...then I have no idea what to believe anymore Kai silently debated as he watched the room and waited for the next move

[ Lt Cmdr Vael Kaeris | Security Center | Deck 7 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy  ] Attn: @trevorvw  @Top Hat @Mathis @Auctor Lucan @CanadianVet @patches @chXinya  


Vael observed the recounting of the incidents in the brig prior to their arrival.  This, at least, he had to give more credence to, given the unlikelihood that they would so rapidly and conveniently have enacted such an elaborate ruse just for the sake of the Endeavour's refugees.  Still, setting aside the portrait of a treasonous vessel that had been so tarnished by Starfleet brass was not something he could readily do.

Staring down at the tricorder he'd been handed, he had to admit there was no immediate way to be certain that it was one of theirs and, even so, if it had been tampered with in the interim.  Still, the mounting workload required to maintain the facade seemed daunting and prohibitive even if only to gain -- what? -- a dozen potential sympathizers?  The costs far outweighed the opportunity, especially when they had only brought news of a potential invasion by the Borg.

The man in the cell was clearly a Câroon.  Had the tattoos been insufficient a tell, the unique energy patterns endemic to the species was easy enough for him to pinpoint, thanks to the diagnostic scans he read as his fingers raced across the tricorder's miniature command console.  But if this were all to be believed, Vael had to question if this man... this doctor... was the one in charge of their initial investigation into these so-called parasites.  Being infected himself would certainly give him cause to obfuscate any findings.  Indeed, it was all the better to obscure himself in their midst if he claimed they could not be detected.  Vael took some level of professional insult at this, perhaps sensing a task that he himself felt readily within his own retinue of skills.

He listened to the recording even as he went about the business of scanning the man that lay before them in the cell with what meager scans the tricorder could provide.  This required a full medical bay, significant testing, but most importantly they risked the loss of any significant data if the man died, and seeing the grave wounds that scored his body, it was a wonder he had not already bled out and left his organs to whither on the ground around him.

"... this particular breed of skin-puppet is hard to control..."  Vael quietly noted the statement, wondering how much veracity it contained.  It would require studies, likely other Câroon, but more risky, another of these so-called parasites.  The creature seemed to proclaim that he was the cause for the doctor's inexplicable survival in such a state and, further, that the level of control he now leveled was in direct relation to that need.  Another interesting tidbit.  If true.

The conversation then turned to Starbase 84 with talk of a betrayal... one above and beyond any alleged threat these parasites might muster.  Vael's eyes flicked upwards for the barest moment to determine to whom the captive doctor was addressing.  A trill.  He'd heard that joined trill hosts were occasionally at odds with past incarnations of themselves.  He did find it curious that they would allow such a potential liability to walk about freely.  Had the trill altered the broadcast that Starfleet used to cement its position against the Theurgy and her crew?  This was a lot to take in and he was operating on back-to-back shifts merely trying to keep their lifeboat functional.

He took a deep breath, handing the tricorder and his hastily performed tests to Commander Ducote, doing his utmost to maintain the professional countenance that was expected of him, but it was a facade that was readily beginning to fail.  The same was likely true for the lot of them and options were unfortunately out of reach.  "If this man doesn't receive medical treatment, they risk losing any opportunity to resume the study of these 'parasites'.  A necroposy is nowhere near as informative as having an opportunity to examine a live subject."  Lowering his gaze slightly, he added, his voice intended only for the commander, "How far must we fall to leave a man in such a state?"

[ LT Daniel Havenborn | Fighter Assault Bay, Deck 16 | USS Theurgy, Vector 2 ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan, @Nolan, @Doc M., @Triage, @Even Angels Cry, @Multificionado, Other Lone Wolves

Watching the scene that unfolded before him with Meony breaking noise discipline and being subsequently dismissed, he shook his head.  He thought he had managed to work those kinks out of her but apparently not.  He’d have to have a talk with her about her behavior aboard the Theurgy once the current situation was resolved.  Daniel made sure to keep his position in place, looking over at Knight who nodded a knowing look as he joined Husker on overwatch.

After a few short tense moments, Chief Ji and Chief Herrold put a plan into motion that subsequently disabled the runabout, hearing the new orders to search the vessel he motioned his team forward.  He was the first one of his team to breach the starboard side and once inside after it was confirmed that there was no one onboard he made his way to a console and began trying to access any sort of information that he could, though the EMP had done its job and had disabled the runabout, as he opened up the console to try and access the isolinear chips he found that the panel he had decided to try and access was completely fused, he really hoped that nothing critical had been held in this console.

Daniel gave up on trying to sort through the mess that was the console as Chief Ji and Herrold arrived to begin sifting through it.  If anyone could get through this mess he had no doubt that Herrold would be able to.  He’d seen the man along with Chief Randall completely field strip a Gryphon and cannibalize its parts to use in others.  As he helped the rest of the squadron search through the ship he remembered Meony.  Now seemed like a good idea to go and speak to her, besides there were too many people on the runabout and he felt like he wasn’t accomplishing anything here.

As he approached Commander Ravon he seemed to be talking with a pilot that he didn’t recognize, though to be fair he didn’t recognize a fair many pilots quite yet.  As he stood there he couldn’t help but overhear her mention Meony and Goldeneye in the showers.  At least now he knew where to look for Meony.  As Ravon dismissed the mystery pilot Daniel approached him.  “Commander Ravon, permission to disembark the runabout and check on Ensign Tancredi?”  Daniel asked.

---------

With permission granted he made his way towards the TacCONN Sonic Showers and Lockers, as he entered he saw both women having a conversation, neither seemed to have noticed his entrance so he cleared his throat before speaking.  “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”  Daniel said.  “Ensign Tancredi, I’d like a word with you in the briefing room.”  Daniel said as he turned and left the showers walking the short corridor to the briefing room and made his way towards the front of the room and stood behind the podium.

As Meony walked in he motioned for her to take a seat.  “I assume you have a good excuse for why you broke noise discipline, but I don’t want to hear it.”  Daniel’s tone of voice was completely stern and authoritative; he didn’t like speaking down to one of his officers this way.  “I am extremely disappointed in your behavior.  You will promptly report to Commander Ravon and apologize for your outburst.  Then you and I are going to sit down and have a chat later, is that understood Krystal?”  It was rare for Daniel to actually use her given name instead of her callsign or family name.  Daniel didn’t normally resort to being that casual while on duty but he wanted her to know how he really felt right now and the number of times that he had used her given name while on duty could be counted on one hand.

[ Ens. Krystal "Meony" Tancredi (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Krystal_Tancredi,_callsign_%22Meony%22) | Fighter Assault Bay Lockers | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Doc M., @Havenborn, @Multificionado & @Nolan
[Show/Hide]Meony bobbed her head left and right in a non-committal nod. It certainly was a train of thought she's considered herself. But how to prove that, and then what did they do about it? She started slightly when Tessa exclaimed, and then seemed to put everything together in one picnic basket. “Mmm...yeah,” said Meony, actually considering it, then frowned, “only problem is th' Federation's after us too. So we're gonna 'ave to do it on our own, with what we have.” She shrugged, “nothin' new, and we'll manage. Hell Ah bet we-”

She turned to look at Daniel, and quickly clipped off “Yes suh!”

Looking back at Tessa, she lightly clapped the woman on the shoulder, “Tell ya what, t' be continued, 'kay? Ya work on this ah-deah of yours, and when Ah go get mah ass handed t' meh bah Havenborn (mah fault entahrly that), Ah'll be raht back, and we figger this out t'gether. Later, sugah.”

She pulled herself up to her feet and padded after Daniel. Now she knew he knew the kind of asshole that she could be most if not all the time. Then again, it's new days, with loads more stress piled on over the ones they still carried from Hell Sector, and she knew the man was at his wit's end, so she already regretted mouthing off at the Niger crew. They were close, despite all appearances to the contrary. Meony often cussed out at him, and he would stare daggers at her, but the redhead didn't doubt for even one second that he wouldn't lay down his life for her without thought just as she would for him. Nevertheless, times like these, she bet he wished she'd be a little...less like Meony.

Depending on how angry or disappointed he was in her, he'd use her birth name, as an indicator, and that usually meant she beyond fucked up. No one called her Krystal anymore, and any who did, would do so in anger, hatred or bitter disappointment. Oh, he just used it. Yep, she was in the doghouse. Shit? Yup. Fan? Oh yeah. Definite hittage? What do you think?

She kept her eyes on her feet the whole time, no argument, no defense, just meek repentance. It won't be just chewing her out. But what irked her the most was...he was right, Thomas Ravon was right, she was out of line...even if she too was right. I mean who wouldn't be pissed at your family and friends getting threatened by some asshole? But she had to apologize nonetheless, because regardless of right or wrong, Starfleet personnel behaved better than that. Le sigh

“Undahstood...suh...” said Meony, her eyes still on the ground, “Ah'll...Ah'll uh...head raht on ovah t' let 'im know.”

She turned on her heels and was nearly at the door when she paused, turned her head ever so slightly to one side as she said, for him to hear, “They trahd t' kill ya, Danny.” She looked him in the eyes then, “Aftah all ya done for meh, ya teenk Ah'm gonna be nahs t' anyone that threatens ya? Or anyone else in our fam'leh?”

She didn't wait for his answer, and went looking for Thomas.

[ Fighter Assault Bay | Deck 16 | Vector 02 (The Sword) | USS Theurgy ]

He was outside that fucknugget of a Runabout, talking to Evelyn Rawley. Nice gal. She liked her. Steeling herself for more well-deserved chewing out, she maintained her best discipline in movement and gait, clasping her hands behind her, ignorant of the fact that she was in nothing but her jumpsuit now, not even boots. “C'mmandah Ravon, suh.” she said, in a tone almost never heard before, one filled with regret, “Ah'm...” veins on her neck and temples literally strained with the effort to say the word, “sorry...fer...breakin'...” what was that word again? “...noahs dees-uh-pleen. Ah was outta lahn. It...it won't happen agin.” Liar liar pants on fire. It's totally gonna happen again, probably the second she saw the assholes from this micro starship.

“Ah lost mah cool when they threatened alla ya, but Ah shouldn't have. Ah'm uh...ready t' do anythin' ya need me t' do, or uh...y'know...uhm...Ah'm sorry...yeah.” She rubbed the back of her head uncertainly, and abruptly looked away, not sure what to say that could make this better. She sucked at apologies to anyone other than Jimmy, and she almost never needed to apologize to him.

[ Lt. JG Evelyn Rawley | Hangar Deck | Fighter Assault Bay | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Nolan @Auctor Lucan @Triage @Doc M. @Even Angels Cry @Blue Zephyr
[Show/Hide]

The moment she stepped into the rear end of the runabout, Rawley could definitely peg this as a refugee ship. If the poor wankers haven’t tried to resort to desperate measures to scarper, she would’ve felt sorry for them. Much as she felt pity for them already.

She was alone at the moment there, save for a couple of other Wolves, but she wasn’t surprised. It seemed like the rest of the Wolves haven’t thought to check the rear. She was glad there was a couple of somebodies at least in there already; she wasn’t about to sort through all the rubbish. She recognized them as new in the pack after the sortie at Starbase 84, a couple of fellow junior grade lieutenants, Uriah Ahern and T’Zantha, callsigns “Knight” and “Sniper.” She never found time to get to know them, all she knew were the names and callsigns. Rawley was momentarily taken aback by the latter’s hairdo. She never met a blonde Vulcan before…let alone a pale blonde Vulcan.

It seemed that the Vulcan had been thinking the same as Rawley had been in that more results would be found in the rear than in the cockpit, and she had brought Knight along. Rawley felt a grudging respect to the Vulcan intellect, something she felt after she had forgiven Maya.

Busy as they were, Rawley began sorting through the rubbish. She had gone through clothes and ration wrappings when she came across…paper. Ah. She handled it gently, like it would crumble to dust if she handled it too much, but chided herself for doing so. Of course paper still bloody existed, but in this day and age, like wealth among the Federation, hardly anybody makes use of it.

It occurred to Rawley that there was something on the paper that caught her attention. She realized it was old-school notes. And what was on the notes was what got her attention. She knew it was authentic writing; it wasn’t a replicated book. This was genuine paper, and the ink wasn’t old. Like, centuries old.

Hang on, these seemed like more than notes; they were excerpts of a diary. And what was the diary about…? Blimey.

“It’s been a couple of hours since the Endeavour was destroyed. A lot of us are breathing easily now. We were lucky to make it out alive, not after the Borg was through with the Endeavour. Ducote was edgy as ever, but then, everybody around us has been on edge. I can still remember the terror, the impacts, and the Endeavour's hull cracking. Sparks flying everywhere. We lost power. We lost the Endeavour. As much as we can relax, there’s this chilly feeling in the Niger that at any moment, a Borg cube would bear down on us to finish the job…”

Rawley had to stop; she suddenly began to shudder. It was like she was feeling the same chill the poor wankers were feeling. She repressed the urge to whirl around, expecting to see a cube floating in. Instead, she skimmed the rest of the pages. They seemed to jump out randomly, like she was looking at separate pages, written in different intervals. Phrases jumped out as she read.

“We don’t know if we’ll hold for long out here…the galaxy is in danger…assimilation…they’re hiding in the nebula…they will come…”

But the pages were incomplete. She showed the pages to Knight and Sniper and instructed them to look for more paper notes. It’s evident to Rawley she had stumbled across a gold mine of evidence, and if these pages can be pieced together….

She stopped short and came across several padds. They looked good enough to still be working. Somehow they may have survived getting fried by the EMP. She activated one and sorted through its data. What she saw was more proof. She saw so many images, even a playback of the Borg attack that she was more than convinced. She slapped her hand on her combadge, and realized it was sweating. With fear.

“Rawley to Ravon, get over here. I’m with Knight and Sniper and we’ve found something. No, I’m not inviting you for a cup of tea, I think we’ve found concrete proof that these poor wankers were scarpering from the Borg.”

---

OOC: It was an idea that Nolan and I were discussing, of finding physical evidence on the Niger. Nolan mentioned padds and personal notes and that got me thinking it was a good idea.

[ Lieutenant Elro Kobol (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Ayden_Tyre) Brig | Deck 7 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy | @Top Hat @trevorvw @steelphoenix @patches  @chXinya @Auctor Lucan @Nolan @Doc M.
[Show/Hide]Elro didn’t take it personally when the Bajoran commander ignored his comment about entering his mind to review the memory of the holorecording. He figured that was basically his way of saying, ‘No.’ He returned to just watching and keeping his telepathic senses as open as possible. Taer was definitely not a fan of him, but he tried to see things through her perspective. They were an unknown on her ship and had just threatened to blow a sizeable chunk in it with a desperate suicide bombing.

Wenn Cinn was fascinating. He didn’t let much through, psychically or verbally, but what he did was sincere, blunt, to the point. That was something Elro respected. He asked them to follow him somewhere, and Elro was willing to cooperate, especially if it got him to Sickbay to see the rest of their crew. He did a quick visual check of everyone they were leaving in the brig to make sure they were okay before following Ducote and the others.

Their trip didn’t take them very far, as it was just a different section of the brig. He was at first confused by the number of people standing outside the cell, and nearly let out an audible gasp at the burnt form in the cell. He stared at it, watching the impossibility of it breathing still. He looked to Ducote as the commander reached out to him psychically. {He’s alive. How I can’t even begin to say. Injuries like that should have been fatal.}

He took a proffered tricorder and joined Vael in scanning him. The readings confirmed that the man was a Câroon as well as detailing his extensive injuries. He listed them off in as detached a way as he could, arriving to the same summary out loud that he had to Ducote just now. “The pain this man is in must be excruciating. Not treating him amounts to torture, which is illegal and immoral no matter the severity of his crimes. My only working theory is that the alleged parasite is sustaining him somehow. I second the opinion that he should be treated immediately, and I offer my assistance if needed.”

It was then he finally looked around the room to the others gathered there, his focus to that point had been so caught up in Nicander, trying to gauge the reactions. His gaze landed on an unexpectedly familiar face. “Maya?” They had both been in the academy around the same time and had been friendly acquaintances and coworkers. He reached his senses out to her as she saw him as well and noticed she was pulling her barriers down. He took that as a sign that she was willing to communicate with him. {Maya, what is going on here? Is all of this true?} On the outside he tried to remain as neutral as possible, waiting for her response.

[CPO Eun Sae Ji | Fighter Assault Bay | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy]
@Auctor Lucan @Nolan

The ship was down, and from what she heard the people had been beamed off the ship anyway.  Which was good.  There was nothing quite like threatening an entire flight deck for no damn reason other than you didn't think they were upstanding people.  They had saved the Niger, and they could have let the aliens have them.  Who knew what would have happened to them then, one would think that Starfleet, even the supposed “traitors” would be better.  But then, she supposed that she had never been put in that position and she hoped never to be.  The Theurgy was her home as far as she was concerned and while she feared what her parents would say about the whole situation, she was proud of her service here.

That and there was Liam.

But then, that was still highly new and something she didn't even have to write home about yet.  Not that they were receiving her messages .. but if they did she wanted to at least make sure that she and Liam really were what she wanted them to be.  And that would take time.  Which was a luxury that she had plenty of since it wasn't like she could message her family anyway.  She made logs, talked to them, but she knew they didn't go through.

One day, maybe.

Ravon gave some orders and she gave a quick nod.  “On it.” she said quickly as she turned to Liam to meet back up with him.  She thought about exactly what she could do to make it on minimum power, she could do a light boot.  There were ways that they could half boot the ship without actually bringing all the power up.  Just enough to run the systems, the consoles, and get things like diagnostics done without having to worry about what might have happened to the engines or what shape they were in.

Liam looked over at her, and her dark eyes found his blue ones.  He gave her an idea of what to bring.  “Yep.  I'll grab it and be right back.”

She didn't wait for further instruction she turned and bolted to the maintenance bay where she knew they kept a lot of extra things.  Especially wire.  She grabbed the spools of several different diameters, grades, and pay loads.  Quickly she pushed them all into a belt holster that she quickly strapped around her hips and tightened it to fight her slender body.  She quickly grabbed the wire cutters, splicers, and strippers so that she could make sure that if she had to repair something or subvert something she was wholly prepared.  She rushed back out of the supply room and back towards the ship where Liam was waiting for her.

He had a power cell on his hip and she shot him a quick smile as they headed onto the Runabout that the other crew had just left.  Her eyes shifted around the ship as she and Liam made their way to the cockpit.  Liam confessed that some of the wiring might have been fried and she and Liam were ready to replace it as quickly as possible so they could get this thing up and running.

Ji looked over at Liam, admiration on her face, she knew that whatever they had going on was completely new but she kind of enjoyed this stage of things.  Getting to know each other, learning about each other, finding a way to work together and yet still get their work done.  She chuckled as he told her that he might have gotten them in a bit of trouble frying the wiring but he loved to watch her work and now he did.

“Way to a woman's heart, Herrold.” she winked over at him as she dropped her work belt on the deck plating with a resounding echo before she pulled out one of the wire tools and tossed it to Liam.  Ji wa the sort that could have a good time and be a good bit of fun but when it was time to work she was all business.  Though working with Liam gave her an opportunity to flirt a bit with the man that had caught her attention.  She hoped that she could keep his attention herself but time would tell.

“Don't take your shirt off.” she warned him playfully.  I don't want to cross my wires.”  With a grin she slipped underneath the console and opened the access hatch.  There she could see all the wires and conduits that would push the flow from the power to the actual units.  Quickly she grabbed up her power testing device to see which ones had power and which ones were fried.  Each time she found a dead wire she reached up, snipped it, marked it, and went on testing.  It took some time to go through the rainbow spaghetti over her head but she wasn't in a hurry.  Rushing would only cause mistakes and they couldn't afford any of that right now.

Twelve gauge. she thought to herself.

Reaching down she grabbed a spool of wire and began to cut several pieces that she would need to repair the wires above her head.  She looked over for a moment to see what Liam was doing, and to briefly, enjoy his back for a moment and the muscles underneath it.  The subtle movements that shifted the muscles underneath his skin.  Then she slid back under the console and got back to work splicing and merging the wires to get things started again.

Ji tried not to concentrate on the fact that she was in a very tight space under the console.  It was worth it, and honestly, she knew it was just a quick duck out to bigger space if she got to feeling a bit cramped.

“This kind of reminds me of the Valravn holodeck.” she said to Liam, wondering what his reaction would be, a playful grin on her face as she looked over at him.

[ Maya (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Dr._Maya) | Brig | Security Center | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @patches @CanadianVet @chXinya @steelphoenix @Mathis @Doc M. @trevorvw @Nolan @Auctor Lucan @Top Hat

Elro had telepathically contacted Maya, just as she had predicted.  What she didn’t predict was how difficult letting down the barriers in her compartmented mind would be.  It wouldn’t do to conceal parts of her psyche from him if she wanted to gain his trust, but it was hard to open the doors to parts of herself that she didn’t want to face at that moment as well.  Yet without opening herself to those memories and sensations that she wished to suppress, her mind would be as personable as Thea’s after the Savi kidnapped her A.I.   And yet it was instinctive to keep those barriers up. The alarm and confusion coloring Elro’s thoughts were overwhelming; the little Vulcan really should have prepared herself for them. 

Yes, it is true, all of it, she replied telepathically.  Listen to the thoughts of those around you; you’ll find that they are convinced beyond the shadow of a doubt that Starfleet has been compromised by a predatory intelligence that feeds on our pain.  It is uncleanliness, a rapaciousness that defies description.  It sees us as food and uses the minds of those it has usurped to create convincing deceptions while it spreads like an infection to corrupt and devour the katras of all under its sway.  As a foulness shall you know it.

From the angle of Elro’s vision, the neutral expression on Maya’s face looked like a frown as she turned her head to indicate the seared and damaged hunk of meat that wore a charred Starfleet uniform and lied comatose on the floor of his cell.   Believe it or not, that is what remains of Doctor Lucan cin Nicander, who was a year behind you in the Academy and one of the finest medical minds I have ever served with.  He graduated with high honors at the top of our class and yet now he is a travesty of everything he stood for, physically, mentally, and spiritually.  That is the fate that awaits your loved ones if we fail.
 

---

[ Tessa May Lance, callsign:  Goldeneye (http://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Tessa_May_Lance,_callsign_%22Goldeneye%22) | Fighter Assault Bay Lockers | Vector 02 | Deck 16 | USS Theurgy] Attn:  @Triage

The brief moment of hope and comradery was broken when Havenborn called Meony into the briefing room.  His tone of voice didn’t sound like he was luring her away for a romantic tryst either.  Pulling herself out of her self-pitying funk Tessa dimly remembered the redhead sharing the fact that she too had been sent to the showers after escalating the situation with the runabout and that Havenborn had been Tancredi’s squadron commander aboard the Resolve.  Tom was apparently letting Havenborn handle the discipline when it came to pilots from his old squadron, at least until they all gelled into a truly united wolf pack.  She wanted to strip off her clothes and crawl into a shower so she could curl up into a fetal ball but her Valk came first.  The way things were going, the Lone Wolves would be called into action at any time.

[ Ens. Vincent "Fury" Ferris (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Tactical_Conn_NPCs#Ens._Vinnie_Ferris.2C_callsign_.22Fury.22) | USS Niger, in Fighter Bay | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Even Angels Cry
[Show/Hide]Staying with Angel when they began to search the Runabout, Vinnie gave the idea she had a few seconds thought.

"Hey Vinnie, maybe we can talk to Ravon and ask about teaming up? At least until we rescue our other halves." 

"Yeah, let's talk to Ravon later," he said, for the thought had already occurred to him, glancing towards her. They had been on Luna Base together and ended up on the Theurgy, fighting Starfleet, the Asurians and the Savi together. He was confident that even if Angel and Talon were just as tightly knit as he and Dragon were in the cockpit, they could work it out. "Slim pickings too. It's not like there are any other Valravn-proficient pilots aboard. I look forward to it, Angel."

The exo-suited fighter pilots searched the Runabout, and soon, Rawley (whom Fury hadn't met before) announced her findings. Evidently, there claim they'd made was real. "The Borg. How's that even possible?"

Fury ground his teeth together, knowing that against a Cube, the odds for fighter crafts were hopelessly inadequate.

---

[ CPO Liam Herrold (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Liam_Herrold) | USS Niger, in Fighter Bay | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Nolan @Blue Zephyr
[Show/Hide]Chuckling at Ji's pun about getting her wires crossed if he took off his shirt, Liam shook his head as he opened up the other panel. He glanced out from the cockpit to make sure the fighter pilots that were searching through the Runabout didn't hear him.

"All right, then I hope you don't mind if I keep my fingers crossed that you'll take off yours instead," he said in jest to her, pulling out the wires that were blackened in their endings, carefully cleaning out the sockets that had been fused. Of course he didn't mean that she'd give the shirt off her back and get into trouble. Too much company for shenanigans, even though he quite liked seeing her on her back and sweating a bit. In fact, she was getting his wires crossed. Oh, but it certainly didn't help when she then mentioned the holodeck predicament they'd been in, grinning at him since she knew she'd get to him with that reminder.

"Hush, they'll hear you," he said in mock-admonishment, clearing his throat, but he wasn't able to bite back his retort, much less help the look he gave her. "I'll give you more than a reminder if we just finish this shift. Just you wait."

In due time, and with more teasing, Liam attached the external power source to the console and fired it up, hoping they hadn't missed anything. The display flickered to life, even if the rest of the Runabout remained dark, and Liam rose to his feet. With Ji at his side, he opened up the Niger's navigational log, seeing where they had been heading, and then the sensor readings. It appeared that they were following a dissipating warp trail through the Azure Nebula.

"Commander Ravon," Liam called over his shoulder. "We've got something here. Looks like they were back-tracking the trail of something big. But the trail won't remain forever. It looks like it was deteriorating the further they went..." Were they really trying to find where the Borg came from? On a mere shuttle? Liam couldn't decide if it was among the most brave or foolish things he'd witnessed. He turned to Ji, looking at her in the corner of her eye.

If the brass got the idea to pick up where the crew of the Niger had left off... The danger to Ji jumped to the forefront of his thoughts, and he couldn't help putting a hand on her shoulder. "Good work," he said quietly, but in his blue eyes, the unsaid was plain. What's next?

---

[ Lt. Tyreke Okafor (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Tyreke_Okafor) | Battle Bridge | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ]
[Show/Hide]On the bridge, Okafor was second-guessing every action he'd made in his thoughts, sitting there in the command chair whilst waiting for word from Wenn Cinn - who had taken over talking with the crew of the Niger. Whatever was happening in the brig, there were no internal sensor readings showing phaser fire, and Tyreke had to assume it was a good sign. Eventually, Ensign Thorne spoke up from the CONN.

"Sir, recommend we move to the next rendezvous point, leaving news about the findings in the shuttle for later."

Tyreke could definitely sympathise with that sentiment. He shifted in his seat, looking at the chronometer in the armrest of the chair, and spoke. "We still have more than four hours before we need to be there, and we're two hours out from the RV zone. If the Niger were trying to find where the Borg came from, I'd think the decision can't be made by us alone. This is, after all, the second RV, and we can catch up with the others at the third. Odds are... we might have to make the Borg our priority."

Tyreke didn't like it, but given the circumstances, the last thing the Federation needed right now was a Borg invasion, which no-doubt the infested in Starfleet Command would happily welcome. They wanted a galactic war? Then the Borg could be a part of their plans...

---

[ Three Hours Later | Briefing Room | Adjacent to Battle Bridge ]

Just as he'd suspected, the dilemma had called for a senior staff meeting, where some officers from the Niger had been invited to detail what their mission had been, and what had happened to the Endeavour. The meeting had lasted for an hour, and if they were to make it to the RV, hoping to find the other two Vectors there, they were soon at a point where they'd have to go there at maximum warp. Time was running out, and the debate had been ranging from loud to solemn.

Even worse, the warp trail that the Niger had been following was dissipating in the soup of he Azure Nebula, and if they didn't make a decision soon, the chance to ascertain the origin of the Borg presence might be lost. In the end, they had decided to cast their votes, and even the present officers from the Niger had a say. Tyreke had no idea how convinced they had become that they were not traitors to the Federation after having been aboard for a couple of hours, but as a token of good faith, it seemed that the actions of Commander Ducote and his crew had been dismissed for the time being - all in favour of this far grander threat to them all.

Without any official positions in the Sword's chain of command, at least not yet, they were guests, and they had made their case well in regard to the Borg and what the Vector next destination would be. So well... that Tyreke was still debating what his vote would be. He remained silent for the time being, and let the others give their final say in the matter, and cast their votes.

Meanwhile, Tyreke had heard that Tactical CONN had convened down in the fighter bay, the pilots and deck crew learning what was afoot, and in sickbay...

...the decision had been made to treat the wounds of the infested Doctor. It gave Tyreke chills to think about it, hoping they had taken good precautions. Evidently, they had faith that the real doctor, the one they knew, would manifest himself again, but as to the likelihood of that? Tyreke had no idea. All he had done was to give them access to his own research, to help them as best as he might, but he had no business in the surgical suite.

---

OOC: All right! Three different locations will be depicted, and the response time of 7 days begins now for everyone. Moreover, an OOC poll has been set up on the Main OOC board in regard to the next destination for the Sword. Link to poll (https://uss-theurgy.com/forum/index.php/topic,2381.0.html).

Conference Lounge: Here, the high-ranking officers on the Sword have been debating for an hour about what to do. These are the present characters around the table in the room: [Show/Hide]Tactical CONN Briefing Room: In this cinema-like room adjacent to the fighter bay, both the fighter pilots and the deck crews have gathered to listen to Ensign Cameron Henshaw (Mission Ops role for Tac CONN), her just having told them about the discussion taking place in the conference lounge. She stands on the podium together with Sten Covington, answering questions and listening as the pilots and deck crew voice their opinions about what they ought to do. Borg or RV? Here are the characters present in the briefing room: [Show/Hide]Primary Surgical Suite, Main Sickbay, CMO Office: Here, surgery on Nicander is underway. The surgical team is large, given the circumstances, and the process is being carefully monitored by three security officers in sanitised exosuit gear,phaser rifles and Mk II Pulse Phase Pistols. Talking between the medical personnel and the security guards are perfectly allowed, of course, even if there might be some suspense in the CMO Office and the primary surgical suite. Even here, the decision between the Borg and the RV could be the focus, aside from the procedure itself. Check Tyreke Okafor's character page (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Tyreke_Okafor) to learn how he could have aided in the preparations for the procedure on Nicander. Here are the people in the room: [Show/Hide]Please notice how three hours have now passed since the earlier events in this chapter! These three hours are, of course, now available for everyone to use in setting up their own Supplemental threads. The naming convention for such threads belonging to Chapter 04 is still: Chapter 04: Supplemental [ Day XX | XXXX hrs. ] Insert Title.

[ Lt JG Nator 159 & Cmdr Ranaan Ducote | Briefing Room | Deck 01 | Vector 02 ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan @chXinya @Nolan @Vox @Even Angels Cry @steelphoenix @trevorvw

The Hermat eyed the guest officers across the table. It had taken the commander a long moment to sit down at the start of the meeting; evidently he was either having a hard time letting go of his suspicion or had chosen to make a show of not simply rolling over. The trio of Endeavour crew had given their accounts over the last hour, which naturally matched except for the details of their own individual perspectives. Mostly, Nator hirself had elected to stay quiet... the loudest voice in hir head said that was because most of the others present had more pertinent things to say, but the most honest one reminded hir that it was because s/he was content to concentrate on who was sitting where so s/he didn't forget any names if s/he were to look away from anyone's face for a moment.

"We have to follow it," the dark-eyed ex-XO was saying. "Warp trails 'on the wing' are straight enough, certainly, but that doesn't mean they didn't dog-leg somewhere inside the nebula. It was already becoming tenuous when you ab- when we boarded."

"The Borg don't 'dog-leg'," s/he said, without meaning to. S/he felt a suddenly self-conscious under the sudden stares s/he was receiving. Nator decided to cover hir misstep by forging on. "We know the Niger's course; we can extrapolate later."

"Later?" a pair of black eyes flitted to the pips at hir collar. S/he resisted the urge to roll hir eyes. For a man who had gone to great lengths not to refer to any of the Theurgy crew by their rank, Ducote certainly seemed to care a great deal about who was where on the ladder. "The longer we leave them-"

"Didn't you say the Endeavour was outside the Azure?"

"Well, on the fringes of it, yes," Ducote responded, unsure where s/he was going but unwilling to lie to the room. The hybrid's face tightened a little, though, evidently uncomfortable recalling the memory of his ship so recently lost.

"Do you find it reasonable that the Cube would have returned to the nebula's interior?"

"I am sure that I have no idea what the Borg might be planning, Mister Nator."

"Then the vessel is likely already loose in the sector already. If there are any more Borg ships at the transwarp conduit, we cannot stand against them in our current state." S/he glanced around the table. "Sirs," s/he added, looking back down at the table for a moment in a rare display of humility. "If we want to be any use at all, we have to make our rendezvous with the other Vectors. We will be a sitting duck otherwise."

Ducote shook his head, looking towards the Bajoran captain of this part-dreadnought. "We must pursue the transwarp trail. Whether you lot are innocent or not, the Borg threaten everyone." He seemed oblivious to any effect his implicit accusation might have had. "Even if all we achieve is triggering a regeneration cycle, that has to be better than allowing them to work unchecked." There was a strong association of 'suicide mission' along with his words. The man seemed hellbent on pursuing the Borg, especially since it was no longer his own ship that might pay the price.

I suppose his ship already did pay the price, Nator considered. Though that should hardly mean that ours is theirs to dispose of as they fancy.

"We have to follow that trail," Ducote asserted.

"... As soon as we link up with the other Vectors, certainly," Nator retorted. S/he was aware that while s/he was Acting Chief of Operations, there were several other more qualified officers in the room besides hirself. But s/he wasn't about to let this self-righteous loyalist run roughshod over them - and in absence of Commander Stark, s/he was low on sparring partners in general.

Though, of course, the decision wouldn't be left to him or hir. Nator and Ducote held each others' gaze across the table while the others around them picked up the debate.

[ Lt. JG Evelyn Rawley | Deck 16 | Tactical CONN Briefing Room | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Nolan @Auctor Lucan @Doc M. @Havenborn @Triage @Even Angels Cry @Blue Zephyr @Masorin
[Show/Hide]

Evelyn Rawley hung onto every single word made by Ensign Henshaw, probably more so than everybody else, whether Lone Wolf or deck crew. She was, after all, the first to uncover the confirmation that the Borg was in the nebula, and now that the Niger’s systems were back up, the more she learned, the more gobsmacked she was. Three hours had passed and she continued to resist the urge to look around, expecting a Borg cube looming in the Nebula.

The wankers must be daft, she thought, to follow the Borg’s trail in a practical refugee ship! Why in the actual arse would they do a stupid thing like that? You don’t follow a warp trail to a potentially dangerous enemy and drag refugees along for the ride!

That particular bit of news shocked her as well as gobsmacked her. She nearly blurted out, but she restrained herself. She waited for Henshaw to finish. Besides, Razor would tell her off for interrupting a briefing. She knew what he’s like

Rawley heard the briefing through as she hung near Meony and Goldeneye; the latter out of the fact that she was one of the original Wolves left, the former in that she had a liking for the ginger cowgirl. She waited until Henshaw finished her briefing, and once it was done, Rawley was the first to speak.

“I say we follow that warp trail, back to its source. We know what proof these poor wankers they have, and if they were following that trail, that would explain why they were so anxious to scarper when they ran into us.

“We don’t have to take the Sword,” she added, when she saw the incredulous looks in some peoples’ eyes, “particularly if we want to make the rendezvous. I’ll follow that trail back myself, if I have to! The less to scout the trail, the better, and preferably a flying ace. It’s suicide, I get it. I’m not proposing the whole bloody squadron blaze the trail and leave the Sword defenceless; we don’t need the entire pack. But a bloody good pilot could fly circles backwards around even the Borg. A single pilot could track the trail, find the origin and follow the Sword’s signature to the rendezvous.

Besides, we’re called the Lone Wolves for a bloody good reason, lads! And lasses,” she added in an aside. “Think if you will of literal lone wolves, particularly if the wolf remains a lone wolf. Much as they may scavenge, a through and through lone wolf is stronger than the average wolf. That’s what we are! We are strong by our lonesome as we are strong as a pack! Not just in physical strength but in strength of mind, of will, of determination, of courage! It takes a brave wolf to stalk powerful prey, let alone powerful predators! A lone wolf is strong, but a wise wolf never seeks out a fight unless they have to, and certainly not if the predator has stronger advantages!”

She was gobsmacked by her own words; she felt as if she had just made her own St. Crispin’s Day speech.

She knew how anxious some people would be to make the rendezvous with the rest of the Theurgy, that’s why she proposed the idea for just a small number of Wolves, preferably one, to follow that trail back. She hoped it appealed to both sides of the debate, to the one that would rather sod the trail and make the rendezvous, and the one to follow the trail. However, she expected people to sod the idea, particularly Havenborn. She waited to hear anything better, or what everybody’s opinions were. It’s the only reason she restrained herself from saying “Who’s with me?”

---

OOC: I intend to wait for the poll to finish for the results, and everybody's entitled to their opinions. On my part, it's still a "follow the Borg trail choice" for Rawley, but the idea of a lone scout following the Borg trail to its origin and then return to the rendezvous depends entirely on what the results come up with; the idea would still be axed.

[Lt. Commander Wenn Cinn | Briefing Room | Deck 1 | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy]

Filling out the chair at the head of the conference table, Lt. Commander Cinn, currently leading the entirety of Vector 2, tried to not make it look like his focus on Commander Ducote was a challenge stare.  At this point, he was far too tired to back it up if the human took it that way, the only thing keeping him from slouching with a popped collar and a PADD covering his face was a lifetime of steely resolve.  Ducote hadn’t given a centimeter either, having taken the opposing end of the table an hour ago he’d pitched nothing but going after the Borg.

Cinn could see the value in it, a cube in Federation space was a situation no one could ignore, and a part of him couldn’t help but take pride in the idea that they could take one on without the rest of the fleet, doubly so since it came from someone not among the crew.  The pragmatic part of his pagh though, it told a very different story.  The Sword may be the most powerful of the three vectors, but they were still only one third of a ship.  Battered and shaken by the Savi, a fight against the Borg would be quite one sided.  At best they could force the Borg into a delay, possibly not even that.  Ducote’s insistence at following the Borg did raise the thought of just a recon mission, but who could they tell?  Any transmission to Starfleet would bring a ton of pain down onto their heads in the form of Task Force Archeron.

“Thank you Lieutenant.” Cinn finally cut through the heated debate between his Ops officer and their ranking visitor.  Eyeing the long-cold mug of tea sitting on the table in front of him, he ignored it, instead shifting his gaze to the map currently projected on the main screen.  It showed their position, the warp trail the Niger had discovered cutting across the outside of the Nebula, and the next two rendezvous points plotted by the contingency protocols.  “Commander, I understand your devotion to the rest of your crew, and the drive to rescue them and any others from the Borg.  I’ve faced similar odds in the past and come through the other side.  But,” he stressed the last word, “we have other obligations that demand our attention as well, some on very strict timelines.”

“We’ve been at this for over an hour now, I want final opinions from everyone, then I will make my decision.”  The time for talk was running out, he needed to act.

[ Ens. Krystal "Meony" Tancredi (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Krystal_Tancredi,_callsign_%22Meony%22) | Tactical CONN Briefing Room | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan, @Nolan, @Doc M., @Masorin, @Havenborn, @Even Angels Cry, @Blue Zephyr & @Multificionado
[Show/Hide]The Borg issue had the Sword in a somewhat divided state. Meony wasn't privy to all the conversations, especially with the higher ups. Unlike the Resolve, here they still followed the chain of command almost to the letter. No way she was getting trickle-down information direct from a captain here. Even so, she could get the sense that the Niger crew and their findings had brought a problem to the ship. On one hand, they needed to know what the Borg were up to, on the other, they really needed to reunite with the other vectors, get repairs underway, take stock of everything that happened, and then prepare a plan of action.

She was back in uniform, with her hat hanging behind her by the neck, as she listened to Cameron Henshaw's briefing on the Borg. Once it was finished, Evelyn spoke up. Swivelling her head to regard the short-haired woman, Meony had a ghost of a smile playing on her lips. The woman certainly was brave, and potentially reckless, but she had a good point. Whatever was decided by the whole group, and especially by the captain, Cinn was a good man, and fair, and just, but he was very by the book, and all about the commonwealth. Yet, the Borg was a threat that needed closer scrutiny regardless of the immediate situation on the Sword. So once Evelyn finished her proposal, Meony piped up.

“Ah teenk dat's a real braht ahdeah, sugah,” she smiled at Evelyn, then turned to look at everyone else, “It's somethin' th' considah, fer sure, raht? Ah mean, it's th' fahkin' Borg! Cain't jest leave 'em runnin' 'round doin' Lord knows what in our backyard.”

She shook her head, “Dat said, Ah lahk t' teenk two's betta than one. So Ah'd lahk t' volunteer as ya wingmate, if this gets approved dat is.”

But if Evelyn decided to sneak out and do it on her own, the hell with regulations, then Meony would follow her too.

[ Lt. Kai Akoni | Briefing Room | Deck 01 | Vector 02 ] Attn: @Top Hat @Auctor Lucan @chXinya @Nolan @Vox @Even Angels Cry @steelphoenix

They had been sitting in the Briefing Room for over an hour. Both sides had made good points, but no one had actually made any sort of decision. Kai sat there listening to the debates going on around him, but he hadn't offered his opinion on anything as of yet. Ducote and Nator had been debating for awhile now and Kai agreed with Ducote, and not just because he was the XO but because Ducote was making the most sense to Kai.

It's like a dog chasing its tail He thought to himself just as Lt. Cmdr. Wenn Cinn had just about finished talking.

"..We've been at this for over an hour now, I want final opinions from everyone, then I will make my decision." 

Well finally someone was thinking the same thing as me...

Kai paused for a half a second to make sure he didn't cut anyone off, leaned forward slightly in his chair, and spoke.

"Both sides make a great point and I can agree with a lot of what was said, however my opinion is that we go after the Borg" Kai paused for a second and then continued "The Borg not only destroyed the Endeavour, but they also pose a grave threat to the Federation, and as Starfleet Officers  we have a duty to try and stop the threat any way we can. I have to agree with my XO and we have to follow the trail left by the Borg before it dissipates and we lose the ability to find them"

As Kai had finished speaking, he leaned back in his chair and relaxed slightly. Even though Starfleet was not a democracy, he was happy to have given his opinion and let everyone know where he stood on the issue. As the others started talking, he listened attentively and curiously to see what the other opinions were.

Kai took solace in the fact that whatever they were going to do next, was not for him to decide. He was asked for an opinion and provided one. The rest was out of his hands...

[ PO2 Kino Taer | Primary Surgical Suite | Sickbay | Deck 11 | Vector 02 ] Attn: @Nolan @Doc M. @Mathis @Jm Von Cat @CanadianVet

It was good to be back in her exosuit, though it was decidedly cleaner and more sanitized than the last time she wore it. This time, however, Kino Taer wasn’t about to drop into combat but guarding a prisoner that had even Eliska Bremmer on edge. That wasn’t an easy feat to achieve, given her memories of Bremmer from before this whole mess. She looked over at where Bremmer was standing on the other side of the surgical bay and then over to the other armored Security NCO present – Petty Officer First Class Varder Ridun, a Bajoran whom she had worked with only since her reassignment to the Theurgy. He was capable enough and surprisingly also qualified for the suit, but his experience in the Dominion War – at least the bits of it he shared – were very different from hers outside of their common enemies at the time. Each were armed with their rifles and pistols, naturally, and just as naturally, Kino’s suit had a hidden combat knife she could access if the need arose. Or a few, if nobody had taken out the others.

It was all set to kill. Kino heard enough from Eliska to be assured of that necessity, and she was equally sure that the Security Centre had one of the watch keeping a close eye on Sickbay for any signs of trouble during this procedure. Still, if Nicander rose from the dead again and started making trouble, it would be up to them to put him down.

The surgical bay itself showed scars that her wakeup in Sickbay had only hinted at. Here, the Trill could see the scorch marks of phaser fire and something else really hot and one of the doors had been shattered and the frame damaged. There were limits to what engineers and operations crew could repair in a few days and Kino supposed it wasn’t surprising that this door wasn’t such a priority that it merited repairs over more pressing concerns, like holes in the ship’s hull. Nicander himself lay on the biobed, the monitors showing whatever the doctors could interpret as signs of him still comatose. Nurse Jovela was fussing around the room now in preparation for the surgery.

Movement from the Chief Medical Officer’s office caught Kino’s eye and she tensed up imperceptibly until she recognized the figures of the three doctors that would be performing the procedure meant to save Nicander’s life somehow. Doctors Maya and Rez were there, of course, and after the debriefing about the Borg attack, Doctor Ayre was cleared to be here as well. He had been very eager to verify the treatment that the Endeavour survivors that made it to the Niger were getting. There were a handful that still needed to be in Sickbay at this time and Kino was sure that was on his mind even now.

Not as much of an asshole as Ducote, at least. Cares more about the crew than the others seem to, which fits well enough.

As the trio of doctors and the nurse began their work, talk turned to whether ship should chase down the Borg or try again to meet up with the other two vectors. Taer kept quiet at first while the others established their positions, but she did open a private channel to Eliska and Varder.

“Hey Ridun and Bremmer, we're in agreement right? Fuck the Borg, link up with the rest? As much as I’d like to blow up a Borg cube, we’re not equipped to take one on. It would be beyond stupid.” She chuckled, a dark undertone beneath the apparent mirth. “It could be fun, though. I have … some ideas.”

[ Lt Cmdr Vael Kaeris | Briefing Room | Deck 01 | Vector 02 ] Attn: @Top Hat @Auctor Lucan @chXinya @Nolan @Vox @Even Angels Cry @steelphoenix

Vael sat quietly for the majority of the debate... well, they had called this a discussion, but a discussion was something done between equals and as far as he was concerned, they were still little more than unwitting prisoners aboard this vessel with the resultant lack of any real power or authority.  And despite his best efforts, he found his mind wandering amidst the so-called debriefing, his own thoughts having long since settled on the appropriate course of action when he'd first slipped into the runabout during the borg attack, and though his eyes never closed, feigning all the signs of attention, those familiar with his bactrican heritage would note the slight pallor to his otherwise dark colored irises.  Under other circumstances, he would criticize himself for having worked through his last sleep cycle -- something he had frequently argued against when it came to his fellow officers.  But Vael had higher standards for himself, and perhaps a touch of royal arrogance in his ability to soldier through.

In retrospect, he figured the situation ironically fortuitous.  Had they come across the Borg in this condition, he doubted just how far adrenaline would carry him.  Thankfully, his posture remained solid and, unlike his elder brother, he didn't snore.  Some time into the depth of the meeting, his senses roused him back to the topic at hand.

"Your current status aside," he said, given the opportunity to finally voice his opinion, "your vessel possesses one advantage, even diminished as it is, over our runabout.  You have the resources to explore several options at once.  We clearly have no ability to prevent you from pursuing the remainder of your ship into parts unknown, but you possess probes?  A fighter contingent?  Even our runabout.  While it would be the greatest act of karma for our Borg intruders to have found the creatures that forced you into such a state, leaving both the worse for wear, waiting for karma to save the day will gain us nothing in the end."

He placed his palms squarely on the table, glancing at the faces around the table one by one.  "The Federation must be warned of the Borg, whether their trail is lost or not.  They are an immediate and tangible threat.  I know several members of the Pathfinder project.  If we could get a clear transmission signal out to one of them -- perhaps Admiral Janeway herself -- they will at least be on alert for any possible attacks."  Leveling his gaze squarely on Wenn Cinn, he concluded, "If you are still true to the founding tenants of the Starfleet, then to do otherwise would be unthinkable."

[CPO Eun Sae Ji | USS Niger  Fighter Bay | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy]
@Auctor Lucan @Top Hat @Triage @others

Ji chuckled.  “One would think that's a site you'd like to keep to yourself.” she quipped back from underneath the console where she was working and getting the wires moved and replaced.  She never minded work, it was the kind of thing that made her happy.   Something to do, things to keep her fingers busy, and her mind even busier.  Especially with all the things that had happened lately.  It was starting to seem like the Theurgy could not catch a break though she hoped that once they were were put all back together and once they were able to move on again they would find somewhere they could entertain themselves.  Let their hair down, send messages to their families or something.  That was what she hoped for but only time would tell if that was something that would be available for them.

She grinned at his little comment.  “Oh?  And here you were wanting me to start removing clothing.  Liam, I do say, you're quite Modest.” she teased at him.  It was nice, being able to be around him at work, they weren't making out or anything but their chemistry that had started with them working together continued on even after they had slept together and had a date.  It was nice, this, being easy and warm without all the stress of wondering what the next step was.  They were taking it easy, and she liked it.  He was .. very kind and warm.

Soon, they got the console up and running.  Ji leaned against one of the inert consoles while Liam told Ravon what they had found.  The Niger had apparently been trailing something big.  Her eyes shifted over to Liam and she smiled warmly at him.  His blue eyes caught her own and she smirked.  “You too.  We make a good team.” she gave a shrug of her well muscled shoulder and then answered his next question. 

“Uhh.. snack time?” she chuckled.

==Three Hours Advanced==

CPO Eun Sae Ji | Tac-CONN Briefing Room | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy]

Ji sat beside Liam.  They had come in here to hear what was going on.  Decisions would be made that would impact the rest of the ship and that was something that concerned the pair.  They sat in the third row, out of the way and merely listening to the people talk.  She didn't like the way the conversation was going, she didn't like the talk of going after the Borg.  She didn't want to put the full crew in jeapordy when there was so much up in the air already.  So many people, missing.  So many friends, just gone.  That was who they needed to look after first, their family, their crew.

She leaned in towards Liam so that they could whisper their thoughts together without disturbing anyone.  They were talking about the Borg.  The Borg were just not someone that you wanted to fuck with and she certainly could live the rest of her life without having to see one of their assimilated faces.  For one Ji could not believe that they wanted to go after the Borg.

“They realize they're talking about the Borg right?” she whispered to Liam leaving her head close to his so they could continue to talk without anyone over hearing them.  Her dark eyes were on every person that stood up and had words to say.  It seemed that more and more of them wanted to go after the Borg.  She groaned slightly, and looked over at Liam.

“If I get fired, will you airlock me kindly?” she grinned at him as she shot out of her seat.

“I think it's idiotic.  Running after the Borg.  We need to put our ship back together.  We can keep the course of the Niger later.  But those that were assimilated are lost, and those that were on the Endeavour are likely gone.  What is the purpose of going back?” she asked them. “Putting our ship in danger, putting our people in further dangers, and for what?  To go after a enemy that we will likely be killed by?  I think it's a needless risk.”

She gave a shrug and sat back down next to Liam, she had given her opinion, and she wasn't ashamed of it.  Even if it might not be popular it was an honest and good one.

[ LT Daniel Havenborn | Fighter Assault Bay, Deck 16 | USS Theurgy, Vector 2 ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan, @Nolan, @Doc M., @Triage, @Even Angels Cry, @Multificionado, Other Lone Wolves

Daniel listened to what Ensign Henshaw had reported about either the option to go after the Borg or make the rendezvous point; he wasn’t quite sure why the senior staff was entertaining this charade.  This was Starfleet and they would do what they were ordered to do.  Having sat in on numerous senior staff briefings on the Resolve he knew that most Captains liked to have options but that was what his senior staff was for, you didn’t ask the rank and file for their opinion because nothing would get done then.  He just shook his head as more people offered their opinions on what they should do, however it was Lieutenant Rawley’s voice that irked him the most.  Her analogy of the lone wolf being strongest made him scoff, while the lone wolf may be strong it was also the first to die where as a pack of wolves could accomplish much more working together rather than alone.  It was why wolves were pack hunters and why TacCONN generally named their squadrons after them because in TacCONN you worked in a group and not alone, because alone you would die.

He waited for a moment then stood up and spoke his piece.  “Our opinions do not matter, the senior staff will voice their opinions to the Captain who will then make a decision.  Our time would be better spent getting prepared for whatever choice the Captain decides to act on.”  Daniel said as sternly and authoritatively before taking his seat again.  Being one of the few higher ranked officers in the room he understood exactly how this situation worked and nothing they had to say here would affect the decision of the Captain so he saw it as a waste of their time.

[ Tessa May Lance, callsign:  Goldeneye (http://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Tessa_May_Lance,_callsign_%22Goldeneye%22) | Tac-CONN Briefing Room | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy  | 1500 hrs. ] Attn: @Nolan, @Auctor Lucan, @Havenborn, @Multificionado, @Even Angels Cry, @Jm Von Cat , @Blue Zephyr, @Masorin,  @Triage.

Sitting next to Evelyn and Krystal was a very quiet Tessa Lance.  Were they really thinking of volunteering to fly off after the Borg?  Visions of her body filled with infectious nanoprobes and biomechanical implants crammed in places she did not want biomechanical implants to be invaded Tessa’s mind.  Tessa wouldn’t volunteer for that mission for all the gold pressed latinum in Feringar’s Grand Nagus’ vault.  The words ‘worse than suicide’ appeared in her head despite all attempts to squelch it.  In her opinion, whether or not they should go after the Borg was a question that could be decided after all of the Theurgy’s stardrive vectors were reunited.  She nearly jumped out of her chair when Havenborn rose from his to make an attempt to belay the speculation and voting amongst the pilots and spotted Chief Warrant Officer Sten Covington give her a reassuring wink.

---

[ Maya (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Dr._Maya) | Primary Surgical Suite | Sickbay | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy  | 1500 hrs. ] Attn: @Nolan @patches, @Mathis @Jm Von Cat @CanadianVet

By 1500 hours surgery had begun.  In Maya’s opinion, there were too many distractions but there was little point in complaining.   Although Maya, Amelya Rez, Elro Kobol , and Jovela were working in the primary surgical bay attached to the chief medical officer’s office, standing just outside each of the five doors leading out from the surgical bay and protected by an invisible antimicrobial field was a security specialist, including the recently returned to duty Kino Taer.  The distractions did not end there.  Scorch marks from phaser discharges were still visible on the walls, evidence of the violence that had taken place and the disappearance of several officers, including the missing Lahkesis Saugn.  A part of Maya that she had thought she had sequestered in her normally focused and compartmentalized mind wondered if anyone had removed the override that Lucan cin Nicander had used to control the doors. 

Most perplexing and potentially most distracting of all was the change of hair color that Amelya Rez and undergone.  While Amelya Duv had been a brunette, Amelya Rez was now a platinum blonde.  Thankfully her new hair was impossible to see out of the crimson surgical scrubs (http://memory-alpha.wikia.com/wiki/Starfleet_uniform_(2350s-2370s)#Scrubs) she was wearing, just as Maya, Elro, and Jovela were.  While normally a cosmetic modification would be beneath notice, the change in appearance was indicative of a more profound change in the character of the acting chief medical officer now that she had been joined to the symbiont.  The symbiont that had somehow rendered every host associated with it both unreliable and likely to perish from a bad decision in a matter of weeks.  The likelihood of Maya no longer knowing the woman she considered a friend was more than probable, it was almost a certainty.  After revelation of the allegiance of the chief medical officer, the realization that the acting chief medical officer could be influenced by an untrustworthy symbiont that was disturbing to say the least.

“Exoscalpel,” Doctor Maya ordered. 

“Exoscalpel,” Nurse Jovela repeated as she handed the ordered instrument to the greenblooded surgeon. 

“Cytoplasmic stimulator,” Maya ordered. 

“Cytoplasmic stimulator,” Jovela repeated as she handed the ordered instrument to the greenblooded surgeon. 

“Doctor Kobol , what is the condition of the patient?” Maya asked in brusque businesslike tone.   She was aware that any readings he could get off the biofunction monitor could be misleading.  Lucan cin Nicander shouldn’t have survived the trauma his body had undergone, and yet he was still surviving thanks to the efforts of the alien invader that was using his body like a puppet.   In many ways, this operation wasn’t much different than the one used to restore Kino Taer to duty.  Both of them would have been pronounced dead a century ago.

---

OOC:  I'm assuming that if the thread started at 11:30 and it took a half hour to capture the Niger, three hours later is 15:00 hours.

[ Lt. Tyreke Okafor (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Tyreke_Okafor) | Briefing Room | Adjacent to Battle Bridge | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ]
[Show/Hide]With a concerned frown cut between his brows, Tyreke listened to the present officers as they spoke of their reasoning, giving their opinions about the right course of action for the Sword.

In truth, Tyreke felt inadequate. He was no tactician, merely relying on common sense most of the time. He preferred to find his challenges in tricorder readings and the finely tuned sensors in his scientific experiments. Instead, he had happened upon a challenge in the form of the Niger's mission, which conflicted with their own. Now, they were supposed to pick between family and duty. Either reuniting with the other Vectors to get a better advantage against this new enemy present in Federation space, or they would do their duty and follow that warp trail to see where it leads them, before it might dissipate. This, at the risk of all of their lives, where their hearts were truly with the abducted on the Versant... or the order from Ives to continue their mission.

The representative guests from the Niger made a compelling case, offering suggestions. It was all in Wenn Cinn's hands. Tyreke looked at the Bajoran CO and clenched his jaw, offering his word.

"The mission to reveal the parasitic threat is for the greater good of the Federation. To restore it. To smoke out the snakes from the halls of power," he began in his African accent, and then glanced towards the three guests in the briefing room. "Yet we also need for the Federation to be there in the long run. We have feared that Starflet would be divided by a false war - a galactic war sown by the parasites themselves. Captain Hawthorne of Starbase 84 incriminated Starfleet in the eyes of the Romulan Praetor by arming the Donatra's rebel fleet, and we do not know how else they are pitching the internal factions of the Federation against each other."

Glancing towards the LCARS sceen in the room and the Borg warp trail, Tyreke frown depened.  "Yet this? This is larger. A Federation scattered and in turmoil wouldn't stand a chance against a Borg invasion. Whether the parasites in Starfleet Command knows about this, or not, is largely irrelevant. I..." Tyreke paused, conflicted, but knew what his recommendation had to be. "I think that whatever the method we choose, we ought to ascertain where they come from. After all, there is also a third Rendezvous."

Tyreke Okafor just hoped they would all be alive to make it there, and that the other Vectors were there to meet them.

---

[ CPO Liam Herrold (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Liam_Herrold) | Tactical CONN Briefing Room | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Nolan @Blue Zephyr
[Show/Hide]
Ji whispered to him, and Liam heard her.

"Yeah, I think they know," he whispered back, "but... I am not sure they realise that the Borg are worse than most things out there."

Then, after making a jocular comment about what she was about to do, Ji was at her feet and offering a counter-point to the arguments put forth. She made a lot of sense, as far as Liam was aware of the situation. If they left for the Rendevouz, they'd have a whole ship again, and they would be better able to undertake a mission to find how the Borg had gotten inside Federation space. Yet in the wake of her talking, Daniel Havenborn - the past SCO on the Resolve - spoke up. Liam couldn't quite tell if the Grey Wolf was frustrated with not being in the Senior Staff any more, or if he was just bitter in general about the overall situation, but either way, he did have a worthwhile point.

Liam shifted in his seat, glancing towards the two female pilots who had wanted to scout ahead to find the Borg, and then towards Ji. There really wasn't much to be said. "The Lieutenant is right," he commented, clearing his throat, "yet I appreciate the opportunity to be told in advance if we are to go after the Borg. It's not something I'd like to be unaware of. Thank you, Ensign Henshaw, Chief, for informing us. As for my opinion... I'm of the same mind as Chief Ji. There is no use in going on a suicide mission if you can make the odds a bit more in your favour. Like... having your ship all in one piece."

---

[ Ens. Vincent "Fury" Ferris (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Tactical_Conn_NPCs#Ens._Vinnie_Ferris.2C_callsign_.22Fury.22) | Tactical CONN Briefing Room | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Even Angels Cry
[Show/Hide]After the deck hand from the Resolve had spoken, Fury could not remain silent. Being one of the White Wolves before he came aboard, he did not know the Lieutenant with the callsign Salvo well enough, but he was in agreement with Meony and Ghost, who from the Resolve and the Theurgy wolves respectively.

"We don't have to engage the Borg," he said, seated next to Angel. He'd been named her RIO at that point, but he didn't know her opinion. "We just need to find where they come from. We can do that, and make it back. Should the order be given, I would gladly fly with Rawley and Tancredi. A Valravn fighter is even faster than a Valkyrie, so if we need to run fast, the old White Wolves are equal to the task."

Of course, Fury wouldn't dream of going against the orders of the brass. That would just be idiocy.

Having lost Devyrie to the Savi, Vinnie Ferris understood the sentiment of Chiefs Ji and Herrold, since there could be a chance to get the lost back from the aliens if the ship was whole. But between the Savi behemoth ship and the Borg, Vinnie still thought the Borg was the bigger fish to fry. Conflicted as he was about it, because of Dev, it made most sense to him.

[ Lt Cmdr Thomas Ravon | USS Niger | Fighter Assault Bay | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy] ]

After making his way back in to the Niger, he glanced over to the techs working the wiring. They seemed to be having playful banter going on and the pilot smirked a little and left it for what it was as he moved over to the aft section of the ship. Thomas was called out by Rawley who had found scraps of evidence. He looked at what seemed to be paper and studied it before he nodded slowly "Okay..." he murmured. He'd need more concrete evidence to back it up, sure this was paper, but the more sources they had the better. It was then that Chief Herrold called out for him. Ravon made his way back to the front and he got a short description what they were doing. He sighed as he could do the math himself and nodded "Nice work you two." he complimented the two techs before he tapped his combadge "Ravon to bridge. I have an update." he said before offering the solid evidence of Borg presence in the nebula.

---

[ Lt Cmdr Thomas Ravon & Lt Simon Tovarek | Briefing Room | Deck 01 | Vector 02 ]

The two officers sat besides each other as they listened to the debate that had been going on for what seemed like forever. Thomas especially was tapping his fingers on the edge of the table as the brass seemed to fail to come to an agreement. Of course he was part of that problem. Most of the officers made good points and whilst Thomas had an opinion himself, he choose to hide it a little longer as he wanted to see who else might be thinking the same way like him. One of the Endeavour crew surely hit a string with Thomas as he mentioned that they had the resources to divide their options. To chase the Borg and meet up with the other elements. He bit down on his tongue and eyes the officer before looking back to Cinn. This was a messed up situation...

For Tovarek on the other hands, the cards were shuffled entirely differently. The idea of chasing the Borg was the most logical thing to do as they formed the greatest threat to the Federation and pretty much everyone else in the quadrant. However a single cube would undoubtedly wipe them out like they did with Endeavour. Even with the element of surprise gone now. What bothered Tovarek the most was that the acting captain had a point. They were on a strict schedule, meeting up with the rest of the vectors had been the sole priority so far.

In the aftermath of their open disagreement on the bridge during the Versant battle, Tovarek didn't want to openly question the captain once more. The squabbling wouldn't only be a farce to the rest of the senior staff yet it would also break the image of the Theurgy crew as a whole. They were supposed to be a tight knit group. Tovarek sighed and spoke up eventually "I understand the threat the Borg present. Yet while our probes have been all destroyed in the battle with the Versant we have ample resources to deal around." he paused before looking at the Endeavour crew "Yet if we want to face them which will inevitably be the case if we follow the trail, I believe our chances are stacked against us. Sure we have a fighter contingent, yet half of their pilots have been abducted for who knows what reason." He glanced over at Ravon whom only nodded silently. "As for your modified runabout, the damage to it has been extensive. The reports show that most circuits have been fried after our EMP assault." he paused as elaborating on who's fault that had been would just spiral out in a shout match. "So I believe our choices are narrowed down, yet our best chance is to meet up with the rest of our vectors and hunt the Borg down with the full might of our ship. Unless you think you can miss a few fighters to scout for the trail Mr Ravon." he concluded, passing the hot potato over to the man besides him.

With most of the eyes now aimed towards him, Thomas only wished he could be in the cockpit of his fighter. He seemed to be slumped down in his chair a bit and he straightened up as he cleared his throat "Gentleman and ladies... I think we're failing to see the point here. This IS the Borg we're talking about. Can I spare fighters to scout out the trail, yes. Will they make it back once they found them? Unlikely?" he said on a serious tone "There is no human error when it concerns the Borg. They'll be on those fighters in no time." he shifted a little as he made eye contact with each person that looked at him "So if you're asking me if I'm willing to order or volunteer my pilots for a suicide mission, the answer will be no. The moment we'll come under attack from those abducting dickheads, I'll need every single fighter on this ship to prevent Vector two to be sliced in half. I don't need to remind the current senior staff of the damage their ships did to us. Their weapons literally slice through our ships like a hot knife in butter. Trust me when I say that we'll need every pilot we can spare if we run into them." he said and pressed his lips together.

"That said, I do think the Borg form the greater threat. Hands down, yet we do need to face the fact that we won't serve the Federation any good if we were to follow and engage them. Only to fortify their numbers and fail in our primary objective. What good will we be to the Federation if we get mashed by the Borg and fail to send out a signal?" he asked the Endeavour crew in particular. "My vote would remain to follow the RV points to our remaining Vectors. United we stand, alone.... We'll perish."

---

[ Ens. Cameron Henshaw | Tactical CONN Briefing Room | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ]

The presentation about their choices had come to an end now as Heshaw stood confidently on the podium, flanked by Sten Convington. The choice that they were facing was outright simple, yet hard to solve it seemed as Senior staff seemed to be still busy with the decision process. There was a lot of murmuring and talk in the briefing room after Henshaw had presented the options. Following the Borg trail had it's perils and on paper sounded like a death sentence. Yet the Borg were a viable and serious threat to look into. The continuance protocol on the other hand was the last order given by Jien Ives, which meant that the RV points should at least be met. Their objective to spread the truth and ensure the take over by the Parasites to be exposed to the universe had been their sole mission. Yet the cards had been shuffled differently now. Their was also the Versant and the Savi on the prowl.

Cameron listened to the various opinions of the crew and simply nodded at their comments. Some of the wolves seemed eager to follow the trail, yet in the end it was like Havenborn said. They would have to do what the brass decided. Regardless of the outcome. The informative session was purely to inform the crew of the direction the ship had to take. It would be hard to imagine that the decision would be made from what the crew here had chosen. "Thank you all for your opinions. Are there any more questions that I can answer for you all?"

---

[ Dr Amelya Rez | Primary Surgical Suite | Sickbay | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy  | 1500 hrs. ]

The crimson surgical scrubs seemed like a second skin to Amelya Rez as she stood at the center of the surgical theater. While Maya was ordering the surgical tools to slice the former CMO up a bit more, Amelya looked at the face of Nicander. He had been under with a powerful sedative. Her hand brushing over his cheek as she smiled faintly before she let go and scrubbed her hands in once more before pulling the gloves on. After that she went straight to the gaping maw in his body, pulling it open a bit more so she could get a look of the extensive organ damage. Her eyes recognized and cataloged the various organs and state they were in as she kept breathing normally, calmly.

"Maya." she said on a tone like she always addressed her green blooded friend "Would you be so kind to slice away the necrotic damage to his fat tissue and skin. I think we'll have to remove the spleen and a part of the liver. The initial scans were comforting enough, yet when I look at them... They will probably cause more trouble in the future." she instructed before she looked over the third doctor in the room. She waited for him to give the status report Maya asked for before asking "Tell me Dr... Kobol ? Was it? Tell me a bit more about yourself." she smiled behind the mask.

She choose to deliberately ignore the talks of the other people in the room. Her mind had thought about the options of the ship and its crew. Yet they couldn't focus on that now, they had to focus on their patient. They couldn't afford any more distractions that were already there. Her eyes glanced over at the guards before her eyes flowed through the rest of the scarred room. The chills still ran over her back as she remembered what had happened here. She could even hear the screams and the general feeling of chaos if we looked at the blasted piece of door. Yet she focused back on the task at hand, the surgery of the infested CMO.

[ PO2 Eliska Bremmer | Primary Surgical Suite | Sickbay | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy  | 1500 hrs. ] Attn: @Nolan @patches @Mathis @Jm Von Cat @Doc M.

Out of frying pan, and into the fire. 

Just as she thought she could get out of that suit and grab a shower and some rest, Bremmer found herself tasked with guarding that monster again... while entirely too much medical talent would be trying to keep it alive.  At least, it was restrained.  And not just the flimsy straps medical used either, but as many bands of duranium as could be applied without getting into the way of fixing the bulk of the damage, while giving it as little leverage as possible. 

And still, Bremmer was nervous. 

But this time around, she had one of the two people in the whole universe she trusted implicitly having her back.  Kino Taer was in her suit, and she was on hand.  The top dog on the detail, Petty Officer First Class Varder Ridun, she didn't know from a hole in the ground; but Kino trusted him, so it was good enough for the Human.  Kino Taer was a hothead, which typically wasn't a trait that led to long life expectancy when it came to explosives ordnance experts, but she was a good judge of people's mettle. 

When she came on their private comm channel, Bremmer obscured her visor so her lips would be hidden from the outside, as well as fully muffling the sound.  "Tangling with the Borg?  Fuck that shit.  Even if we had the whole ship, that reeks of bad idea.  So no, sweetie, you don't get to blow one up."

Then, she addressed the Bajoran, still on their private channel.  "So, Ridun, that monster twitches we turn it to burnt hamburger, right?"

[ PO1 Varder Ridun (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Varder_Ridun) | Primary Surgical Suite | Sickbay | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy  | 1500 hrs. ] Attn: @patches @CanadianVet @Doc M. @Nolan @Mathis
[Show/Hide]Back on duty, in command.
It had been nice to have his arm briefly tended to and a shower to rid himself of the grime of damage control and general exertion, even a good six or so hours of sack time. Nothing calm ever lasts and so Petty Officer Varder found himself sealed within an Exosuit and standing in the same room where everything had gone so wrong not so long ago. This time however Doctor Nicander was the one under the knife, being mended, for reasons beyond his pay-grade. Not that they were being paid anymore.

This time was different, strange. Scorch marks were visible from where both Sel and himself had missed the thing now laying on the bio-bed, further markings were present from Cobb's attack. The gore was gone, but it was difficult not to remember stepping in the puddle that was Lahkesis's internal fluids. Shake those thoughts, nothing can come of having your mind in the past with a job to do in the present.

Then came the voice of Petty Officer Taer, not entirely unexpected as a small sound marked the fact this was a closed comm link. Not that he expected any less from her, she knew her job and was damn good at it. A through and through star-fleeter might find issue with her methods, to him it was simply something to respect. The statement she put forward was typical of what Varder had come to expect of her, to the point with a bit of dark humor.

The next voice was not entirely unexpected, although it was unfamiliar to the young Bajoran. Another NCO by the name of Bremmer, from what he could tell she was a friend of Kino. Meaning she more than likely knew her stuff and was probably a combat veteran herself, that is before her time on the Resolve. She came through whatever has been thrown at her and is still here, more than good enough for him.

Then a Bremmer directed a question towards him, Varder went to nod before remembering that Exosuits did not exactly translate small movements well. Using the suits internal display he suppressed the suits external speakers so only those on the private channel could hear his reply. "We are agreed Kino, I would rather not become a part of the collective. Enough voices in my head as it is." His view shifted briefly downwards towards the rifle held against his chest before he spoke again, only a brief pause. "Melt it like plastic, one time stuck in this room was beyond enough for me." Having spoken he briefly thumbed the slider over his rifles power cell back, checking it once again before pushing it forward once more in a well practiced and professional manner.

[Lt. Commander Wenn Cinn | Briefing Room | Deck 1 | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy]

Listening intently to each person in the room that wished to speak their last, Lt. Commander Wenn kept a tally of who held what position in his head.  The consensus was quite clear before the final speech: follow the Borg trail.  The only dissension was towards whether or not to link up with the rest of the Theurgy first.  Ducote of course wanted to go straight after the cube, with Nator trying to get him to understand that they needed to link up with the other vectors first.  Akoni agreed with his commander, no surprise there, and while Kaeris did as well, he had the thought of using the Sword’s numerous auxiliary craft to scout out the Borg while they rendezvoused with the others.  Cinn was already thinking along the same lines, so bonus points to him.  He wasn’t sure about trying to contact the Pathfinder Project.  The famed Admiral Janeway though, he filed that in the back of his head for later.

Okafor pointed out that they did have a third rendezvous set up with Vectors 1 and 2, it wouldn’t be the end of the world if they missed the second.  Tovarek jumped in near the end, agreeing with the sound tactical move of sending some auxiliary craft out after the Borg trail, but the only ones they had available were some of the Wolves.  Wolf Leader cut that option off right then and there though, flatly refusing to send any of his pilots out after the cube, calling it a suicide mission.  Cinn would have to have words with Ravon about this later, there could easily be a time when such missions were necessary.  He respected the devotion though.

Cinn gave ch’Rayya, T’Less, and Thorne a quick glance when the room fell silent, all signaled a disinclination to speak.  With all in attendance having said what they wished, it fell to the Vector commander to decide what to do.  The Bajoran could feel the weight on his shoulders and the eyes of the entire crew focused on him.  What he decided to do right now could change everything.

“I don’t have to explain how hard hit we’ve been over the past few days.  Starbase 84’s disaster, getting ambushed by the Savi and the Asurans, and now firm proof that the Borg are nearby as well?”  Leaning forward to rest his elbows on the tabletop, dark hands knit together under his chin.  “Going after the Borg isn’t something I like the idea of doing, especially with only a third of the ship at our disposal, but they are a clear and present danger to the Federation, and an immediate concern.  My first thought was to send a fighter flight down the warp trail figure out where it leads,”  Cinn’s eyes glared at Ravon, “But apparently that’s not an option.  So we will have to do it ourselves.”

The choice made Cinn stood, grabbing a PADD for recording purposes.  “Thorne, change course to parallel the warp trail, follow it wherever it goes.  Okafor, tune the sensors for maximum resolution and range but try to keep our emissions limited, we don’t need to broadcast our location to the entire sector.  ch’Rayya and T’Less, start tactical simulations, run every scenario you can think of, and then throw in some that seem impossible.  Ravon, prep your pilots, we will engage the Borg.”

Turning next to the Hermat, Cinn braced for the pushback.  “Nator, work with Okafor and Thorne to figure out where the Borg might be headed, be it something of their own, or a Federation target.  I want a way to send a warning to any possible target, anonymous would be preferable, but if I have to talk with a governor or ship captain directly so be it.  This is too critical a situation for us to stay in the shadows.  If they won’t listen to us, that’s on them.”

Finally, Ducote got Cinn’s full attention.  “Commander, we’ll need as much intel as possible as you and the rest of your crew can provide us and your expertise would be invaluable to us.  That said, you’ve all had a long week and have suffered some of the worst that anyone in Starfleet could face.  We’ll get proper quarters assigned to all of you, including the compatriots still in Sickbay so that they have a home to go to.  Get some rest, we’ll talk again on where we go from here.  For all of you.”  Cinn nodded to the other guests from the Niger in acknowledgement and thanks for their help.

“See to your duties people, I want us as ready as possible when we have the cube in sight.  We get one shot at this, lets make it count.  Lieutenant Tovarek, if you’d remain for a few moments please.”  Signaling the end to the briefing, he stepped to the large observation window to peer out at the nebula while everyone filed out.  As soon as they were alone, he spoke up again without turning around.  “As you said, we don’t have any probes left thanks to the Savi, but I was wondering how long it would take to build a few more.  Your drones did quite the job on the Savi ship on our way out, and we need to think in unconventional terms now.  As far as I know no Federation ship has ever tried a warp ram against a Borg cube, so they shouldn’t be expecting it from us.”

“Also, what do you think of the idea of trying to get a message to Admiral Janeway, under the table of course?”

[ Cmdr Ranaan Ducote | Briefing Room | Deck 1 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ]

Scanning the room as he was, Ducote was surprised by the fact that these people agreed that the Borg needed to be dealt with. Or rather, he was surprised at his own surprise; certainly everyone from the Theurgy at the table had been a member of Starfleet longer than they'd been a member of this defecting crew, so it made some sense that they would still be able to assess the situation accurately.

Almost as if they're reasonable sapients, right? No twirling moustaches?

He silenced the errant voice in his head. Rather than speak up again, or bother engaging with the contempt he could feel from the Hermat across the table, he merely looked at his hands, folded on the dark surface before him. They were still ingrained with soot and plasma ash... presumably his face was, too. He hadn't seen a mirror in days, but he could well imagine the particular shade of shit he looked. Goodness knew that he felt as if he'd been stamped flat. A solid fourteen hours' sleep after an honest-to-God hot-water shower would sort most of that out, probably, but there was still a laundry-list of things he needed to do before he would allow himself to stop.

The Bajoran in charge started issuing orders. Ducote lifted his eyes to watch the well-built alien speak, scarcely believing his ears. They were doing it. The Theurgy (in part, perhaps) was going to make an effort to warn the sector and risk confrontation with and destruction by the Borg to do it. As grand gestures went, this was up there. Ranaan was far from relinquishing his distrust of these people, but he was willing to admit they could at least manage to do the right thing when required. At least, sometimes.

At length, Wenn turned to the section of table at which the Endeavour officers sat.

"Commander, we'll need as much intel as possible as you and the rest of your crew can provide us and your expertise would be invaluable to us. That said, you've all had a long week and have suffered some of the worst that anyone in Starfleet could face. We'll get proper quarters assigned to all of you, including the compatriots still in Sickbay so that they have a home to go to. Get some rest, we'll talk again on where we go from here. For all of you."

The ex-XO nodded wordlessly. The question of their survival was now a shared one; even his stubbornness wasn't about to sabotage proper cooperation for the sake of his pride. He didn't even bother asking if they were to be guarded or confined to those quarters - the sensible answer would have been Yes even if this had been the Endeavour and all these positions were reversed. He'd been churlish enough already. Ducote stood, the muscles in his back protesting with their stiffness.

"I am going to see my people in Sickbay first, but after that I will share what I know with your staff," he affirmed to Wenn. The dark-eyed commander turned to Vael and Akoni, his voice growing thicker with his tiredness by the hour. "If you could collect the civvies from the brig, that would be best. They're probably going mad being kept out of the loop. I'm going to meet with Kobol ."

Going in pairs was wisest, but they were currently a trio. The thought of any one of the Theurgy crew going up against Kai was an amusing one, but that didn't mean he wanted to risk it, even if the people here were earning some trust. Vael made a more obvious target against the prospect of Akoni, but sending them together mitigated the problem at all. And if anyone went for the odd one out - himself - well. He could cross that bridge as necessary. A final nod to his senior staff, and he exited the conference room without a second glance at the collected Theurgy crew with which he did not explicitly have to interact any more. Ducote headed for the nearest turbolift.

Surprising absolutely no one; he was not, in fact, assaulted the moment he isolated himself.

A short while later, and he had followed the directions on the bulkheads that pointed him towards sickbay to arrive in the entrance corridor. Ahead of him were a couple of waiting couches and a desk, beyond which lay the infirmary proper. As he neared the corner, though, it became apparent that a pitched firefight had happened in here recently. Scorch marks on the walls that Ducote would have bet his left hand were phaser burns and a lingering smell of seared flesh that was probably ingrained in the soft furnishings here. Ignoring that for now, he flagged down a passing harassed-looking orderly.

"Where is Doctor Kobol ? From the Endeavour."

"He's in surgery, sir. You must be Commander Ducote?"

"Yes."

"I don't know how long they'll be, but-"

"Please show me to where the injured Endeavour crew are being treated." The words phrased a request; his tone, a requirement.

"Several are still being-"

"This way?" Ducote pointed towards the ward and started walking, leaving the orderly in his wake. The man hastily tried to catch up.

"Hey, you can't-"

[ Lt JG Nator 159 | Briefing Room | Deck 1 | The Sword ]

The Hermat listened with growing discomfort as the consensus trended towards following the Borg, without first making their rendezvous with the other Vectors. Hir jaw clenched as s/he considered their mass suicide. If they entered a battle with the Collective now... even if they survived it in the literal sense, in the figurative they would still be obliterated. S/he wasn't sure if hir high metabolism and short life span would count against hir enough that s/he could escape assimilation. Though that would mean death as an alternative...

S/he blinked the fatalism out of hir thoughts for a moment, returning hir gaze to the madman in charge of their "guest" officers across the table. His ship had been destroyed by the Borg, sure. That would be bad enough, if it didn't also mean that a fair proportion of his crew weren't dead, but now enslaved to the hive mind.

Not that s/he thought that gave him grounds to drag the Theurgy into the same hell along with him for the sake of it.

Commander Wenn brought hir out of hir reverie, addressing the acting Ops chief directly. "Nator, work with Okafor and Thorne to figure out where the Borg might be headed..."

Forcing hir jaw to relax, s/he just closed hir eyes and nodded. Hir eyes flicked over the other officers for a single sweep before s/he realised that in hir lapse of attention, s/he had forgotten which faces belonged to Thorne and Okafor. Nator looked back at the swarthy Bajoran. "Aye, sir. We'll work something out."

Little other choice, I suppose.

S/he stood with the others, and left quickly. Nator decided to stay outside the doors to wait for hir assigned colleagues, reasoning that despite hir failing to recall them, they would collect hir on the way to... wherever they would end up working. Stellar cartography was on Vector 03. Despite not knowing his face, the scent clinging to Ducote's uniform was hard to miss as he left the conference room; smoke and sharp sweat and adrenaline. S/he watched him stalk down the corridor towards the lifts, hir face unreadable.

[ Lt Simon Tovarek | Briefing Room | Deck 01 | Vector 02 ]

As the meeting runs to the end, Simon notices Ravon's displeased look on his face as he is ordered to prepare his pilots for a presumable Borg encounter. The SCO nodded simply to Wenn Cinn before he strode out of the briefing room. The thoughts he had were kept to himself as he'd do what was ordered for him, despite his reservations. Tovarek watched the other walk out or linger a bit longer before Cinn told him to stay behind. He was surprised partly by the offer and nodded as he stood up and waited for the room to clear before walking over to the acting captain.

Tovarek's lips curled into a faint smile as Cinn mentioned unconventional war tactics against the Borg. He shook his head slowly "I'd need to check with the crews who manufactured them. Usually it doesn't take that long. Normally a day or three for one considering the diminished manpower." he informed him "The bad news is, the resources for the drones were scattered among the different vectors. So I'm unsure if we can produce them at all." he advised the captain. with a slight hint of disappointment in his tone. "As for Janeway..." he pondered as he looked out at the nebula "If we do choose to contact Janeway... I would opt to use it under the name of the Endeavour crew. Mask our signal to match the Endeavour's. It'll not raise any red flags or suspicions, plus she might be our best chance if we face the Borg."

After that Tovarek remained silent fora few moments, allowing Cinn to react to hat he had said "Captain... As for the Borg, I can try and look up some more unconventional ways to engage them should we come to a fight with them. We've had some intelligence about them, sparsely at times, but I'm confident we can find something to use. I just need to know how unconventional we can go here captain?"

[ Lieutenant Elro Kobol (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Ayden_Tyre) Brig | Deck 7 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy | @patches @Nolan @Doc M. @CanadianVet @Jm Von Cat
[Show/Hide]Closed off from all outside thoughts, and with a complex and difficult procedure in front of him, Elro was able to finally shut out all of the worry and tension of the past few days. Worked had always helped to center him. He was a wreck outside of it, especially the past few hours and days. It was exactly what he needed. From the Borg attack, to surviving on the Niger, to being lured/rescued here, to being transported to the brig… it had not been his best week ever. While doing the work of saving someone’s life, though, he was able to quiet his mind and focus.

His job during the surgery was to monitor the patient’s vitals, assist on the major functions, and do some minor repairs aside from that. When Dr. Maya asked him for the status, he looked to the monitors just to his side. “All vitals in acceptable levels, no major shifts.” He began the work of repairing some minor arteries in the lower extremities, still marveling at how this man was alive. Assuming all of their sensor data could be authenticated, this would make one hell of a Starfleet Medical Journal submission. Assuming they survived.

His mind drifted only for a moment to those meeting elsewhere on the ship to decide where they should go, to the rendezvous with the other vectors of the Theurgy, or after the Borg. He was glad he didn’t have to make the decision. To be honest, as much of a threat as the Borg were, his main priority was the welfare of the crew. He didn’t know if he’d ever tell anyone, but if it were up to him, they’d leave the Borg in their wake, meetup with the other ships and find a way to get word to the rest of Starfleet.

Dr. Rez addressed him next, surprising him with a personal question. Her eyes smiled warmly, and he assumed she was smiling behind the mask as well. “Not sure what all there is to say, Doctor. I’m a Betazoid, grew up in San Francisco, served as a medical officer on the Artemis for five years before my transfer to Endeavour as CMO earlier this year. Not sure where I go from here, to be honest. I’m just glad to be out of your brig and helping.”

[ PO2 Eliska Bremmer | Primary Surgical Suite | Sickbay | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy  | 1500 hrs. ] Attn: @Nolan @patches @Mathis @Jm Von Cat @Doc M.

At least, it would seem Ridun wasn't overly stuck-up one bit.  After all, he was a First Class, and both Kino and Bremmer were Second Class.  After the War, she did have to deal with some higher-ranking NCOs who made a point to remind her of their status, and how her close protection, ACS and Mistress-at-Arms qualifications meant nothing as they still outranked her.  And he was on board with the plan to destroy the monster should it do so much as take a breath in a threatening manner. 

Even behind a forcefield, it made Eliska's skin crawl with more than just a little fear.  And with only mere restraints in place?  Her trigger finger was more than a little itchy and it was only through years of training and discipline she wasn't fingering the trigger just yet.  Or, like Ridun, redundantly making sure her rifle was ready to rock at a moment's notice. 

And, as she watched the back of the physicians arrayed around Nicander, an orderly walked squarely between she, and the threat in the room.  "Hey, partner," she said over the outer speakers.  "Don't walk in front of us.  Great way to put yourself between that thing and those supposed to keep you alive if... when it decides to be nasty."

[CPO Eun Sae Ji | Tac CONN Briefing Room | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy]
@Auctor Lucan

Ji was left unheard.  Or rather, just not listened too.  But then, it was really not her decision and she knew that from the beginning.  She had only wanted to make sure that they understood the ramifications of going after a race that was known for over powering the universe.  She knew they knew, but she also felt that they were wrong in their decision to then, go after the Borg.  It wasn't a good idea, and she regretted the fact that they were now going to have to do that.  It was dangerous, ridiculously so, and it was an unnecessary risk.  They could, surely, go after the Borg after they met back up with the rest of the ship. 

Havenborn spoke next, she didn't have any experience with him.  But, she knew that he was right too.  Liam decided to speak, and her dark brown eyes shifted over to the man that she was bonding with more and more as time went on.  What started as flirtation evolved into sleeping together and a date, dinner, talking.. and more.  Now, she found herself looking forward to every stolen moment she could get.  Liam was right, and he agreed with her, which was always a good way to go.  She smiled over at him and put her hand on top of his.  She didn't know if they were really out with their relationship or not but she knew that their playful flirty banter was going to get noticed soon enough and she might as well enjoy their bonding.

They were going to go.

Cinn began to give orders and she sighed softly closing her eyes and slumping in her seat.  She didn't feel defeated she just felt tired.  She was tired of fighting and tired of running and sometimes she just wanted to curl up next to someone and find a normal life.  But, she knew she would never be happy with just a normal life and that was why she had joined Starfleet to begin with.  She had been able, through Starfleet, to meet someone like Liam.  Whatever their future held she would take as it came but for right now she just was glad they could be beside one another and enjoy the company of one another.  She let out a long slow breath before she turned to look at Liam.  Her dark eyes opening as others were dismissed, though her hand continued to stay in his unless he pulled his away from hers.

“We better go prep the fighters.  This is probably going to get nasty.” She said softly as she studied his face and those soft blue eyes of his.  The ones that called to her from the very first time she had met him.

[ Lt. Kai Akoni | Briefing Room | Deck 1 | The Sword ]

Commander Ducote had ordered Kai and Vael to go to the Brig and collect the civilians that were there, kept in the dark about the happenings over the last few hours. Ducote seemed to think that they’d be mad about being left out of the loop, but Kai figured it didn’t much matter as this was a Starfleet decision and not something they’d really have much input in to.

As Vael and Kai walked to the turbolift, Kai let Vael enter first as a sign of respect for the higher rank.

The two didn’t speak as the lift started moving towards the brig. After the days of adrenaline and constant tension, this was the first moment that Kai felt himself relax since before the attack on the Endeavour. His mind had started to wander towards what had happened aboard the Endeavour. Kai couldn’t help think about the people that had been lost.

Friends…coworkers…love

He had made some good friends during his short time aboard.

Kai’s mind had focused on two people in particular. The first person was the first person he made friends with…that was Cross. The hybrid was pretty closed off in the beginning, but had come around nicely with a little prodding from Kai. Although it apparently didn’t matter much now because he was dead…and there was nothing Kai could do to bring him back.

The second was Annika, Kai was never able to admit it to her, but he was sure he loved her. It had been a whirlwind romance, but now it was all over. Kai tried to push the thoughts out of his head, but it had been hard. He hadn’t had time to grieve yet, but there would be time for that after they figure out how to take care of the Borg.

I just hope they weren’t assimilated Kai thought as the turbolift slowed to a stop and the doors opened.


[ Lt. Kai Akoni | Corridor | Deck 7 | The Sword ]

The two officers walked silently down the corridor on their way to the brig. It was nice to walk somewhere at a slightly slower pace. The immediate threats had dissipated, although the Borg were still out there, they were still able to relax, albeit slightly. 


As they walked, Kai noticed the state of the ship. Even though it still looked relatively well kept and put together, Kai could tell this ship had been through some things. 


First the Borg, then the parasites Kai thought to himself as the two officers arrived at the Brig. 


Kai let Vael go through the door first once again, and stood two steps behind as the Lt. Cmdr. began the process of collecting the civilians. 


Even though he was slightly more relaxed, one could never be too cautious; especially on an unfamiliar ship whom just hours ago, Kai considered traitors. 

[Lt. T'Less | Briefing Room | Deck 1 | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy]

T'Less had remained silent throughout most of the briefing, partially due to her mind processing how an encounter with the Borg wasn't exactly the ideal situation she wanted to be in for her first day back on active duty after everything she had been through, especially on top of the parasite situation as well. The other reason however was due to her considering their options.

Logic dictated that uniting with one or both of the other vectors would increase their chances of success against the Borg from both a tactical and firepower perspective however that would take time, something they couldn't really afford to waste given the situation.

As she listened to the other people in the room speak, she glanced around the room, noting the crew from the other ship that had joined them. Although it was certainly nice to have other members from Starfleet with them, they were also people who up until several hours ago would have considered them all traitors, which was a little disconcerting. However they had convinced others of their innocence before and T'Less was sure they would do so again.

For now however the Borg were a slightly more immediate threat and one that at least they all seemed to agree was the important thing to focus on. Whether the new people would be a threat to them in the future it was clear that for now at least they were all on the same page. Turning her attention to Wenn and gave a slight nod of her head when he ordered her to run tactical simulations with ch'Rayya, her mind already thinking up several she could run based on the Battle of Wolf 359 as well as all the information from the Enterprise's numerous encounters with the Borg as well as the vast amounts of information gathered by Voyager and her crew as well as a few others she knew existed in the ship's database.

Glancing briefly over at ch'Rayya the Vulcan knew that they would have their work cutout for them. The Borg were one of the Federation's toughest and most dangerous enemies and although individual Cube's had been defeated in the past by ships like the Enterprise and Voyager, the firepower of a single vector it was fair to say probably wouldn't be enough to do it unless they were both incredibly creative and incredibly lucky and only one of those two things did they have any control over.  The next few hours were going to be....interesting to say the least.

"I am sure we can come up with a few ideas Lieutenant."  she replied

[ PO2 Kino Taer | Primary Surgical Suite | Sickbay | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy  ] @CanadianVet @Jm Von Cat

Kino barked out a soft laugh at Varder’s comment to burn the man on the biobed to plastic. She sympathized with the feeling of not wanting to be stuck in the room with what she had heard was a pretty nasty monster. Taer and Bremmer had been together in some particularly sketchy or sticky situations before, mostly due to bad Intel or Dominion surprises. She flexed the fingers on her synthetic hand absentmindedly, her mind replaying the events that cost her the arm and a good part of her leg. Bremmer would joke about not trusting Kino to know explosive safe ranges, but the Trill remembered clearly the look that was on her friend’s face after it happened.

It was a strange thing to be on the other side of that curious mix of anger, fear, and grief she had felt for comrades during the Dominion War. The piper always took his payment, one way or another.

Eliska’s voice brought her rudely out of her reverie and Kino’s trigger finger twitched before she registered what was said. Kino sighed.

“They’re just doing their job, babe.” She chided, the edge in her voice softened with a tinge of amusement. “No need to be so rude.”

Her attention returned entirely to the surgical bed and the people around it. The damage Nicander had taken was severe, but the doctors were obviously skilled. Given the information she was given, Taer idly wondered why they would bother using medical supplies and time on a man that turned so completely traitorous through the parasite that infected his mind and body. Did they really think it would be worth it? Once restored, it meant Round Two wouldn’t be between a weakened Nicander and the Theurgy but a parasite-infested Câroon at the height of his powers. She didn’t need personal experience to realize the potential danger that put everyone in.

The dice are loaded and the board’s stacked against us as it is. Kino mused as she glanced at Eliska, then Ridun, then the doctors. Staying true to Starfleet isn’t going to be worth much if we’re dead from this fool’s quest.

[ Lt Cmdr Thomas Ravon | Tac CONN Briefing Room | Deck 16 | Vector 02 ]

With big steps the squadron commander of the lone wolves marched towards the fighter assault bay as he wanted to inform his pilots personally about the shitstorm they'd be in at some point. Ravon didn't encounter a lot of people in the corridors and the reason why that was the case was easily discovered as he walked over the hangar deck and saw the rather full briefing room. A lot of people had seemingly attended Henshaw's exposition about their choices. He opened the doors slowly and nodded at the last row of people who turned to look who entered. He made his way on the side of the bustling and murmuring room of people and once he reached the podium most people had fallen silent.

Henshaw looked at Ravon as his presence here would only mean one thing. They senior staff would've come to an agreement on where they'd venture now. Judging by the look on his face, Thomas didn't quite agree with that choice, whichever choice that might've been. "If I may have your attention." Thomas started as he gazed over the audience "Senior staff has decided that we'll be following the warp trail left behind by the Borg." he paused as undoubtedly the crowd before him would start talking and murmuring before him. He gave it a few seconds before he whistled to get their attention once more "This means that the fighters are to be combat ready at all times. Furthermore combat patrols will be doubled up. Wolves from this point on we'll be functioning as if we're on yellow alert," he stated before he licked his lips a little, "These will be rough times ahead, so if you have any personal errands to run I'd suggest you do so now.  I want us to be ready for whatever comes our way. Good luck ladies and gentlemen. Dismissed." he concluded before he turned away and looked at Henshaw and Sten.

"Sten, you might want to give your cubs a chance to sort personal issues as well. Once we're facing the Borg, I doubt we'll all come out of this in one piece," he said softly to the chief. Cameron nodded slowly as she looked at Covington before looking back at Thomas and excusing herself as she couldn't do anything more. She sauntered through the crowd as she made her way out of the briefing room.

[ Dr Amelya Rez | Primary Surgical Suite | Sickbay | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy  | 1500 hrs. ]

Attentively Amelya listened to what the newly acquired doctor said as he introduced himself. In the meantime her eyes had glanced him over before she eyed the security officers positioned in the room. They'd be a distraction in an already elaborate and difficult procedure. Then again the entire surgical suite was a distraction as it was scarred and not repaired fully. Another distraction was the notion that they didn't know what the senior staff would decide about their future course of action. It was a nagging thing to be left in the unknown. However, this wasn't the time to think about such things as the patient on the table would need all the care they could provide.

"I'm glad to have an extra set of eyes helping us." Amelya replied before she turned her attention back on the organs that had to be removed "How's it going?" she asked on a softer tone to her Vulcan colleague and friend. She glanced over at Kobol  "Elro? Can I call you that?" she asked carefully before continuing "Could you start preparing the prosthetic material provided by Lieutenant Okafor. I think we'll need the artificial liver and kidneys, maybe a lung... Yes, most definitely a lung." she said as she looked into the carcass of Nicander by lifting up some of the flesh.

"Maya, if it's alright with you I'll start with the ribcage in order to get to the lung. Could you remove the spleen and liver in the meantime? If I'm not done by then, you could start with implementing the liver, perhaps salvage what you can from his pancreas and patch it up where needed." she suggested as she took out the tools she'd need to carve open the infested just a little more before making him better. Regardless, the surgery would take more than a few hours. That is if nothing interfered with their plans.

[ Ens. Krystal "Meony" Tancredi (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Krystal_Tancredi,_callsign_%22Meony%22) | Tactical CONN Briefing Room | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan, @Nolan, @Doc M., @Havenborn, @Triton, @Blue Zephyr & @Multificionado
[Show/Hide]Meony was often bluster and bravado, courage and creative swearing all rolled into one. Some people thought she had no fear at all, and would kick ass all the way. But the redhead herself? She knew the truth. She was scared as hell. Tessa showed it, but the Texas-born cowgirl had long since buried the truth within herself, and just convinced herself that as long as she didn't show it, it was all right. Lately, she'd been rethinking this. Even as she'd voiced her readiness to fly with Evelyn, the two of them alone if necessary, in came Thomas Ravon, and boy, Meony wasn't sure if she liked it or hated it.

“Well, guess it's d'sahded then,” said Meony to Evelyn, and indirectly to Tessa, “inta th' mouth o' th' beast.”

She turned back at Thomas' whistle, and listened to what he had to say. Personal errands? Yeah, she had a few to run, she realized. Soon as they were dismissed, she winked at Evelyn and gestured to her with a gun salute, “See y'all when we're out kickin' ass, darlin's.” She addressed her friend and anyone else within her line of sight before leaving the room.

She needed to leave a message for someone very important to her heart, but first, she had to go see another family friend.

[ Zoological Lab | Deck 7 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ]

“Sharky! C'mere!!!” Meony threw her hands out to the big lovable pooch, who just barreled the redhead over, slobbering and showering her with love and barks. Laughing, the girl almost could forget everything as she played with the dog, checking on him, and making sure everything was in order. He pawed at her after a moment, smelling something familiar, and he knew what it meant. “All raht already! Ah swear Ah spoahl ya! Jimmy'd never lemme hear th' end o' this, ya know?”

Well the mutt didn't care. He was getting treats, and that was all that mattered. Rolling her eyes, she fished out the tasty stuff from her pocket. “Ah ah ah! First, sit!”

It took all his willpower not to jump for it, especially since Meony was not exactly tall, but he was well trained.

“Good boah!” She tossed the treat, which the dog caught easily. She did this three more times, and then settled him down, rubbing his tummy as she pondered what she wanted to really say to Jimmy. “Ya teenk Ah'd make a nahs Mrs. Mariner, Sharks?”

A snort and short bark was his answer. Smiling, she said, “Yeah, Ah thought so too.” She placed him back in his pen after letting him have a good walk, then left.

At the turbolift, she took a deep breath, and managed to get it right on the first try, “Deck fifteen.”

[ Tessa May Lance, callsign:  Goldeneye (http://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Tessa_May_Lance,_callsign_%22Goldeneye%22) | Tac-CONN Briefing Room | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy  | 1500 hrs. ] Attn: @Nolan, @Auctor Lucan, @Havenborn, @Multificionado, @Even Angels Cry, @Jm Von Cat , @Blue Zephyr, @Masorin,  @Triage.

"Sten, you might want to give your cubs a chance to sort personal issues as well. Once we're facing the Borg, I doubt we'll all come out of this in one piece,"

“I’ll pass it on,” the deck chief nodded grimly before noticing that one of the pilots hadn’t risen from her seat.  Tessa May Lance was staring off into the void and had only barely mumbled a response to Meony’s remarks.  “Hey Goldeneye, if you got something to do now’s the time to do it,” Sten Covington called out in his ‘chief’ voice as he walked past Ravon to spare his eardrums.

That opened the floodgates.  ”We’re following the Borg?  Why are we following the Borg?  Can’t we just call somebody and let them handle it?  This is something that can beat all of Starfleet and we’re just half a ship!  No we’re just one third of a ship!  If our weapons didn’t stop the Savi how can we possibly survive the Borg?  Why does everybody want to eat us?  What did we do?  It’s not fair!” Shivering, Tessa bowed in her chair, covered her head with her arms and rocked back and forth.

“I think we lost her sirs,” Sten stiflly announced to Ravon and Henshaw.  

At least one of the Lone Wolves stayed around long enough to console her.  Ensign Christopher Slayton, callsign “Husker” (https://orig00.deviantart.net/74fb/f/2017/311/7/d/cj_row_01_by_auctor_lucan-dbt0rfa.png) stepped away from Lieutenant Talidenai zh'Idenna , callsign "Terror" (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/images/c/cc/Terror.png) and Lieutenant (junior grade) T'Zantha (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/images/8/8f/Sniper.png), walked over and plopped himself into the seat next to her.  “It’s going to be all right Tessa,” he assured her.

”No it’s not Chris!” Tessa gasped while rocking back and forth and trying to take a breath.  ”The parasites… the Savi… the Borg, there’s no way the Federation can take all of them on at once, let alone one third of the Theurgy!  It’s the end of everything!  Even a heroic sacrifice doesn’t mean anything anymore; it’s the end of Fed… the Federation!  They all ganged up on us all at once and it’s over!  There’s no hope!  There’s no hope at all!”  She tried to keep ranting but all she could make was quiet hoarse shrieks before she couldn’t even do that anymore.

---

OOC:  Hell of a time for all of the counselors to be on another stardrive vector...

[ Maya (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Dr._Maya) | Primary Surgical Suite | Sickbay | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy  | 1500 hrs. ] Attn: @Nolan @patches, @Mathis @Jm Von Cat @CanadianVet

"Maya.  Would you be so kind to slice away the necrotic damage to his fat tissue and skin?  I think we'll have to remove the spleen and a part of the liver. The initial scans were comforting enough, yet when I look at them... They will probably cause more trouble in the future."

“Agreed,” the greenblooded physician acknowledged as she held out a gloved hand that seemed too large for her short and slender frame.  “Laser scalpel,” she ordered. 

“Laser scalpel,” Nurse Jovela repeated as she handed the little Vulcan the laser scalpel. 

Doctor Rez made an attempt to socialize with Doctor Kobol  but it was clear that he was having difficulty adjusting to the revelations that had pushed him out of the safe and rational world of Federation Starfleet and into the horror and madness of life as a fugitive and the knowledge that the patient they were tyring to save was infected with a monstrosity from beyond the ebony gulfs of transcosmic space. 
Normally Maya would have found such socialization an unprofessional distraction in the operating theatre but the need to assess Elro Kobol ’s dependability and assimilate him into the medical department of the Theurgy was crucial.  In addition, the parasite infesting their patient made him unnaturally stable despite his injuries normally being fatal, so if there were any operating theatre where small talk was appropriate, this would be it.

Amelya didn’t let her conversation distract her from the patient though.  ”How’s it going?"

“We’ve had to strip away a great portion of the dermis,” Maya reported crisply.  “We will need to use a great deal of dermatiraelian plasticine until we can regrow enough of his dermis to make the grafts.”

"Maya, if it's alright with you I'll start with the ribcage in order to get to the lung. Could you remove the spleen and liver in the meantime?  If I'm not done by then, you could start with implementing the liver, perhaps salvage what you can from his pancreas and patch it up where needed," Amelya instructed.

“Yes Doctor,” the greenblooded surgeon replied.  “Suction,” she ordered. 

“Suction,” Nurse Jovela repeated as she picked up a small device that looked like a PADD that was less than half the standard size.  Her fingers played across the surface and the hum of the transporter could be heard, but no one appeared and no one in the room disappeared.

“Exoscalpel,” Maya ordered as she stuck out her gloved hand and spread her long spidery fingers.

“Exoscalpel,” Nurse Jovela repeated as placed the desired instrument in the Vulcan’s hand.

“Preparing to initiate cut,” Maya annouced.   “Suction.”

“Suction,” Nurse Jovela repeated as the hum of the transporter was again audible.

“Prepare to transport Doctor Nicander’s spleen to Doctor Okafor’s lab,” Maya ordered as she hunched over Nicander’s abdomen and made the requisite cuts.  “Tag for transport,” she ordered when she had finished making the incisions.

“Tagging for transport,” Nurse Jovela repeated as she used a small device that resembled a protoplaser to inject a tiny transponder into the ruined organ. 

“Transport,” Maya ordered.  With luck, the scientists in Doctor Okafor’s laboratory would be able to convert Nicander’s ruined spleen into a functioning organ.  “Suction.”

“Suction.”

“Initiate holographic replacement organ,” Maya ordered.  Maya had been skeptical of such an unorthodox technique for temporary organ replacement, but given the unusual circumstances the holographic organs would keep the patient stable until his damaged organs were properly repaired or replaced.

“Initiating holographic replacement organ,” Jovela repeated as a quiet noise that sounded like an electronic exhale was heard.

[ CPO Liam Herrold (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Liam_Herrold) | Tactical CONN Briefing Room | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ]
[Show/Hide]With Ravon's announcement, it was clear how right Ji was. She'd said that it was time to prepare all the fighters, but knowing that the brass on the Sword had made the decision to follow the Borg trail to where they'd come from, it almost seemed a moot thing to do. The elephant in the room was that it was widely known how fighters didn't quite have an edge against a Borg cube. The Lone Wolves were cut down in numbers since the battle against the Versant, so even as a squadron working in perfect synchronisation in anti-ship tactical manoeuvres... their claws and teeth were not as long as they used to be.

"Yeah," he said numbly to Ji, getting to his feet. He glanced towards one of the female pilots - Goldeneye - who seemed to be having great doubts about their survival, and Liam was of the same mind. He said nothing, however, as he left the briefing room together with Ji, their repairmen and technicians following them out of the room and into the Fighter Assault Bay. They looked to Ji and him for moral support, a wordless question in their eyes, but Liam had little to offer them in terms of reassurance.

Still, he had to say something, glancing towards them with his light blue eyes. "Starfleet has defeated the Borg before, and we'll make sure the staff has all they need from our warp fighters," he said, beginning to point towards the crafts in the bay. "Run diagnostics on all phaser systems, verify hard-point configurations with all pilots, and gear them up. Make sure all micro torpedo launchers are fully stocked and calibrated with their targeting systems, and finish the maintenance on the Valravn emitter housings. Check the patrol schedule first, though, so that you know which fighters to make a priority. Come on, let's go..."

Once more into the breach.

---

FIVE HOURS LATER | 2300 hrs.


“Personal Log, Supplemental. Stardate 57555.12. Time seem to dilate when death is imminent, and I have to remind myself how we got into this situation.

At 1500 hrs. today, we encountered the Runabout Niger, and after the initial altercation, where Commander Ducote and his people ended up in the Brig, the shuttle's crew was willing to work with our staff once the parasitic threat was revealed to them. With an infested aboard, we could provide enough evidence to put most grievances aside, and at 1800 hrs., the decision was made to investigate where the Borg cube that attacked the USS Endeavour came from.

The time is now 2300 hrs., and in the last five hours, after finishing their duties, the crew on the Sword have taken their time to sort out personal matters. The unsaid, the unheard truth... is that we all expect the worst. The Borg is like no other enemy the Federation has faced, different from the usurpers in Starfleet Command. While the latter is insidious and calculating, seemingly undermining all that modern civilisations have built... there is nothing indirect about the Borg.

When possible death stands at my door, I try to take heart in a grim Beninese proverb, one that my mother told me once during the Dominion War. She said that 'the world is a journey, the afterworld is home.'

I do not know if can take heart in those words, because assimilation is not death, and we might be denied the afterworld. Our souls never finding their way home, wherever it may be they belong.”


[ Dr. Nicander (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Dr._Lucan_cin_Nicander) | Primary Surgical Suite | CMO Office | Main Sickbay | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Nolan  @Doc M. @
[Show/Hide]Wetting lips as dry as paper, Lucan slowly opened his pale grey eyes. Where am I?

With his memories muddled with darkness and light, pain and prediction, he tried to discern his surroundings. He recognised the deckhead above him, as well as the apparatus of the surgical suite. There were sounds, the customary ones for the room, and he would have felt at home if he didn't feel like he'd fallen from the highest precipice of Envon and struck every plateau on the way down. The throbbing aches and pain, the soreness and tightness of new skin, and acclimatisation to organs foreign and artificial, and below it all...

...feeling the dark abyss still present. This sinkhole in his soul that devoured him.

Yet now, as opposed to his recent memories, he was no longer submerged. Elevated above the edge.

Weakly, his strength yet to return, he looked around, and saw himself contained within a pillar that surrounded the the surgical suite. He was not alone either, seeing armoured guards along the circumference of the room - armed to their teeth with rifles and hand phasers. He thought he caught movements in the back of this well-known office too. Medical Officers talking. Yet inside the forcefield, two women at his right side, at work - yet finished with him. He blinked, and caught the eye of the dark-haired woman. Her eyes widened upon seeing him looking at her. "Doctor..."

Nurse Jovela had been on the Theurgy for years, yet now, she looked at him as if he was a monster baring his fangs. At some level, it hurt him to see her reaction. His eyes drifted to his right arm, where they seemed to be calibrating the synthetic nerves of a prosthetic hand - the forearm opened and revealing the inner machinations of the false extremity. It took him a moment to realise it was attached to his own elbow, and he frowned in confusion, since he believed he could feel his fingertips as if they were his own. He did not move, already propped up by the biobed since they had elevated his torso a bit. He looked down to see his chest bare, and a teal blanket pooled around his waist. His right side, which had been scourged open, was now sealed with new skin, likely covering synthesised organs. The seam was there, yet nigh invisible.

Then, his grey eyes drifted up to the Medical Officer that was finishing with his arm - meeting Amelya Rez' gaze.

"I think the anaesthetics... are wearing off," he grated through his raw throat, his voice sounding foreign to him since his blood was thick with sedatives, and his mouth was drier than the deserts of the Fire Region.

And as if his voice had triggered an alarm, the armoured guards raised their rifles against him, shouting to the Nurse and the Doctor that they needed to be ready to clear the area, that they were about to lower the force field. They shouted a count-down, giving Amelya and Jovela so many seconds to abort, before they were to be let out - the forcefield winking out of existence for just as long as it would take them to vacate the surgical suite.

"Wait..." he tried to say, raising his left hand, unable to reach them - his body not quite obeying him yet. "Please."

This Cycle... You must listen. Where his tongue failed him, he implored them with his eyes. There is no time...

---

[ Lt. Tyreke Okafor (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Tyreke_Okafor) | Battle Bridge | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ]
[Show/Hide]The warp trail had led deeper into the Azure Nebula. A straight course into the center of it, where there were no planetary bodies - all blasted out of of existence when the nebula was begotten by a supernova.

In this cerulean void, which stretched for light years, the Sword traversed the nebula's inner heart towards wherever the faint trail would lead them. Instead of reintegrating with the other Vectors, Captain Wenn Cinn had led them to the eerie remnants or what had once created the whole of the nebula. A supernova from mere centuries ago, yet already in the Sedov-Taylor phase. The oddity of the nebula's behaviour was an unsolved mystery for the Science Division of Starfleet, but Tyreke Okafor knew that it held no hospitality for starships of any size or modulation. He just hadn't thought he'd experience it for himself, the hazards ranging from the radiation to the pockets of combustive gas.

Yet this heart of the nebula? This maw of nothing that they entered? It made Okafor long for Earth, and have solid ground beneath his feet again. For even with a ship the size of the Sword, he couldn't help but feel how very small they were.

Seated at the science station, Tyreke glanced towards Wenn Cinn, who had elected to remain on the bridge despite the late hour. The warp trail had steadily grown fainter, until their sensors could barely pick it out any more. It was expected that it would end before midnight, and their search would have proven in vain after all. But with the lack of anything out there, it was as if the void closed in on them by the minute, and all that was left - the only tether to reality - was that faint warp trail. The single constant, deteriorating along with their fortitude.

Then, it was gone, and Tyreke's brown eyes widened.

"Captain," he said, looking in the Bajoran's direction, "the trail ends one light year ahead. I recommend we drop out of warp and scan the area. I suggest we summon the senior staff, and perhaps even the officers of the Niger as well." It was, after all, their search to begin with, and Okafor knew he'd personally like to be summoned if in their shoes.

While Okafor rose to his feet and stepped out from the Science area of the bridge, he saw Ensign Jaya Thorne turn her pretty yet scarred face towards Captain Wenn for confirmation before she pulled back the warp throttle, which made the streaming stars in the cerulean night come to a stand-still. Tyreke stood at the side of the bridge and wondered if the Captain would raise the Alert status of the ship, but at the forefront of his mind, he watched what could be seen on the viewscreen. He narrowed his eyes at the increased light ahead.

It was the heart of the Azure Nebula.

"This is a supernova remnant," he announced quietly in his Beninese accent to the gathered officers, having verified his findings already. "Once charted as FGC-SR37-758. This centre of this nebula consists of argon, oxygen, flouride, and sirillium, just like the rest of it, but from here... the Azure Nebula began to expand over two hundred years ago."

Could the Borg cube emerge from nothing? Tyreke turned to look away from the viewscreen. "According to our sensors the warp trail ends right there. Yet with all the charged energy readings we get, I can't say if the trail continues beyond this point, only having dissipated, or if this is the actual origin of the trail."

If that was the case, wow can the Borg have sprung from nothing?

Yet more importantly, were they out there already?

---

OOC: All right! For starters, only three locations will be depicted for the time being, the Bridge, the Fighter Bay and Sickbay.

Main Bridge: Here, after chXinya posts, likely going to Yellow Alert (meaning all hands to battle stations), all bridge officers should take their stations. I leave it up to everyone to decide if they already had their characters posted on the bridge at 2300 hrs., since the past 5 hours is open for all kinds of Supplemental threads you may want to write before this scene. They might be in bed for all I know. Here are the bridge crew, and the response time of 7 days begins when Yellow Alert is called for everyone with characters here: [Show/Hide]Here is the characters in the Fighter Assault Bay, and the response time of 7 days begins when Yellow Alert is called. This, for everyone with characters here, at which point the squadron is scrambled and they are ready to launch: [Show/Hide]Primary Surgical Suite, Main Sickbay, CMO Office: Here, surgery on Nicander is finishing up. Below list has both characters that in the room, and those ones who I leave it optional for the writers if they have remained there or not since 1800 hrs. If there are security officers that have been replaced they could be summoned by the present guards since Nicander just woke up: [Show/Hide]Please notice how five hours have now passed since the earlier events in this Chapter! These five hours are, of course, now available for everyone to use in setting up their own Supplemental threads. The naming convention for such threads belonging to Chapter 04 is still: Chapter 04: Supplemental [ Day XX | XXXX hrs. ] Insert Title.

[ PO1 Varder Ridun (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Varder_Ridun) | Primary Surgical Suite | Sickbay | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy  | 1500 hrs. ] Attn: @patches @CanadianVet @Doc M. @Nolan @Mathis
[Show/Hide]Five hours, split into shorter shifts with rotating personnel. A smart choice, if the posting of fully suited and armed security officers was just for show one group could manage to stand for the duration, however this was not simply a show. If that thing were to awake as a threat every officer present would be needed, ready to respond without weighted feet and clouded minds. Both Bremmer and Taer were on rotation out, Ridun himself was only back on within the last half hour.

From the position he was standing it was slightly difficult to observe for any small motions, doubly so due to the invasive surgery that was still ongoing. The rumbling and sedated voice, although unexpected, acted as an alarm witch prompted an immediate response, one seeming almost mechanical, an effect aided by the metallic exo-suits worn by each member of the security detail.
Clear, direct and aggressive instruction was then spoken by Ridun, his voice amplified by the external speakers of the exo-suit to achieve an almost shouting volume. Step back, Brace for field lowering, Lowered, Leave containment, Raise. His tone making clear the lack of room to argue the point.

As the young Bajoran spoke, his words carried to more than just those within the Primary surgical suite, or even the sickbay as a whole. A direct comm-link to all chosen officers, on or off rotation for this duty was in place. Kino, Eliska, All could hear and knew exactly what the words he had spoken meant.

Nicander was awake.

[ Lt Cmdr Vael Kaeris | Battle Bridge | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy  ] Attn: @trevorvw  @Top Hat @Mathis @Auctor Lucan @CanadianVet @patches @chXinya  

Following the meeting with the Theurgy staff -- such as it was -- Vael would have much preferred to check on the doctor, but such was the commander's prerogative and he wasn't one to challenge the hierarchy of the established command, even under such circumstances.  In truth, it was because of such extraordinary straits that he found strict adherence to protocols critical.  To that end, Vael had accompanied Kai back to the brig to round up the few linger refugees of their ship that had been clinging to the self-same lifeboat as the rest of them.  Two crew members had been sent to sickbay given their earlier injuries, leaving only three hail and hardy enough to withstand the rigors of custody-- a combination of enlisted and civilian experts between the lot of them.

First, it was necessary to confirm to those gathered that they were, in fact, on the USS Theurgy.  Setting aside the gasps, however, he had moved to assure them that renegade or not, the crew had agreed to pick up where the Endeavour had left off, for the time being, and would attempt to pursue the Borg.  Beyond that, he could offer them no certainties, no guarantees-- only platitudes and reassurances that the senior officers would do everything to ensure their safety and well being.

To that end, Vael took the initiative to coordinate with the Theurgy's quartermaster, arranging for a handful of unused quarters in which to house his own crewmates.  He doubted there was much reason to argue over his request for the quarters to be in close proximity... it gave the Theurgy security teams a reasonable area to monitor and it gave Vael an equally reasonable area to keep track of.  He was the one at the disadvantage, however, given the unfamiliar territory of the ship and the lack of manpower he possessed in comparison to the Theurgy itself, even if only a single vector.

After dutifully logging the location and well being of each crewman in the PADD that he'd simply refused to let out of his grip after it had been given to him earlier, he had tracked down the commander in order to provide a report and, in the hopes of getting some insight as to Kobol 's well-being in sickbay.

His duties done, though, he dared to secure himself an hour to himself, and although he wished for a real shower rather than a turn under the sonic shower, it was sufficient to wash away the imperceptible aura of the runabout and all the associated proximity it had entailed for the past few days.  Once more presentable, if not thoroughly refreshed, he'd managed to secure a quiet meal and a cup of tea before an alert from the bridge drew his attention. 

Could they have tracked down their quarry this quickly?  He took a deep breath, casting aside his nerves to find the quiet center that he relied on as a final sip of tea passed his lips.  Rising from his seat, he exited the temporary quarters that he'd assigned for himself and made a course for the Battle Bridge, certain the other Endeavour officers would likely be there.

[CPO Eun Sae Ji | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | Fighter Assault Bay | USS Theurgy]
@Auctor Lucan

Five hours.

Five fucking hours of work.

Ji slumped inside the Auxiliary office for a moment.  She had her arms folded on the desk in front of her and she rested.  Her eyes were closed, head turned to the side for a moment.  Hair covering half her face as she rested there for a moment.  She had promised herself that she was only going to close her eyes for a minute.  Just one of them, you know, the kind of thing to just reset your body just a little bit before she could get back to her job.  She had spent the last hours, since the meeting, working hard getting every fighter as ready as fast as possible.  She had run diagnostic after diagnostic.  Tweaked this and that, anything that was even remotely getting to that 'maybe we should replace this point' was replaced.  She had rerouted power where necessary, checked all the wires, done everything she could think of and spent more time with Liam.

The sound of a cup being placed on the desk in front of her made her jump.  She sat up with a start, dark eyes opening as she looked up to find the face of Jeff... one of her boys there with a grin on his face.  “Caught you, boss.”

She grumbled something unintelligible that was likely a curse as she ran a hand across her chin to remove any traitorous drool that might have made it's way out while she caught her cat nap.  Jeff's large mechanic's hand slid the cup closer to her so that the smell of fresh coffee would hit her nose for a moment and she grunted again.  Apparently, she was nonverbal for the moment.  Her hand dropped and took the cup in it raising it to her lips she took a long sip, a gulp, and another before she put it down.  Wincing as the heat seared her throat, but she didn't care.  It was worth it. 

Besides we may not live the day.

She shook the thought out of her mind.  “Where's Liam?” she asked, her first thought, of course was him.  She wasn't sure what today would actually bring but she wanted to make sure that she was fighting beside him as they had last time.  It didn't seem that long ago .. but then again, it seemed like forever ago that she, Liam, and the others had fought for their fighter bay and the people on it. 

“Dunno.”  Jeff shrugged.

“Amazingly helpful, thank you Jeff.” she said sarcastically as she rose up and brushed some of the wrinkles out of her yellow work suit.  None of them smoothed out, they were set from hours of hard work and apparently … as she glanced at the chronometer, fifteen minutes of hard sleeping. 

“Any time, Chief.” he grinned with a chuckle and headed out of the office.

Ji took up her life blood – coffee- and headed out of the office into the hustle and bustle of the Fighter Assault Bay.  Everything gleamed.  When she had finished working on the fighter she and her boys had made sure they were cleaned, polished, shined, and beautiful.  She was not going to have her pilots fighting in fighters that were grungy and soot stained.  The deck was never cleaner than it was right now. 

Her dark eyes shifted around the deck, coffee in hand, a sip taken, to locate the familiar backside of one Liam Herrold.  She knew it well, the planes of it, the muscles.  The way that he stood, his stance, the way his shoulders set.  The ease of his eyes when he saw her.  She knew her eyes, likely, did the same thing when she saw him too.  She spotted him, in his work suit not all that far away.  She could feel a smile crossing her face as she watched him. 

Heading over to him, she knew that they were getting close to action time, she was afraid.  What if something happened to Liam, what if something happened to her?  What if after today, where they planned to run into the Borg, they didn't get to see each other again.  Ji was fairly formal when it came to being on deck.  She didn't often give Liam her affections in public because she felt it was far more professional and she tried to keep the two lives separate.  Today though, she didn't care. 

Yellow Alert. 

It was time.  Time for fighting, for inevitable death, or at least a hard day.  She slid her arm around his waist and leaned against him.  Was it a good time for this?  No.  Did she give a shit?  No.  She was going to take the minute with Liam while she had it before all hell broke loose.

“Are you ready?” she asked looking up at him with her dark eyes.  “Coffee?” she offered him her own cup incase he needed a sip or two she had no worries about sharing with him because they had shared far more things than that.

[ Dr. Amelya Rez | Primary Surgical Suite | CMO Office | Main Sickbay | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan  @Doc M. 

The ordeal of keeping nicander on the brink of life took five long hours for the medical staff. Somem inor setbacks were made yet Amelya wondered if the Câroon man could actually die with the parasite inside of him. She had taken the oportunity to 'rummage' around in the good doctor's body while they performed surgery, in the hopes to physically notice or see the parasite inside him, yet this was to no avail. In turn it was an interesting note to add to the file. After the organ damage had been patched up as good as it could, Amelya had given Maya some rest as the procedure was generally exhausting. A break was most definitely most deserved, yet she imagined the Vulcan would not leave the suite in case she was needed back at the table. The Niger doctor, mister Kobol  had also still been present and now and again some small talk was delivered, though mostly they focused those long five hours on the surgery at hand.

Security had been cycling, yet after two hours they sort of became part of the scenery and no longer the distraction the medical staff didn't need. Rez closed up the last of the dermal tissue on Nicander's new prosthetic. It looked leaner than a usual prosthetic as muscle mass was diminished to a minimum. No need to add more muscle mass than that as the patient had been known to be extremely violent. Regardless, he could still do some fatal damage with the newly acquired limb, yet not as much as he could before. It was a bit ironic though... Amelya's eyes darted up to Jovela as she didn't respond to a request she made, the eyes of the blonde doctor turning to Nicander's face as she heard the all too familiar voice. Here eyes looked at his face as she raised her hands instinctively as Varder Ridun, one of the security staff in the room warned them about lowered the force field and indicated them to get out. Amelya's breathing accelerated lightly yet she never broke eye contact with Nicander as he tried to speak. Unsure who had stepped out or not, Amelya remained where she stood, placing her tools down on the tray besides her before she raised her hand for Security.

"Take your positions but don't fire yet!" she said to them, she removed her head mask, so it would be easier for her patient to understand her as she tapped the controls on the surgical bed, restraining Nicander at his legs, arms and waist. Regardless, if he'd lash out or anything he'd feel the pain, not that it would stop him probably. Her hand snaked behind her to get the inoculation device which contained the sedatives "What are you trying to say?" she asked in a soft, yet lowered voice to Nicander as she narrowed her eyes at him. Though the features on her face didn't show the fear or resentment she had displayed before when the roles were turned around not that long ago.

She blanked out the turmoil in the room, the people who would call out to her or Nicander, the chaos that was presumably unfolding behind her. Right now, there was only him and her. If anything else, this might've just been one of Jona's little tricks she thought to herself as a faint smile covered her lips as she steadied herself for whatever would possibly happen.

[ Lt. Commander Wenn Cinn (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Wenn_Cinn) | Battle Bridge | Deck 01 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ]
[Show/Hide]Listening to his Science Officer, this Human that he knew as a hero to the Bajoran people during the Dominion War, Wenn Cinn had remained in his chair, watching the supernova remnant's heart on the viewscreen. His dark countenance held a frown above the ridges of his nose, because he did not know what to expect - the answers of all their questions yet to be revealed. As it were, they still knew nothing.

"Yellow Alert," he said, and he rose to his full height in front of the command chair. "All all hands to battle stations, at the ready for whatever awaits. Indeed, let our guests come here. Henshaw, I want half the squadron out there doing recognisance ahead of us, the rest ready to launch in defence of this Vector."

Slowly, Wenn Cinn stepped forward, towering behind the backs of the seated Junior Lieutenant Nator and Ensign Thorne. His eyes told him nothing, looking at the lights at the heart of the nebula. The shockwave of the supernova had left his area centuries past, and what remained was particles drifting in inertia, just like in the rest of the Azure Nebula. Here, however, the gamma radiation would be higher, whence the cosmic rays had sprung. He was a soldier, and not a scientist, but he had paid attention in the Academy, so many years ago. Knowledge was key to survival, for if there was one thing that had kept him alive during the Bajoran Occupation, it was knowledge. Foreknowledge of Cardassian troop movements, and knowing who to trust - learning who could be Collaborators and who pretended to inform the Resistance.

This mystery shrouded in the clouds of the nebula... It eluded him, and he loathed it.

Tyreke Okafor had suggested scans, and few other options at hand, that's what they'd do. "We may be in close proximity of a hidden enemy," he said, his deep voice carrying on the bridge while people filed in to take their seats and positions, the guests from the Endeavour included. "Our survival is pinned on finding where the enemy is before it may find us. The word is free. Between us all, we should be able to see what's not there, theorise what may have cause the Borg to come through here, and whether or not the warp trail ought to have continued on the other side. Did it dissipate beyond this point, or it this where it began?"

In the past five hours, Cinn had yet to set aside time to visit or speak with Rez, this new host of the woman he'd lost. She been preforming surgery on Nicander, this old 'friend' he'd trusted. He still felt the sting of betrayal, and he had not even reconciled with the fact that he'd chosen to follow the trail rather than reintegrate with the other Vectors. He remained conflicted about abandoning any chance to save the abducted crew from the Savi, even if the Sword had detailed scans of the Versant. He had even made the call in conflict with Captain Ives' last order, to continue the mission, and he felt a traitor to his Captain, even if he thought Ives would understand. Jien had fought the wars of Starfleet, and knew the Borg.

So, as he stood there, at the end of the path he'd chosen for his crew, Cinn sought confidence in an old sentiment of his, that a direct threat was more easily addressed than an indirect one.

"Our sensors may just tell us so much, but we are capable of understanding what might yet be there, even if it's not seen."

As always, in the back of his head, the thought returned to him yet again. Was this the reason the Prophets brought me back?

---

OOC: More posts to come today from other POVs, yet since 7 days passed and chXinya was too busy IRL to post with Wenn Cinn, I had to step in as GM to progress the story. No worries about that, but I hope everyone have the time to post with their characters on the bridge, in the fighter bay and the CMO office. :) See my previous post's OOC message for orientation, and post away!

[ CPO Liam Herrold (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Liam_Herrold) | Fighter Assault Bay | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ]
[Show/Hide]The Lone Wolves, such as they currently were, had their fighters prepped and ready for launch. Most of them had been sitting on their hands in wait for this pending engagement with the Borg, but Liam had heard they put their hands to better uses whilst they still had the chance.

As for himself? Wherever his hands may and may not have been, he and his weapons technicans had taken on the full consequences of the Valravn fighters being prototypes, changing out the emitter housings on all the old White Wolves' fighters to keep them from overheating and turning the fuselages into overgrown microwave ovens. Luckily, some of them had been taken care of between the last engagement and this one. Unfortunately, one of the Valravns had taken a nasty hit from a tricobalt shock-wave, the subspace tear nearly warping the entire frame out of shape, but as it were, the shields had spared all save for a wing, which had been so bent five people including himself had to use the "big" tools at their disposal to try and bend the wing back. They still hadn't been able to finish it, and Terror - the Andorian pilot that flew it - and her RIO were not impressed with only having functioning phaser arrays on one side of the fighter.

It left him catching his breath, Terror stalking off with her antennae twisting, but to soothe his sore body and ears, Ji came along, and right then, spent as he was - with his jumpsuit open and sweat beading his brow - her presence and the coffee was more than welcome.

"As ready as one can be, I guess. Thanks," he said. and put his free hand on her opposite shoulder. He might have gone for a cold drink instead, but if it was delivered by Ji, he really couldn't complain. It certainly seemed like the reality of the situation had dawned on her too, for she was keen on being close to him, even if they should stay professional in the fighter bay. He drank the coffee, but couldn't keep himself from checking where Covington was. For since Ji told him what he'd done to her, he had started to wonder what the old Chief might do or say when he saw them together. Oh, he didn't think Ji was being openly affectionate towards him to spite Covington, making him jealous, even if it might seem that way. Liam was merely worried about getting both Ji and himself into trouble needlessly.

"Hey, let's go to the weapon storag-," he began to say, to make her let go and to go somewhere more private, but that's when the Squadron Commanding Officer came to the fighter bay, with orders, no doubt...

---

OOC: Cue @Nolan ! :)

[ Lt. Simon Tovarek | Battle Bridge | Deck 01 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ]

Tovarek arrived at the bridge moments after the yellow alert had been sounded. His eyes scanning around at those gathered already before he took his place besides Cinn. He looked at the viewscreen and let out a soft sigh as he whispered to the captain "I've worked on some ideas in case we run into the Borg. Some might seem... Crude." he paused as he looked at the tall dark man before looking back at the screen "Yet I believe it'll buy us some time." he nodded as he looked over at the science station. "Mr Okafor, inform me if anything out of the ordinary shows up on scans." he said to the current CSO.

In the meantime Simon walked around on the bridge inspecting the various screens and panels as the bridge crew worked ahead. He stopped at Henshaw's station as she was relaying her order to Thomas Ravon. Who'd undoubtedly be thrilled at the new set of orders given. Heshaw seemed calm, yet her trembling hands would be the only thing that would give her away. Simon simply placed his hand on her shoulder and gave her a reassuring nod. The yellow lights around them flashed further as Simon peered into the distance on the screen in front of him. It was as if he was trying to spot anything before the scanners would. Which was unlikely...

The choice to hunt for the Borg had been an uneasy one, even for Simon. Whilst he could work the scans performed on the Versant and studied the weapons and shield technology they had, it all paled when facing the Borg. Anything they had picked up so far would be futile against them. He had skimmed over the logs of Voyager that were stored in the library and made notes on how to tackle a Borg threat. Yet it wasn't much to go on. Perhaps they had chosen the wrong way, yet now would be too late to reconsider. They had positioned themselves here, in the heart of the Nebula.

[ Lt Cmdr Thomas Ravon | Fighter Assault Bay | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Havenborn , @Triage , @Triton , @Multificionado

As the yellow alert claxon sounded twice in the fighter assault bay the pilots scrambled to their fighters or to the locker rooms in order to get readied up. The pack leader had already been in his flight suit and was carrying his helmet in his left hand as he walked over to Ji and Herrold "Hey, nice job on that Valravn." he complimented Herrold before he looked at the coffee Ji had brought for the both of them and he wondered if he interrupted anything special "Did you manage to outfit the fighters to pilot specifications?" he continued regardless "Half of the squadron will be making a sortie, so if some of them aren't ready, I need to know now." he said seriously. He didn't mean to come across like an arrogant flyboy, though he pretty much sounded like it. The look on his face was stern, yet mixed with concentration and determination. "Whichever aren't ready, I want them ready yesterday. I need every ship that can fly and fire out there!"

After hearing what he needed to hear from the techs he nodded and waved them off shortly before turning around to walk to his fighter. He stepped up to the canopy and looked around the rest of the outfitted fighters "Look alive you bunch of rag tags!" he shouted to the pilots who were scrambling to get ready "Rawley, Havenborn, Tancredi, Garcia! Get in those fighters and rally up on me! Rapid departure, formation Zero Seven Six once we're out there. Make me proud and don't fucking screw up! There are people on this ship that are counting on you." he said as his voice boomed over the fighter bay like Sten's voice would. He simply nodded with at Tessa as he wanted to give her a break considering the fragile mental state she'd been in. Personally though, he'd fly out with the squadron on this deranged mission. It was his job and he felt somewhat personally responsible for the trail he had set them upon.

He looked down at his wing as the desired armaments of quantum torpedoes and additional photon torpedoes were mounted on his wolf "Let's roll Kestrel." he tapped against the side of his ship before he jumped in and waited for the ship to be cleared for departure. Once the flight deck had been cleared, Thomas throttled up and bursted out of Sword as the first fighter. Using TVD he looked around to get his bearings and waited for the rest of his broken pack to fall in. He plotted the course they'd follow to sniff out any resistance. "Theurgy, this is Razor, we'll scout ahead and inform you of any abnormalities when we see them." once he had his pilots with him he took the lead "Weapons hot, call out if you spot anything, keep the chatter to a minimum. Stick close and lets get our asses home in one piece together. Razor out."

[ Lt. JG Evelyn Rawley | Fighter Assault Bay | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Nolan @Auctor Lucan @Triage @Triton @Havenborn
[Show/Hide]

Rawley had been spending three hours around her fighter. She never returned to her quarters, just stayed near her fighter. She was geared up and ready to go, she was so itching. Her flight suit was on and she kept making checks. She was so anxious to fly again, so certain that her throat was better, she stayed near her fighter, flight suit on, in the event of the fighters scrambled.

Whenever she wasn’t triple checking her fighter’s condition, she was pondering on what to do if and when they encountered the Borg. Or she just napped in the cockpit; she didn't want to go to her quarters. She felt the need to be on hand when the action began.

So, naturally, she snapped at attention at the yellow alert claxon. And when Razor stepped in, loaded for bear as much as she was, she knew what was going to happen. Thomas Ravon never looked so grander as he stepped onto the canopy, despite there not being any St. Crispin’s Day style speech.

“Look alive you bunch of rag tags!"

Rawley smiled. That's definitely the Ravon she knew.

"Rawley, Havenborn, Tancredi, Garcia! Get in those fighters and rally up on me! Rapid departure, formation Zero Seven Six once we're out there.”

She smiled wider in that she was going out there, following him out, with Meony along for the ride. And she will make him proud, most definitely. She will not let him down.

She noticed Ravon’s nod at Goldeneye. Rawley had a feeling she’d be staying behind. True, she was as scared of the Borg as Goldeneye was, but she didn’t break down. Rawley was strong, and tougher than she looked. People tend to underestimate the small woman, but Rawley would easily give Boudicca a run for her money.

She piled into her fighter. Cor, she had missed being behind the cockpit. She followed Ravon out of the hangar, and blimey, it was hard to miss it, let alone hard to not follow it. Whatever he did to that bird, she had an admiration. She wished she’d make her fighter that bad-arse.

"Weapons hot, call out if you spot anything, keep the chatter to a minimum. Stick close and let’s get our asses home in one piece together. Razor out."

“Ghost to Razor, acknowledged,” Rawley answered. Her intuition told her this was the scouting mission she had hoped for. Just not in the way she had expected, but at least the “Sword” was closer than ever, and it’s a bloody long time in a cockpit without a sonic shower or some grub.

She looked up, keeping her eye out for anything. It occurred to her that this particular neck of the woods was different from the rest of the Azure Nebula. Her intuition told her they were in the center of the nebula. Rawley was no science officer; cor, she was no specialist on astral bodies, neither, but she wondered if it’s possible that the Borg was harvesting some kind of power source here. A transwarp conduit powered by sirilium sounded more likely, given their ability to do so in the past.

All the same, she knew the Borg was around here somewhere, somewhere in the heart of the Azure Nebula. Whatever the Wolves would find there was bound to be bonkers.

[ Lt. Kai Akoni |Battle Bridge | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy] @steelphoenix @Top Hat @Mathis @Auctor Lucan @CanadianVet @patches @chXinya

After Kai and Lt. Cmdr. Kaeris had collected the civillians from the brig and explained to them what was happening, they had been assigned quarters and had what appeared to be some down time. Kai was pretty happy with this as he was looking forward to a shower. Even if it was a sonic shower, it’d be nice to clean the grime and everything off of him. Not to mention a new uniform would feel like a treat after the last few days.

Kai was in the sonic shower as the grime and sweat and blood was being removed from his skin. It was so relaxing for Kai that he had begun to daydream…or in this case, a very bad dream. His mind raced back to when the Borg attacked the Endeavour. He began replaying his steps over and over in his head, wondering what if…wondering if he could have saved his best friend or his girlfriend. Not only did he grieve for them, he grieved for all the lost Endeavour crew. Kai wondered why he survived and they didn’t and what made him so special to keep living. Kai’s thoughts, which could be described as a mix of survivor’s guilt and post-traumatic stress syndrome were punctuated by the sonic shower shutting off and the computer announcing the sonic shower cycle had completed.

With that, Kai stepped out and made his way to the new uniform he had replicated before stepping into the shower. He then put the uniform on; it was the same type of uniform he had always worn. The replicator pattern was exactly identical; yet it still felt different.

After he put the uniform on he looked at himself in the mirror and sighed to himself.

Almost like it didn’t happen He thought to himself, but the other memories he had reminded him that it had indeed happened.

[Yellow Alert] came the voice through the comm system.

Once Kai had heard this, he made his way out of his quarters and towards the nearest turbolift. Once he was in the turbolift and on his way to the bridge, his thoughts wandered; not to being scared, but to revenge on the Borg. Either way, Kai was certain he would face them again.

[ Dr. Nicander (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Dr._Lucan_cin_Nicander) | Primary Surgical Suite | CMO Office | Main Sickbay | USS Theurgy ]
[Show/Hide]Instead of reaching for her with his tattooed hand, to stop Rez from leaving and resorting to the prudent fear of his awakening, Lucan found his new hand pushed into the biobed's metallic restraint - the thick cuff clasping around his wrist. There was a lot of commotion in the scourged room, and his entire body was restrained by the security measures of the bed. The forcefield shimmered out of existence, allowing for the escape the medical officers working on him. He spotted Jovela bolting away from his side...

...but Amelya Rez remained.

She met his eye, as if he was the man he'd pretended to be for all those bygone years. So recently awaken, he was compelled to seek forgiveness already. But he couldn't. He shouldn't. There were other things he had to say. It was at the tip of his tongue, but the abyss sought to quench his will with doubt. You were a murderer before we found you! it screeched, and Lucan pressed his pale eyes shut, meaning to ward his mind from the blighting words. So who do you think you are? The good doctor they have come to love and now hate? It was all a deception, hiding your true ambitions! The person you were to them never existed, which means the person you seek to be isn't even real. You were merely perpetuating a farce every waking hour! A never-ending charade!

Lucan shook his head, his face contorted, twisted in faltering defiance. "Listen..."

You were your own prince charming in a fairy-tale of lies!

"This Cycle... It is lost..." he managed, opening his eyes, trying not to to think about the implications of what the darkness said.

No matter how many times you lied, you still know the truth. You can't be what they want you to be.

"We can't undo them, can't stop them from happening..." he said, through clenched teeth, tears in his eyes..

Be silent! Nothing you say will make a difference. It is too late already. Surrender, for you can't give them what they need.

"But we can..." he said, breathing hard, closing his eyes. No, there was darkness there.

There is nothing you can do. You're ours!

He opened his eyes wide, letting the artificial light in the surgery suite into his irises, staring at Rez and beseeching her to listen, panting hard, the beeping of his elevated heart rate thunderous noise in his ears. "We can still fight! We must weaponize the light!"

You have already lost. The seeds of war have already been planted. There is naught more to do than watch it all unfold.

"The Radiant!" She clung to the words, to what he had to say, for he had to say it now. "She brought me back... McMillan! She can... her wavelength... Her abilities... She is one of them... One of those left behind... to ward us from it... The Radiants... They... and others... the lost races... the ones yet alive... they could do it... They have not forgotten... She doesn't know... She doesn't know!"

She didn't bring you back. You are a construct of insanity. An excuse to live with yourself. A lie manifest.

"It's still inside me," he rasped through his teeth, face twisted. "Please... I am weak... I need... I need..."

You need to surrender, for this is futile. The Borg will come, and this bag of blood and feces will become theirs.

"Epinephrine... Adrenaline..." he choked on the word, the hormone he sought acting as a neurotransmitter for his strength.

And they... will become ours.

His eyes widened. "The Bo- Borg. They know. They know... They meant to have me assimilated... They will come... They are on the way... All of them.... All of them!"

[ Tessa May Lance, callsign:  Goldeneye (http://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Tessa_May_Lance,_callsign_%22Goldeneye%22) | Fighter Assault Bay | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ]  Attn: @Nolan, @Auctor Lucan, @Havenborn, @Multificionado, @Even Angels Cry, @Jm Von Cat , @Blue Zephyr, @Masorin,  @Triage.

Staggering into the fighter assault bay was the tottering and unsteady form of Wolf-03, Lieutenant (junior grade) Tessa May Lance, callsign Goldeneye.  Her cheeks were flush, her topaz yellow eyes were unfocused and the armoa from her breath was familiar to anyone who considered themselves a connasiour of hard liquor.  It was evident that when confronted with the prospect of having to confront the unstoppable threats of the Borg, the Savi, and Starfleet, the only way she could convince herself to show up for duty was to fortify herself with liquid courage.  It was painfully obvious that sythohol wasn’t an ingredient in any of the drinks she had ingested since the announcement that the Sword was heading out after the Borg.

“We’ve been banned from Argo everyone…” she sang slightly off-key as Thomas gave her a friendly nod.  “We’ve been banned from Argo just for having a little fun…”

Tessa screamed when the yellow alert klaxon went off.

"Look alive you bunch of rag tags!" Ravon shouted.  "Rawley, Havenborn, Tancredi, Garcia! Get in those fighters and rally up on me! Rapid departure, formation Zero Seven Six once we're out there. Make me proud and don't fucking screw up!  There are people on this ship that are counting on you."

---

[ Maya (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Dr._Maya) | Medical Lounge | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy  | 2300 hrs. ] Attn: @Nolan @patches, @Mathis @Jm Von Cat @CanadianVet

In the medical lounge across the corridor from Main Sickbay Doctor Maya of Vulcan was staring off into space.   After all of the hours she had put in surgery the little Vulcan had decided that it was necessary to retreat to the medical lounge to meditate in order to insure that her hands wouldn’t shake.  By locating herself in the medical lounge rather than her quarters she remained “on call” at a moment’s notice.  Of course, sitting quietly by herself without responding to stimuli wasn’t reassuring for any other medical personnel who took a break in the medical lounge, particularly anyone who still considered Maya a security risk. 

When the indicators near the door flashed yellow to indicate a yellow alert, Maya’s large hazel eyes blinked twice.  The little Vulcan then rose from her chair in an eerily fluid way and glided out of the lounge to return to duty.

[CPO Eun Sae Ji | Fighter Assault Bay | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy]
@Nolan @Auctor Lucan

The fighter that Liam had been working on looked a shit ton better than it had before his team had gotten ahold of it.  She had been working and commanding other parts of the deck and let him and his crew take care of untwisting and straightening out the metal that had been warped by the horrible attack that had only happened .. recently.  The days blurred together heavily, she knew that she and Liam should be here, being professional, and keeping a distance between them.  But today was the day they were going after the Borg and honestly she didn't give two shits what anyone thought of her or them today.  Tomorrow, when they survived, they could go back to cool professionalism on the deck but for right now she doubted that anyone would blame them for any moment of just being together and knowing that this day would be a hard day.

His hand came onto her shoulder and she smirked slightly.  A solitary front, she had fought beside this man, and made love to this man, and learned new things with this man.  They shared passions, they shared likes and dislikes.  They explored food together and honestly.. she wanted to explore the universe with him.  Though, she wasn't going to be something she would just up and admit.  Slow and gentle was the name of the game right now.  While her heart wanted to race forward, her mind reminded her that they were both people with hectic and stressful jobs.  Being able to find release in one another was nice but making it another catalyst for pressure in their lives would do nothing but poison the relationship.

Unlike him, her mind hadn't really touched on the thought of Covington, she didn't care what the man thought of them anyway.  He had missed his chance, and he was likely with someone else anyway and she couldn't care less whether he was or wasn't.  Liam took the coffee and they both just studied his handy work.  The weapons on that wing wouldn't work and they didn't have the time to get them into order before they would be needed.  Likely the reason for the angry twitching Andorian that had stormed off right before Ji got there. 

Suddenly, Liam asked if she would go to weapons storage but never quite finished because Ravon came on board.  She looked over her shoulder and sighed.  So much for a minute alone, to be expected I think, though.  We're about to jump into battle.  I hope everyone makes it, I never wanted to go after the Borg.  She knew her opinions on the matter didn't really hold any importance to the decision makers and too many people had preferred to go after the borg.  She hadn't, she wanted to go after the other Vectors.  That was what they were supposed to do not go off on a suicide mission.  Her heart skipped a beat at the mere thought of losing the people that were important to her.  Her friends, the people on her deck, Liam.

Ravon was there and came directly at the pair.  Ji was much shorter than Liam but she liked that dynamic for them.  Her eyes shifted over to the Lieutenant Commander that was asking questions.  “They're as ready as they're going to be.  We've been pushing it for about five hours and getting everything prepped.  Prop and power are stable, we replaced a lot of systems that were on the verge of or already fucked over because of previous fights and the damage they had taken.  They should be stable and ready to go at any rate.  This isn't going to be an easy fight, but they're as ready as they can be.” she gave a slight shrug of her shoulders.

Ravon began screaming out orders at his people and then got into his own fighter.  She had Rav had gotten to know each other a little bit.  But on and off duty they were different people.  She still wanted to go to one of his poker games at some point.  Though she might bring Liam too, because there was never a time she wouldn't enjoy reasons to get him naked.  Though she didn't share, and if that was going to be a problem then maybe they'd have to play poker between the two of them instead.  She shifted her eyes back to Liam.

“Still need some consult in the Weapons Storage?” She asked with a soft smile on her face her brow rose.

“The Theurgy ain't mah ship. Her crew ain't mahn. They're mah family. An' there ain't nothin' come hell or hah wahter that Ah won't do t' protect 'em. Ah'm afraid, but Ah ain't afraid t' dah fer dem. They're worth it. All of 'em.”

[ Ens. Krystal "Meony" Tancredi (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Krystal_Tancredi,_callsign_%22Meony%22) | Fighter Assault Bay | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan, @Nolan, @Havenborn, @Jm Von Cat, @Blue Zephyr & @Multificionado
[Show/Hide]She felt no remorse, no elation, no excitement, no fear...okay, she felt a little fear. But more than anything, she felt resignation. Her eyes were reddish, and the red rim beneath made no secret something was wrong with her. She wasn't crying, nor had she been crying. The reddish burns below her nostrils hinted at hastily wiped blood, and her glassy vision at the edges said it all. This was going to be her last flight. Assuming the semi-sentient tumour in her brain allowed it, she was going to help the crew of the Theurgy one final time as a Valkyrie pilot. If she survived after that, no way Havenborn, Ravon or Mariner was likely to let her near a fighter until she was healed.

Ever since the Battle of Starbase 84 and the assault on her and Silim Parnak, the coil had been weakening, and she was beginning to bleed randomly from orifices, even from the eyes. The tumour was beginning to win. Before too long, she would die unless they operated and removed the thing, and then there was the matter of whether she'd be left as a vegetable or lose motor functions. If they saw her now, there was a high chance she'd be grounded right away. But Meony was confident she still had one flight left in her, and she wanted to be out there with the Wolves. There were too few of them left, and as Thomas Ravon said, people on the ship were counting on them. She knew she could do this much. What was she worth if she couldn't fly?

So that was why when she trailed in with Thomas, she was fully suited, with her helmet on, and her hat hanging behind her neck.

She looked over at Rawley, then at Havenborn, and gave them both a thumbs up, before heading over to stand near Tessa. It seemed like despite anything, the woman was still in a sorry state. After listening to Thomas's pep talk, she winced at Tessa screaming. Despite the protection of her helmet, she believed she felt the effects of the scream. Planting a gauntleted hand lightly on the woman's shoulder, she said, “Hey there, hon...” she hesitated to ask how the woman was doing, since even a blind man could tell she wasn't okay, “...lissen, just...stay with us, oh-kay? Ah've got yer back. And Ah always will, one way or another, ya unnerstand? C'mon, let's flah.”

She walked over to her Valkyrie, the Sassy Slayer, examining it top to bottom, running her hands along the hull and crossed under it to the ladder to the cockpit, and clambered in, making no particular rush. She wanted to savour every moment left. It felt weird, thinking of everything with such finality, but she embraced the reality of the fact. After today, she was not going to be fit for active duty in a fighter. And she was all right with this. At least, she had this one chance. Once the debrief and mandatory physical examination took place, the doctors would see what she already knew was happening inside her skull.

“Hey babe,” said Meony to the Sassy Slayer, careful to ensure her hailing systems were offline. Nobody needed to hear this. “You an' me fer th' last tahm together. We live through this, they'll probably give ya t' somebodeh else. Someone able t' flah. Hope they take care o' ya th' way Ah do.” She rubbed the side of the plating in the cockpit as she settled in and let the canopy seal shut over her. “Ah'm dyin'. Ah know it, Ah cain feel it. But there's a chance t' cure me. Small, tiny chance, but a chance all th' same. Better'n nothin'. But b'fore we get to it, we're doin' this last flaht t'gether, okay? So Ah need all ya got, an' s'more besides. Think ya cain do dat?”

She started up the craft's engines after all her pre-flight checks. She left nothing to chance, even repeating the process and running it through twice to be sure. The Valkyrie hummed and sang like the angel of war that it was. Meony smiled. “That's mah girl. We're gonna do what we do best, and they're gonna talk all about it fer centuries t'come, y'hear me?”

[ Cockpit | AC-409 Mk III Valkyrie, Sassy Slayer | Fighter Assault Bay | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ]

She keyed in a open hail to command tactical, “This is Wolf Oh-Fahve, standin' bah.”

Considering the estimated foes they were up against, Meony had chosen to outfit the Sassy Slayer with an ECM Pod, an additional torpedo launcher on each wing-mounted hard points, one containing EMP torpedoes, the other carrying her favourite, Hellhound Cluster Bombs. The last hard point she equipped with an M-142 RF Mass Driver Twin Mount Turret, set to automatically track targets, making her that much more dangerous and able to target more than one foe at once. She also swapped out one of the standard torpedo launchers' complement to house Mark I Hellbore Torpedoes. She had a feeling the Hellbores were going to be useful.

She watched as the other pilots cleared for launch, led by Thomas Ravon. Taking control of the steering yoke, Meony gently but confidently lifted the Slayer off the deck, and moved into position once it was her turn. She followed the guidance and sequence so precisely, it almost looked mechanical and effortless. She was given the all clear and she pushed her thrusters for a quick departure from the Fighter Bay.

[ Cockpit | AC-409 Mk III Valkyrie, Sassy Slayer | The Infinite Coffin | Azure Nebula ]

Gazing at the sight ahead with a sense of awe and wonder, Meony's mouth hung open within her helmet. “It's beautiful.” She said to herself, her hailing systems off, leaving her in her own company for a moment before Thomas addressed them. “Meony t' Razor, Acknowledged.” was her clipped reply to the flight leader. As ordered, the redhead kept the Sassy Slayer close in a tight formation with Thomas, Evelyn and the rest. No unnecessary heroics, no showboating, no banter. Meony was...not being Meony, for once.

The pros and cons of the Azure Nebula were almost one and the same: It was hard to see anything out here. It was one of the reasons why they chose to hide out in here in the first place. Task Force Archeron and anybody else would have a hard time seeing past their own noses while in here, and pinging on active sensors would give them away like a lighthouse beacon on a foggy night back on ancient Earth. As it was, Meony was actively tracking more on her sensors and HUD for regular and constant updates on the whereabouts of her fellow Wolves when she couldn't make or place them with a canopy inspection. There was a fifty percent chance she'd crash against the hull of Borg cube before she knew it was there. But she had an idea, something she'd seen A'vura and Vivian Martin do back on the Resolve.

“Meony t' Razor,” said the Redhead, making an open message to be heard by all Wolves and the Sword's Tactical Command, “requestin' permission t' flah ahead an' run low res ATS (Advanced Tactical Sensor Suite) scan at max range with high res Standard Nav.”

[ PO2 Kino Taer | Primary Surgical Suite | CMO Office | Main Sickbay | USS Theurgy ] @Nolan @Jm Von Cat @CanadianVet @Auctor Lucan

Kino double checked the seals on her exosuit as the reports of Nicander’s waking and orders for exosuit qualified Security personnel came pouring in over the communications system. She nudged the dozing woman next to her, making sure she was awake if the sudden volume of chatter already hadn’t.

“Come on, sleepyhead. We’re up. Naptime is unfortunately over.”

After grabbing her rifle and checking it, she ambled off from the medical lounge room to where the infested doctor was now housed under what would normally be considered quite excessive amounts of safety measures and restraints. The last time Kino had seen this amount of potential firepower and security in one room, it was during an active combat operation. It was somehow both comforting and mildly distressing. Sickbay was supposed to be one of the safest areas aboard the ship and explicitly non-combatant in nature.

Naturally, there was already plenty of shouting going on and a mild panic among the medical personnel present as Ridun ordered them to clear out so that Security could ensure proper containment and safety. Interestingly, one of the doctors stayed next to Nicander.

Is that … Rez? Dr. Rez? What is she doing?

Signaling her intention to approach the pair to the other Security officers, Kino slowly walked towards them, her rifle pointed not quite at Nicander but ready nonetheless. She could barely hear him talking to Rez, but he didn’t speak loud enough for anyone else to hear until near the end. Still, his voice was hoarse and it was clear it took a lot out of him.

The Borg? Really? The fucking Borg. Fantastic and we’re actively looking for them too. He doesn’t know that, though.

The Trill tapped on her fellow Trill woman’s shoulder with her left gloved hand, the servomotors in her armor allowing her enough fine-tuned control to make it gentle enough to still get her attention. It was a challenge for her to be within reach for that but also out of immediate for Nicander to potentially seize her or her rifle.

“Doctor Rez, we need to ensure your safety. Would you mind getting back behind the forcefield now?” Her voice made it clear it wasn’t quite the request her words might have otherwise made it seen, the steel underneath showing Kino’s resolve to see it through that Rez moved out of danger.

[ PO2 Eliska Bremmer | Primary Surgical Suite | CMO Office | Main Sickbay | USS Theurgy ] @Nolan @Jm Von Cat @patches @Auctor Lucan

There were worse things than prisoner detail.  And being part of the quick reaction force for a prisoner detail was one of them.  Eliska, and Kino for that matter, had been kept off the guard roster for the monster in Sickbay, but they hadn't been dismissed.  Instead, they had been told to wait up in the medical staff's lounge and be on hand to be a mailed fist should Nicander get uppity.  So, hurry up and wait became the name of the game.  And Bremmer knew how to play it quite well, and she did so by locking her servos, and letting herself fall asleep. 

And she had been woken up.  At first by the voice coming from the comms suite, and then from Kino as she shook her shoulder.  So it was time.  Game on.

Following her colleagues through the corridor and into the surgical suite, Bremmer pushed her way forward through them all.  There was a lot of talent in Theurgy's security team, but so far as she knew, she was the only one with the combination of close-protection training and ACS; which meant her place was close to the monster, and hopefully with a clear shot. 

But the monster was conscious, and rambling.  And one doctor remained way too close for comfort, and while Taer went to get her to move, Bremmer went around the head of the bed and raised the muzzle of her rifle towards the crown of his head.  "Settle. Down."  Her voice was flat, cold.  "Settle down, or we'll see if your little friend can keep you kicking even without a head."

But there was something he said that gave Bremmer pause.  Radiants?  MacMillan?  What in the world was he talking about?  What didn't this little scientist not know? 

And the Borg?  Were they the 'they' he was on about?  Or the monsters inside him? 

"Slow the fuck down," growled Bremmer, "deep breath and make some sense!" 

[ Lt JG Nator 159 | Battle Bridge | Deck 01 | The Sword ] Attn: bridge-present folk

The Hermat's eyes felt a little raw around the edges, but s/he was alert in hir seat as s/he monitored the ship's systems while they travelled. Somewhat selfishly, s/he looked forward to the Vectors' reunion so s/he could wait for Stark to find the logs that betrayed the fact that not only had Nator worked as long as s/he asserted s/he could, but that neither s/he nor the department had collapsed while s/he had done so. Apart from a quick break in the middle for a three-minute sonic shower and a 'meal' that mostly consisted of a replicated shoulder of terran ham, s/he hadn't left hir post but for the Futility Committee in the middle.

Three hours of my life I'm not getting back, Nator considered sourly.

The leather of the centre seat creaked as the captain stood, issuing the Word:

"Yellow Alert."

Dutifully, though not without a certain trepidation, Nator punched in the command. The lights dimmed somewhat, a klaxon sounded twice as an audible reminder before falling silent again, and the background hum of machinery deeper in the hull changed subtly as power redistributed around the ship and various generators spun up or down as needed.

"Systems ready, Captain," s/he reported, leaving the 'as they're going to be' unsaid.

Nator was somewhat surprised to find hirself as sanguine as s/he felt. S/he seemed to be entering a philosophical stage of coping with hir trauma; hir wound should rightly have been fatal, so everything that happened after was bonus time. Idly, and not for the first time, s/he wondered what the Borg might do with hir. To hir knowledge, no Hermat had ever encountered the Collective - would s/he be deemed a suitable assimilation candidate? Or would hir hyperactive metabolism and short (unaugmented?) life span count against hir?

Keeping one eye on the sensor returns, piggy-backing the Science station feed in one spare corner of hir console, it seemed s/he would be granted a little more time to consider the question. The trail ended in clear space. Casting another glance around the compartment, s/he tried to place to whom the new scents in the room belonged; those at least s/he still had a memory for. Matching them to their accompanying faces, however, was the rub. Focus, now. It didn't matter. There had been no trouble from their guests - well, with one exception - once the fuss of their arrival had been dealt with. If they'd been cleared to access the bridge, s/he wasn't about to argue. And any insight they could provide, having already encountered the Borg in this region, would be better than their absence.

A deep breath.

[ Lt. (J.G.) Alessia "Angel" Garcia (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Alessia_Garcia,_callsign_%22Angel%22) | Fighter Assault Bay | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] [size=10]Attn: @Auctor Lucan, @Nolan, @Havenborn, @Jm Von Cat, @Blue Zephyr & @Multificionado[/size]
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"All wolves, rally up. Grab your weapons from your fighters and meet me at the hangar deck. Double time. Ravon out." Alessia missed the familiar security of a good Type-3 Phaser rifle in hand, a sensation amplified by her armored combat outfit. Alessia Gargia's tour in Starfleet Security made her familiar with to the ‘sniper’ configuration in particular, she was motivated by her new outlook on life: Revenge.

Alessia’s gaze hardened as the Captain of the Runabout threatened to blow up the Fighter Assault bay and everyone aboard. Hijo de pu… she murmured something unpleasant to herself, taking aim squarely at where the CO of the ship ought to be, given her many hours in Danube-craft before. Past the deuterium-tritanium hull and shielding, there was little she could do but hold her fire and look tough. Honestly, she doubted this kamikaze would have his way.

If given the chance to shoot through the shielding and hull, she would have blasted that skipper’s hand back to Mars (or at least to la chingada. Her sharp gaze told in the intensity of her expression as she heard the familiar footsteps of her RIO, “Fury”, the brunette Latina only lightly tilted her ponytail-with-bangs head at his arrival There was no time for chit-chat, so she nodded at his direction, getting her vision cleared as her French-braid ponytail aligned with her target. “Hey, Vin. Just like Old times, eh, Cabron<tough-guy>?”

“Ever been mistaken for a  real bad-ass, Garcia?” Vinnie joked as he acquired and charged his rifle.

“No. Have you?” Angel quipped back. It was the 100th time she’d used this comeback at him, but had to re-use the joke now and again. “But this loco captain? Who knows.” She closed in on her aim and controlled her breathing as she constructed the Phaser preset fire modes out of muscle memory; to Angel such abilities were as simple as typing without looking. “Bring it on, you fuckers.” She growled as she made the final setting to auto-fire compression bolt setting, instead of beam mode. Just then, one of the younger pilots broke rank and cursed back at the runabout's apparently-suicidal CO.

"Ah dare ya t' come out 'ere an' act lahk Starfleet officers, if ya still got an ounce o' decency left'n ya!"

Whom SCO Ravon summarily relieved from duty.

"How'dja think Ah was gunna react? Asshole trahd t' kill us. Rude fucker. An' t' think Ah was bein' mah most diplmatic too..."

“That Chick’s a badass." Angel chuckled within earshot of her RIO, Sliding to the now-benched Texan hotshot’s loud-mouthing, weapon trained and path carefully selected, as she used her peripherals to secure her colleague's spot.

"If anyone else is feeling trigger happy, know is your time to step out." the SCO boomed. Alessia Nudged Vinnie. The bald Human RIO cracked a half-smirk. The countermeasures the mechanic pulled off upped the ante. But the stand-off didn't last as the occupants were beamed to holding cells. Good, no point in green-on-green misunderstandings.

[ Lt. JG Alessia Garcia, callsign: Angel | USS Niger | Vector 02 | Deck 16 , USS Theurgy Fighter Assault Bay

Without a word, Alessia moved in to secure the Danube. Anyone who'd ever served on one of these ships knew that messing with the datarods between the two control seats was lible to start the self-destruct. It was how she rigged her Kobeyashi Maru simulation when put through it during her Lieutenant's exam. Losing her brother tempered her to the fear of death, and the fear of discommendation by Garcia's own family was already tempering her own outlook on a lot of things. The fear of losing her family permanently weighed heavily on her.

Angel arrived on the scene and got to work sweeping the vessel when arriving on the bridge and checking the Jeffries tube for any hitchhikers, stowaways, or any hint of tracking devices. Her suit’s tricorder didn’t read much. “Clear!” She announced within earshot. Then she holstered her rifle on her back magnetic holster and remotely interfaced with the ship’s databanks and at once sotred a copy on her datapad. She was careful not to trigger any self-delete booby traps. Seeing Husker Slayton take a particularly staggering injury made Angel wince. That looked like it hurt. “Nice going.” Garcia quipped, hardly containing an amused grin. Tali made the right call as far as Angel was concerned, Same with that Texan chick.

"Do you think they are all right" Vinnie quietly asked.

[Show/Hide]
Upon downloading what information she was able to secure from the runabout, opened her padd to see the Borg Evidence for herself to verify contents. Just then, she and the boarding party jolted out after Lt. Cmdr Ravon at the mention of a familiar callsign. Alessia was the last one out, in case it was an ambush, rifle drawn by the time she left, but saw that it was one of their own squadmates. She’d seen the squad mural and identified “Ghost” Rawley from the rendering.

Alessia was reviewing the runabout crew’s personal logs on her Padd, scowling at whan she saw and when Vinnie formed up on her, affirming his desire to work with her.  She raised a fist and bumped it with his in an old Orcus squad salute, but held her gaze on her padd and shared it with him. “Chingada…<Holy Fuck.>[/i] she responded at the sight of what she saw. “Sure. We'll find our people."

Alessia had seen enough at her findings, based on the lowly-toned voice she uttered. “Mind on the mission, Fury.  keep focused and we’ll get our people back; or we’ll do them the courtesy. Better dead than… assimila-ted.” It was a bad joke but one commonly agreed upon by wingmates. Alessia heard how the Borg… created babies. It gave her nightmares best left forgotten.

“Commander, Sir! I found some data from their encounter.“ Alessia approached her CO when a window presented itself between the SCO and Lt. Rawley.  She held out her handheld datapad. “Combat logs, data entries, even the Borg’s last known hull and power read-outs, but given how the bastards regenerate, it’s probably dated. Could give us a firsthand look on their output and kill ‘em with bug-bites. Sir.” She suggested, offering idle hope that they would have a shot in combating the Borg.

[ Three Hours Later | Tactical CONN Briefing Room | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ]

"Our opinions do not matter, the senior staff will voice their opinions to the Captain who will then make a decision.  Our time would be better spent getting prepared for whatever choice the Captain decides to act on."

Garcia agreed. There would always be a risk to pilots in particular, but it was more important to survive, than to die foolishly. It was more important to see bigger picture. In this case, it was making sure there was at least one witness to tell the tale to anyone who could help or vindicate this crew;  rather than let the Borg speak it to anyone left in the Age of the Parasite. She stayed silent at first, letting the hotshots identify themselves.

“If we go, we go in force and cover our tracks as we head home. If Slayton is out there, you know he’ll destroy us if we leave a trail. We’re wolves, not bears. But the Versant’s a whale—all can be killed. The Borg are the plague itself— gotta be wiped out." Garcia affirmed, in the middle of her thirty-eighth sit-up in the most recent in a string of exercises she was routinely seen doing while the command staff debated their next move. "We sure as hell are gonna rip the Borg's own power sockets out and feed it to them for a change. Beyond that, my vote’s on going in force and finding our people and best chance of winning.” For whatever a junior lieutenant's vote could do at this point, even if she was as of now the highest ranking survivor from the Orcus aboard.

"We don't have to engage the Borg. We just need to find where they come from. We can do that, and make it back. Should the order be given, I would gladly fly with Rawley and Tancredi. A Valravn fighter is even faster than a Valkyrie, so if we need to run fast, the old White Wolves are equal to the task."

Before Alessia could shush her RIO just then, the Call came in from the SCO:

"If I may have your attention." Thomas started as he gazed over the audience "Senior staff has decided that we'll be following the warp trail left behind by the Borg." "This means that the fighters are to be combat ready at all times. Furthermore combat patrols will be doubled up. Wolves from this point on we'll be functioning as if we're on yellow alert," he stated before he licked his lips a little, "These will be rough times ahead, so if you have any personal errands to run I'd suggest you do so now.  I want us to be ready for whatever comes our way. Good luck ladies and gentlemen. Dismissed."

Alessia sat up and quit polishing her exo-suit’s knife, making sure it was ready to be used as a last-resort means of losing a limb if it meant avoiding assimilation—if she was lucky. When the order was given by Lt. Cmdr Ravon, Alessia knew the drill and parted with Fury, smirking in relief to be out of the uncertainty of the next hour. She tapped Vinnie and got to work, “Get the Chimaera prepped and ready for launch. I’m gonna check the survival gear and prepare for trouble. Make it double, Fury, go! A chambiar! <Get busy!>."



She’d recently changed the name of her fighter, to reflect her Lion-like attitude and his snakelike calm but remarkably aware sense of surroundings. Together with the stubbornness of rams, their Valravn wore the name proudly, though the paint was still fresh on their fuselage along with their two names and callsigns. Angel and Fury.

FIVE HOURS LATER | 2300 hrs.

[Lt JG Alessia “Angel” Garcia | Fighter Assault Bay | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ]

Five Hours. Five Hours of Combat Air Patrol, maintenance, weapons and fighter-readiness inspection; except for mandatory sleep, shower and a quick, caffeine-injected meal, Alessia was ready for anything at a minute’s notice. Someone on this ship had even managed to upload an authentic Mexican Birria beef stew into the replicator—She’d like to find out who that was, though the familiarity of it took her back to her days on the Hornet.

It was clearly something that had once been homemade at some point, when the new generation of replicators was introduced, Alessia had made every available use to revisit her family’s menu, but the last month had been a most trying one, and she didn’t enjoy food as a luxury onboard the Orcus, while only keeping herself busy, or otherwise routine. Even Capoeira, kickboxing and trips to the phaser range and combat simulator had helped the Latina stay ready to defend herself if that exo suit would help her combat prowess against those zombies. “Assimiate this, Hijos de Cubetas. <sons of buckets>."

The fight-or-flight nature of this last week’s trials and revelations had the Spaniard indulging in some of her old ways as a means to celebrate living while she still could. That’s what made finding Dragon all the more personal. The last Five Hours faded in a haze of dutiful monotony as Angel and Fury both kept their minds on the mission and the chatter to an absolute minimum, apart from flying in formation and reporting information. Fascinating stuff, ultimately, but the almost heavenly backdrop of this nebula might as well have been a black hole of danger.

On the fifth hour, word came in that the warp trail had stopped, and the golden ‘Yellow-Alert’ klaxons buzzed to life. Alessia had caught herself sleeping in her Exo-suit, ready to scramble. Fortunately, she’d showered just before slipping into that after a round at the gym. She took the chance to bathe her muscular yet curvy body with actual water and a steam-room visit, but after a full shift rotation preparing herself entirely for battle, she caught a nap while she could.

Thus Angel was lying in preparation for this moment; and she had the comfort of knowing Vinnie had done the same in time for her preliminary and final pre-launch inspection where she was now, she could see she was more in synch with her RIO than she thought possible. They clinked helmets as they climbed into the newly-recrhistened “Chimaera” emblazoned on their craft. Alessia personally thanked Sten Covington for approving  such a ridiculous favor, but she’d cited the need for new beginnings and would owe him a favor, including maintenance at a later date in return. Alessia had previously inspected every last bit of damage replaced in the Valravn prototype’s hardware and software from stem to stern. She gave a whistle to the deckhand from the Resolve. “Nice job, Liam!” She gave a thumbs-up as her cockpit sealed. The [Chimaera] was spelled correctly under her’s and Fury’s names and callsigns.

[ Cockpit | AC-477 Mk I Valravn | Chimaera (Launching) | Fighter Assault Bay  | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy | Azure Nebula ]

[Wolf 10, Angel, Standing by.] she reported.

” "Look alive you bunch of rag tags! Rawley, Havenborn, Tancredi, Garcia! Get in those fighters and rally up on me! Rapid departure, formation Zero Seven Six once we're out there. Make me proud and don't fucking screw up! There are people on this ship that are counting on you." Lt Cdr Ravon barked orders and Angel was all too ready to acknowledge

[Sero-Seven-Six. Angel, Aye.] Alessia responded. Once her HUD had read all systems were go and her ‘transmission’ channel was set to the Wolves’ secure frequency. She had a short-range one for Fury piped into a secure line.

Customarily before a flight, She made a discreet prayer as her fighter lined up in the bay’s launch queue and made a quick shape of a cross before entering the Azure Nebula with the blessings of the patron saint of travelers.

"Weapons hot, call out if you spot anything, keep the chatter to a minimum. Stick close and let's get our asses home in one piece together. Razor out."

Angel had gotten better at gunnery recently, and had grown increasingly more accurate in fewer, but carefully aimed shots, rather than full automatic salvos, but was not beyond using volley fire charge-up shots on her Valravn’s phaser banks; she would, of course, but always conform to phalanx tactics and fly as safe as she could fight effective, to stay in the fight.

[Copy, Wolf-One.] Alessia texted.

“Fury, Weapons. On-Screen.” Alessia requested as her RIO pulled up the inventory of Chimaera’s short-range photons for knife fight distance or sudden ECM countermeasure alternatives, as well as keeping the more powerful quantum torpedoes on standby for longer-range kills. It turns out that Fury knew how she exactly how the Dominion War taught her, and in their first simulated engagement, he showed a seamless ability to anticipate her warhead loadout, giving her more time to plot vectors and make snap turns. At her command, though, she could unload as much hell as she was cleared to. “Fury, pull up Previous CAP’s phaser output and enable weapons safeties to SCO’s clearance. Let’s not light the fireworks til after the bastardos are lit up." Behind her helmet, Alessia smirked wolfishly.

PO2 Sithick (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Sithick) | Fighter Assault Bay | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan
[Show/Hide]
The last five hours had been an interesting flurry of activity for the Gorn. The saucer had been too large to move, and too blown out to be useful, so it had been up to Sithick and a small crew of other engineers to rip her apart as quickly and safely as possible. The initial pathway had been cleared in under an hour with most of the hull stripped away for parts cutting the saucer into quick and dirty sections.

Now that they had done the deconstruction however came the fun part. Salvage operations were always interesting, parts needed to be taken apart, cataloged quickly scanned, put back together, and it all had to happen with ruthless accuracy. Sithick had never been in charge of an operation like this before, and yet with engineering stretched thin over the three vectors here he was. His history working with ships not just of Federation build, but of Orion and Klingon as well made him an obvious choice to rip apart the foreign technology he had the most varied experience with alien technology.

Even so the saucer was beyond him. Sadly the power core was blown, whatever amounted to fuel, and engines on this ship was long gone, so the omni directional drive a fascinating development was beyond his reach.

Considering his history in weapons however Sithick had taken a keen interest in the Asurian Graviton emitters. The four large eyes of the saucer had been taken out, and sithick had managed to put one of them back together in the alcove of the fighter bay where the Reaver had been prior.

He was working with a few external power supplies, trying to figure out how to get it to turn on so he could scan the process. He was using salvage from two of the other three eyes of the saucer to get one to work, and still having trouble doing so.

If he could manage to fix up even one, and figure out how they were channeling the Graviton particles without creating black holes, or destructive after affects then he had a few ways he was thinking he could apply it, maybe an adjustment to one of the Swords main deflector dish to mirror the capabilities of this thing, or if he was really lucky he could start re constructing a shield formula to help fight off the Graviton lance the Asurian's and Savi were using.

Once they had weapons and shields on par with the savi, they could go back, and get back his lettuce from those aliens.

[ Tessa May Lance, callsign:  Goldeneye (http://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Tessa_May_Lance,_callsign_%22Goldeneye%22) | Fighter Assault Bay | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ]  Attn: @Nolan, @Auctor Lucan, @Havenborn, @Multificionado, @Even Angels Cry, @Jm Von Cat , @Blue Zephyr, @Masorin,  @Triage.

As Tessa searched her cockpit Ravon, Rawley, Havenborn, Tancredi, and Garcia flew off into the black.  Finnally the tipsy pilot found a hyposray that she placed against her neck and activated it, sending a chemical that would harmlessly break up the alchohol molicules in her bloodstream.  She then sat down in the cockpit and waited for the hangar to stop spinning. 

In minutes she was stone cold sober, and she had a sobering thought.  She climbed out of her Valkrie and slowly turned allowing her topaz yellow eyes to drink in a three hundred and sixty degee view of the fighter assault bay.

“Holy smokes, Ravon, Rawley, Haverborn, and Garcia, they all left!” Tessa gasped.  “Until they get back, I’m in the ranking officer!  What was Tom thinking, leaving me in charge?”

“He didn’t you bonehead,” Lieutenant Talidenai zh'Idenna callsign "Terror" informed her.  “You may have seniority over T'Zantha, but until they get back, I’m the ranking officer when it comes to the squadron.”

“Oh thank you Tali!  Thank you-thank you!” Tessa exclaimed as she hugged the Andorian in gratitude. 

“You’re…welcome,” Tali grunted as she tried to push Tessa away and free herself from the other pilot’s embrace.

Lieutenant (junoir grade) T'Zantha, callsign “Sniper” and Ensign Christopher Slayton, callsign "Husker", watched with mild amusement.

“You know for someone who said that she wasn’t ready to enter a romantic relationship with us she’s awfully clingly,” Christopher commented.

[ Dr. Amelya Rez | Primary Surgical Suite | CMO Office | Main Sickbay | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan , @CanadianVet @Jm Von Cat  @patches  

As the raspy voice of Nicander start to fill the room, Rez listened intently to her patient as he tried to deliver a message. However, the message he tried to convey was riddled, broken, disjointed. Almost like how his body had been hours ago. There was no real starting point and she narrowed her eyes as she tried to make sense of it all. After that he began talking about Radiants and McMillan, words that meant nothing to Amelya as she shook her head slightly "You're making no se-" she was interrupted by the strong arm of Kino Taer as she tapped her on the shoulder and requested her to move behind the field.

She turned her head to see the Trill security guard yet also felt the resolve of the woman as she wanted to move the doctor out of danger. Conflicted the doctor shook her head "Give me one more minute." she stalled authoritatively as Nicander asked for adrenaline or epinephrine. This was her department after all now, so she felt like she was at least entitled to some privileges. A drug that Amelya knew she couldn't deliver. The risk of jacking him up with those drugs would either make him more lucid to them or awaken the beast inside of him. Since they clearly didn't know how this infestation worked, it was a danger to administer those drugs. Not for her life, but for everyone on the ward, if not everyone on the ship. "I can't give you that doctor." she told him with a resolute voice.

Nicander suddenly began to rave about the Borg, that they were coming... For them. Yet what he meant with all of them wasn't entirely clear. Surely, the entire Borg collective couldn't be here? Amelya stepped back after those words of Nicander, to the relative safe distance of the force field to be activated. She looked at the other security guards present and tapped her badge "Rez to Bridge. Nicander is awake after his surgery. He claims the Borg are coming to assimilate him. How far along are we on those scans?" she requested as a cold feeling started to develop in her gut. Had they followed the Niger logs into a trap?

[ CPO Liam Herrold (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Liam_Herrold) | Fighter Assault Bay | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] @Blue Zephyr @Masorin
[Show/Hide]"Still need some consult in the Weapons Storage?"

Liam caught the look Ji gave him when she said that, after Ravon had moved on to launch half of the Lone Wolves squadron. He looked around the fighter bay as he picked up his PADD and started to compile a report about the current state of the fighters, about to send it to Ravon as a message, while he spoke under his breath to Ji. If they were about to take on the Borg with only a third of the whole Theurgy ship, then he wanted to take every opportunity for a private moment with Ji that he could. "Yeah," he said, and cleared his throat. "I think we need to make an inventory of the emitter housings, now that the Valravn fighters have such a frequent demand for new ones. They are on... shelf 4C, in the back of the storage. I'll join you there shortly, and we can decide how many new ones we need to replicate..."

Having said this, Liam finished his message to Ravon, and cast glances towards Sten Covington, wondering if he suspected anything. He waited a couple of minutes, watching the Lone Wolves launch, and then turned on his feel towards the weapon storage area on the starboard side of the fighter bay.

Eventually, when he entered the closed area, he took a deep breath, heading towards the shelf he had told Ji about, but as he set his steps in that direction, his peripheral vision caught the massive frame of a humanoid standing over one of the assembly tables. It was the Gorn that he and Ji had fought alongside when the Savi attacked them, just two days ago. Sithick. Liam had forgotten about him and the graviton emitter project being conducted there, and he realised that whatever he and Ji were going to do, they'd either have to be really quiet... or they could dismiss the crazy idea and instead go talk to the Gorn about any recent findings in the project.

Thus, torn between going to Ji or the Gorn, Liam caught the eye of his new girlfriend through the shelves, and he wondered if she had any notion about the Gorn being there, and if she also felt that the risk of them being discovered was too high with Sithck being only ten meters away.

---

[ Lt. Tyreke Okafor (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Tyreke_Okafor) | Battle Bridge | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: All
[Show/Hide]Even when the word was free for the bridge crew to offer suggestions, there were few ones. Tovarek had ideas for when they actually encountered the Borg, but right then, they were facing a mystery, where the cube that had destroyed the Endeavour seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. As for that particular conundrum, there were few words given.

Thus, Tyreke Okafor felt a bit out of his depth, his fortes being something quite else than sensors, but thankfully, he had the cutting edge of the Theurgy's sensor arrays at his disposal, and since the mentioning of Borg - when they conferred with the crew of the Niger - he had done his research, as expected of him if he was to be the leading Science Officer on the Sword. Having set up what he believed to be the best methods in descending priority, he stepped away from his console. The sensor calibration was working on the viewscreen in front of everyone assembled, data cascading along the sides of the screen.

"Since the Voyager returned to the Alpha Quadrant, their discoveries have helped augment the whole fleet when it comes to detecting the Borg and dealing with them, but since Admiral Janeway demolished the transwarp network that the Borg used to travel across the whole galaxy, these methods have remained theoretical at best, with no chance for practical application. However, with this in mind, I have started to look for high-energy triquantum wave-by products. I have also tried to filter out false positives by screening triquantum wave residues from the Borg cube that actually went through here." Catching some of the looks that he was given, Okafor explained. "A triquantum wave is an energy phenomenon which can accompany the opening of a transwarp conduit. They are subspace disruptions, and those with a field magnitude of 2.9 teracochranes, and a highly-symmetric power-utilization curve, are characteristic of a transwarp conduit, which is generated by a Borg cube."

Turning towards the viewscreen and the data accumulating there, Okafor continued. "All scans show the immediate area empty, except for the radiation field further ahead, where the nebula was born," he said, Jaya Thorne taking them closer to the exact point where the warp trail would end. He frowned, seeing red numbers beginning to appear. He stepped back to his console to make some comparisons. "I'm mapping the particles of the nebula... I have found this. There is no sign of space-time curvature in this area... but particles moving through the radiation field ahead have their directions and velocities altered. Effects of something... we can't see."

At least it was something. Evidence. But of what?

"I am going through the full range of likely methods... and now... we re trying the unlikely ones." He paused, seeing that there was no results yet. "Ensign Henshaw, could you please ask the Lone Wolves on reconnaissance to share the Sword's sensor interlink? That way, I might be able to triangulate any findings we make more efficiently. The more eyes we have, the better, and by pooling the data, we don't have to sort out the readings separately. They can't go too far out, though. Please keep them around the end of the warp trail."

Then, there was an incoming message from sickbay. [Rez to Bridge. Nicander is awake after his surgery. He claims the Borg are coming to assimilate him. How far along are we on those scans?]

---

[ Dr. Nicander (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Dr._Lucan_cin_Nicander) | Primary Surgical Suite | CMO Office | Main Sickbay | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Nolan @Doc M.  @patches  @CanadianVet  @Jm Von Cat 
[Show/Hide]Nicander felt too weak, but the urgency of what he had to tell them kept his mind afloat. Rez denied him what he needed, yet as he reviewed the situation from their eyes, as best as he might given his state of mind, he understood the decision, even though he needed the adrenaline to better fight off the thing within that tried to exploit his weakness. Lucan watched, pale grey eyes darting to the two security officers in exosuits that had come to 'save' Doctor Rez from him. They seemed to have caught on to his words, at least to some extent, and behaved as they ought to as Starfleet officers, despite all the experiences aboard the Theurgy that might have warped their sense of duty. He was gratified they didn't just begin shooting at an unarmed man in restraints, and heard that there was more than met the eye.

Say the word, release the restraints, crack their shells...

"No," he croaked, to the voice, but to Rez as well. She got it wrong. She had stepped back and contacted the bridge. She asked for a status report. Scans? Scanning for...? Don't tell me they are...

"No, the Borg... They are not the ones..." he called, louder, so that the bridge could hear his words. "They don't know... They know, the Infested! They know the Borg are coming. They want access... They want me assimilated... The Collective... Knowledge... The parasites are not really here... Not fully... They touch upon this reality... But they will not be assimilated... Just the Host... They... will just get the knowledge... In other Cycles... They could condition... the new Borg Queen's decisions... through the hive mind."

Lucan blinked. He just wanted to rest. But in rest there was darkness. He had to continue. He had to tell them. Scans. They were scanning. For the Borg? Oh, no... They are not there, are they?

"Listen to me," he said, speaking loudly enough to be heard through Rez's com-link. "Collapsing the passageways... is the swiftest means of stopping... the Borg from invading."

---

[ Lt. Tyreke Okafor (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Tyreke_Okafor) | Battle Bridge | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: All
[Show/Hide][Collapsing the passageways... is the swiftest means of stopping... the Borg from invading.]

Hearing those haunting words from Sickbay, from the voice of Doctor Nicander, whom the Theurgy crew had come to know as a man quite else than he proved to be, it made Okafor's skin crawl. But the content of those words...

"Passageways?" he asked, frowning, looking at the other bridge officers. As much as he didn't care to speak with Nicander, not knowing his full nature any more, he felt compelled to ask. "Are the Borg building another transwarp network?"

[No,] came the voice from Sickbay, [subspace tunnels. Like wormholes... they serve as a passage for rapid travel between distant points in the same universe... The difference is where... and how... they exist.]

Tyreke, having served for years on Bajor, knew that the Bajoran wormhole had a structure made possible by a twelve-dimensional helical verteron membrane and a series of verteron nodes, with an as-of-yet-unknwon energy source maintaing its tunneling effect through space time. "Is it like the one at Deep Space Nine?" he asked, putting his hands on his hips, not sure if the words heard from Sickbay could be trusted. He still awaited word from the Lone Wolves to add their sensors to the interlink.

[No... By the winds, these tunnels... are just similarly shaped. They don't exist... in normal space-time. They only exist in subspace, powered by a energy... drawn from normal space time. They are filled... with hyperphasic radiation... which desiccates organic matter and disperses it into subspace... within twenty seconds. Yet a... properly harmonised... shield frequency... should... be ...]

The silence lingered. "Nicander? We need to know how to detect these passageways. Doctor?"

[This is Doctor Elro Kobol . The patient is unconscious.]

No more had this been said... than Keval ch'Rayya spoke up from the tactical station. "There is a vessel approaching," he said tightly, his antennae twitching. "The bandwidth of these short-range sensor sweeps, and the nebula... it made us blind to it. Scanning now with long range sensors. Recommend we go to Red Alert."

---

OOC: All right! Here is the bridge crew, and the response time of 7 days begins today: [Show/Hide]Here is the characters in the Fighter Assault Bay and the Lone Wolves Squadron, and the response time of 7 days begins when @Nolan posts with Thomas Ravon & Ens. Henshaw for those on reconnaissance: [Show/Hide]Primary Surgical Suite, Main Sickbay, CMO Office: Here, Nicander has passed out, and either the patient stays where he is, or he is moved to the Brig. The ranking Security Officer is Vader Ridun, but there is the health of the patient to consider, and the current mission: [Show/Hide]Please notice how five hours have passed since the earlier events in this Chapter and 2300 hrs, which is the present time. These five hours are, of course, now available for everyone to use in setting up their own Supplemental threads. The naming convention for such threads belonging to Chapter 04 is still: Chapter 04: Supplemental [ Day XX | XXXX hrs. ] Insert Title.

[ Lt Cmdr Thomas Ravon | Kestrel | Heart of the Azure Nebula ] Attn: @Triage , @Triton , @Havenborn

"Meony t' Razor, requestin' permission t' flah ahead an' run low res ATS (Advanced Tactical Sensor Suite) scan at max range with high res Standard Nav."

Thomas looked over to Krystal's ship as she flew over to his right "Denied, we're not breaking formation." he answered her before he looked at the core once more. What the fuck were they doing up here? He looked at his own scanners and he added to Krystal "Use your ATS from here and keep me informed if anything pings up." he concluded as he looked back at the Sword as they made a gap between them and the place they called home. His eyes darted over his instruments before a message was passed on to them by Henshaw.

"Commander could you interlink your squadron with Sword's sensors for maximum scanning? We're triangulating on a signal. Mr Okafor has claimed that this would make the scanning far more efficient.However do not venture further than the trail. Mission ops out."

What fucking signal? Thomas thought to himself as he felt rather left in the dark about the entire ordeal. The warp trail ended a few thousand clicks ahead. and it'd be a matter of minutes before they'd reach it "Krystal, do you have anything on scanners yet?" he called out to her, listening to her answer before replying "New orders for everyone. Link up with Sword's sensor feed, apparently it'll make their scanning more efficient." Thomas said as his own scans were unsuccessful yet his gut feeling told him something was off about the entire situation. As soon as the squadron had linked up with Sword's sensors, the scanning on their ships became somewhat distorted.

As they reached the end of the trail the fighters circled around it like blood hounds. There was no clear sign to where the Borg were or where they had emerged from. All that seemed to be here was radiation and nebula. Thomas tried to eyeball anything out of the ordinary, yet with their sensors hijacked by Sword, there wasn't really much they could do. The feeling gnawed at the pilot as he felt like a sitting duck yet he had received his orders "How are we all doing?" he asked his squadron, trying to gauge their feeling about the situation.

 "Henshaw to Ravon, be advised we have a ship approaching. Bearing on the following position. We'll transfer the coordinates to your squadron." The pilot groaned lightly at hearing the message as he looked at the coordinates only to realize that their scanners just couldn't pick up on it. "Theurgy, how long do we have until we have actual contact?" he gnarled as he was not amused with the new information. Even with the largest zoom functions aboard the ship, they'd be unable to make out what was out there. "We've got contact bearing 7-6-2, stick close and wait for my call to pounce it. Confirm!"

[ Lt. JG Evelyn Rawley | Cockpit | AC-409 Mk III Valkyrie, Winterbourne | Azure Nebula] Attn: @Auctor Lucan @Nolan @Triage @Triton @Havenborn
[Show/Hide]

"New orders for everyone. Link up with Sword's sensor feed, apparently it'll make their scanning more efficient."

Rawley was more than happy to comply to Razor’s orders. This was a scouting mission, after all, but nonetheless, it was a fool who didn’t expect a fight. And she expected, at any moment, a geometrically shaped ship of any size to appear, as usually befitting the Borg. Of course, Rawley didn’t mind her own fighter extending the range of the Theurgy’s sensors. It’s like being a satellite, except that satellite’s ready at any moment to scarper quickly or to kick some arse.

All the same, so far her own scans told her nothing, and if that’s the case, if the other Wolves haven’t caught the scent yet, she wouldn’t be surprised. And yet, her intuition was abuzz, once again. Just as it was bloody accurate when it came to what was really wrong with Nicander, Rawley’s intuition was telling her something was wrong. She didn’t know if the rest of the Wolves felt like she did, but her intuition was telling her to expect anything, a trap, an ambush.

"How are we all doing?"

Rawley had just opened comms with the Kestrel to report to Ravon, but just as she opened her mouth, she heard Ensign Henshaw over the comms.

"Henshaw to Ravon, be advised we have a ship approaching. Bearing on the following position. We'll transfer the coordinates to your squadron."

“Crikey,” said Rawley quietly. Rawley could hear Razor’s groan over the comms, and she couldn’t blame him.

"Theurgy, how long do we have until we have actual contact?" he gnarled as he was not amused with the new information.

She received the coordinates from the Theurgy just as Razor sounded off.

"We've got contact bearing 7-6-2, stick close and wait for my call to pounce it. Confirm!"

“Ghost to Razor, coordinates received,” Rawley acknowledged. “And I can confirm our sensor readings: Ship approaching, bearing 7-6-2. I had a feeling something didn’t smell right, Razor.”

She can see it, alright, with her sensors connected to the Theurgy, again like a satellite. Reception was foggy, but she can see the ship, and what's more, she can see its trajectory. From the vessel’s trajectory, she can tell it was on course heading for the “Sword.” She can't tell what kind of ship it was, foggy as the sensors were, so she'll have to rely on eyesight. She gazed into the sky-blue void, to see it coming.

She narrowed her eyes as she turned back to her sensor readings, wondering if Nicander was behind this. Yes, it would make sense. Best case scenario: Did he somehow tip the Borg off? She would’ve preferred that to be the case, so she use that as an excuse to, as she indicated in her recorded threat, whether Nicander got it or not, empty her ordinance into his arse. Or perhaps there’s something worse.

Worst case scenario: The Borg are seeking to assimilate the wanker and the bloody worm inside him. And to what end…? The infernal worms control plenty of higher-ups in Starfleet, could it be possible they want control of the Borg?

She shuddered at the thought. It was bad enough Starfleet superiors are possessed by the parasites. But to control the Borg? The galaxy will be screwed if that happens.

---

OOC: I'm open as to what name Rawley has for her fighter, or to know what she has called her fighter in the past.

[CPO Eun Sae Ji | Fighter Assault Bay | Weapons Storage | Deck 16 | USS Theurgy]
@Auctor Lucan @Masorin

She could see Liam's face.  Her eyes shifting up to his, him being that much taller than her.  But, she liked that he could fold around her and hold her.  Ji was not overly tall and she could sometimes be referred to as slight.  Despite the wealth of muscles and the personality to back them up.  She also knew that there were times she just wanted to feel like a woman, a girl, someone that could lean on someone else briefly.  Where she could close her eyes and hear his heart beat pounding in her ears while he protected her for just a moment.  She didn't need anyone to do it, but sometimes, the inner girl just wanted it.

He told her where to go, and what to get.  She smirked softly and wondered if he was worried about people finding them out.  She didn't know if he was embarrassed by her or worried that they might get in trouble.  She didn't know what he wanted to do, they hadn't really talked about it and maybe they should.  Biting her lower lip she gave a nod, she was a bit unsure of what to do honestly but any time she could gather alone with Liam would be special. 

“I'm on it.  I'll get started.”

She turned and took off for the weapons storage her mind filled with worry and concern over what Liam might have thought about their relationship.  All of the things that had gone down with Sten had made her wary of being something of.. a hidden burden.  Or if he was embarrassed to know and be dating her.  That was her fear, that he was ashamed that he was with her, that she wasn't worth what she hoped that she was.  The fears plagued her heavily on the way to the weapons storage.

So much so, she didn't notice the Gorn that was in the room after she stepped in and closed the door.  Walking through the rows of weapons and parts she found the fourth row and headed down to the third column where the C was and she leaned against the rack there.  She could smell the dust, and reminded herself she needed to get someone to come in here and give it a good cleaning.  The next person that crossed her would be a good candidate.  However, her mind flickered back to Liam rather quickly.

He knows your history with Sten, he wouldn't discount you like that. 

But, what if he does?  What if it was all just words and fluff, what if there is no steady male out there that will give me the time of day.  What if I am too boy-ish, what if he longs more for the curls, long hair, painted nails kind of person.

No, if he wanted someone more girly he wouldn't have spent that night holding you.

He wouldn't be the first to do so.

Liam can't be the same scum bag that Sten was...

The door opened again and her dark eyes zeroed in on the man in her thoughts.  Dragging her away from the thoughts that were plaguing her more heavily and the self doubt that came with them.  She needed to talk to him, really talk to him, but she wasn't sure if that was actually going to be a good idea.  Here?  Now?  Before shit hit the fan??  They were going after the Borg it was honestly now or never.  She was just glad to have the opportunity that she could with Liam.  He made his way to her, and her eyes followed him, she had not noticed the Gorn, not in the least.  But then, she had been lost in her thoughts about Liam and what if... not that it was a good idea to be so lost, but a woman could not always control where their thoughts went.  Considering her history it made snese.  Even if Liam would not probably understand it.

As he came down the row, she grabbed his hand and pulled him closer.  Nearly so much so, that she was a bit pressed against the rows of the weaponry behind her.  Kissing him heavily, hungrily, and her muscular arms around him tightly.  Her slender frame holding him as close as she could for a long moment before she broke the kiss.  Holy shit that felt good. she thought to herself, as she looked up at him with those large brown eyes of hers.

“Can I ask you a question?” she whispered softly close to him, not letting him go even though she feared, desperately for the answer.  “You're .. not ashamed to be seen with me are you?” she whispered softly.  Her eyes bore into his, she feared the answer, but for her own sanity she had to know.  She needed to know.  She wasn't try to sound insecure but this was all very new, and she had seen his face on the deck. 

“If you prefer to keep it quiet, between us, then .. that's fine I just need to know how to go forward from here.” she admitted, still unaware that Sithick was in the room with them, though that was her own fault for being otherwise preoccupied.

[ Ens. Krystal "Meony" Tancredi (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Krystal_Tancredi,_callsign_%22Meony%22) | Cockpit | AC-409 Mk III Valkyrie, Sassy Slayer | The Infinite Coffin | Azure Nebula ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan, @Nolan, @Havenborn, @Jm Von Cat, @Blue Zephyr & @Multificionado
[Show/Hide]She'd looked up at her flight leader to her left from the canopy of her cockpit, locking eyes with him for a moment, wondering if he'd go for it. From what she'd known of him so far, he seemed to be quite by-the-books, only slightly less strict than Daniel in adherence to protocols. So she wasn't too disappointed when he denied her request. But he did allow her to go ahead with her scan request. So that worked out fine enough. She only wanted to minimize risk to the squadron by distancing herself from them. If her active scanning was picked up and a ship jumped right on her, the squad would have time to react from a safe distance. Now, if the worst happened, they'd probably all pay the price together.

“Copy, Razor.” said Meony, and began adjusting her sensor suite, keeping it on low resolution to increase the range, and then she began to tune in her navigational sensors, which boosted over several lightyears altogether with the ATS. It wasn't a perfect reader, and on low resolution, coupled with the garbled volumes that can be picked up by the Standard Nav sensors, it would take something of a miracle to get a good and valuable read, unlike her scans of the Versant and the Savi fighters. Still, it was better than being utterly blind. She pinged what could be potential signatures belonging to Federation vessels, but they could be traces or recent arrivals, and she couldn't make head or tails. So when Thomas asked if she'd found anything, she replied a little sadly, “Nothin' worth hollerin' about yet, suh! Lotta maybes and possibly only. Got signals that could be th' other vectors or other Federation starships, lightyears away. No way t' tell fer sure. Sorry.”

She looked out her canopy again at Thomas' fighter, feeling like she'd just wasted their time. Jimmy would probably tell her she was being silly or too hard on herself. She missed him. At least she had Sharky to keep her company.

Following her new orders, Meony banked the Sassy Slayer carefully, keeping a tight formation with Thomas, and as she allowed flight ops to take control of her ship's sensors, she didn't know what to make of the readings, and just relied on her ship's on navigational systems and her eyes - which was getting a bit blurry - to keep track of the Wolves. Using her suit's built in system to cool her body temperature and the temperature in the helmet itself, she realized she was likely bleeding again. Making sure her communications was shut off, she muttered to herself, “Hang in there, hang in there! God if ya cain hear meh, lemme live this long t' see us all through!”

When Thomas asked them how they were doing, Meony laughed mirthlessly, then turned on her hailing systems, opening it to the squad, “Just peachy keen, suh!”

Suddenly the situation became grim when Thomas informed them that there was an inbound contact. “Meony t' Razor, confuhmed, bearing seven-seix-two.”

She juked her Valkyrie with the manuevering thrusters, turning in the direction of the expected arrival, whilst still moving in formation with the rest of the Wolves, and still moving in her original trajectory, but mindful of her position adjacent with all the others so as to avoid a potential collision.

[ Cmdr Ranaan Ducote | Battle Bridge | Deck 01 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @steelphoenix @trevorvw et al

The turbolift doors hissed open to release Ranaan into the command compartment. There was an air of anticipation clouding the bridge, tinged with a healthy wariness of their potential quarry. If they were lucky, it would be as he assumed and they could confirm that while this was the area in which the Borg had penetrated the border, they were alone and they might take a crack at closing whatever conduit they had used to get here. If they weren't... well. Why not continue the theme of the week?

Ducote picked out Kaeris and Akoni amid the officers of the Theurgy. He moved over to them, taking care to stay out of the way of the working staff in the room - partly out of respect for their tasks, but mostly out of practicality. He moved a little gingerly, slightly favouring one side, though he made no complaint. Since the meeting, he had managed to take the time to shower and shave, replicate a fresh uniform, and had even managed an hour or so of fitful sleep. It was nowhere near enough, but it was a start. He was sort of able to remember how to be a civilised person again. As he got closer to Vael and Kai they might spot his freshly-grazed knuckles and a bruise running along the right side of his jaw, but the latter didn't stop him offering a tight-lipped smile of greeting as he took up post next to them.

"Commander. Lieutenant," he said quietly. "I hope you managed to get some rest. Have they found anything yet?"

It was odd to witness the activity on a ship and have no handle on any of it, after so long in Command positions. He wasn't sure where he fit here, as he hadn't defected as they had and wasn't an exactly willing guest either. But for the moment, their goals aligned, and assuming the information they had shared was on the level they weren't the villains as which they had been painted, too. He still wondered if there was a way to get his people off this deathtrap-in-waiting, though. They might be able to work away at the parasite problem from outside, even. Shortly after he had his reply, there was a call from below decks and a chilling objective mentioned by the parasitic host in sickbay.

Not sure how much we should trust it, though. But that doesn't mean he isn't telling the truth, either.

On a more personal level, he was relieved to hear Elro's voice come in at the end, bedside-tone in full swing. Several of the other Niger survivors were still in the infirmary, and knowing Kobol  was there to supervise them was something of a reassurance despite the situation.

"There is a vessel approaching," came a call from the Tactical station. The more modern bridge layout was something he was going to have to get used to, as well. The Endeavour shared the older Galaxy-pattern bridge modules, whereas this was part of a newer generation. "... Recommend we go to Red Alert."

He stopped himself from appending a "By all means," to the end of that, though only after taking a breath to project his voice. He let it out in a long sigh, instead. Not my ship. Not my crew.

Ranaan closed his eyes as he mentally reset himself. This day wasn't about to end yet. God, please let her be safe and well and let me see her again.

[ Ensign Jaya Thorne | Battle Bridge | Deck 01 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ]

Jaya was there, at her station, the new ensigns pips still feeling psychologically hot on her collar, she still couldn’t believe too much how she had actually passed all those tests and made officer, albeit the lowest of the low ranks in Starfleet. She heard the orders given by Lieutenant Commander Wenn Cinn and quickly switched her helm console to its tactical preset, giving the vector slightly faster response times and better maneuvering through pre-selected settings designed to help in combat.

The young woman’s mouth was dry from anticipation, this would be her first encounter with one of the most feared species in the universe, the all assimilating Borg Collective, one of the most intrinsically evil races ever encountered by anyone. At least this is how they are seen by pretty much anyone not already a mind-controlled drone of their collective. All right Jaya, you’ve got your post, you’re flying a big girl now and you need to act like one and don’t let them see you’re nearly crapping yourself with nervousness at facing the Borg. She thinks to herself, managing to keep her brain to mouth issue in control for now. 

All LCdr. Cinn heard from her was. “Aye sir, helm set to tactical mode, progressing on ordered course, nothing on sensors yet sir.” Said the young woman, hoping her voice didn’t sound too shaky from her nervousness as she reported back to the vector’s commanding officer, hands flying on her consoles LCARS as she made sure everything was set right over and over again, terrified that she would make a mistake at such a crucial moment.

She kept the ship on course and kept a speed that would allow thorough scanning while not leaving them as “sitting ducks” as the expression went. She took a few slow, silent breaths, attempting to remain calm although her mind was screaming like a wild banshee about facing the machine people.

She did not, however, falter in performing her duties and paying attention to her orders, she was helming one of the USS Theurgy’s vectors now, not some small scout ship modified for better combat performance. She was playing with the big boys and girls and was determined to properly step up and show that she earned her pip and that she did earn her scores in the various test, including the dreaded Kobayashi Maru test.

When given the order to stop as a heavy radiation pocket was ahead, she quickly acknowledged the order, hands deftly tapping the proper command sequence onto the LCARS. “Aye sir, all stop, setting engines and thrusters to position holding mode.” She spoke with what confidence she could inflect into her voice.

She blinked, listening to that voice from the medbay, it still, gave her a massive shiver down her spine but the things said made sense, for those who knew anything about it, she guessed, to her it was all egghead Gobledegook, so she didn’t pay too much more attention than she had to in order to know what is going on. Just then the ship got a hail from a fighter out on patrol, just as her own sensors flashed. Just after the fighter reported in she turned to LCdr. Cinn. “Sir! Confirmed vessel, unknown type bearing 7-6-4 mark 3, distance 0.72 light years.” She said, turning back to her console, checking her data. “Orders sir?”

[ Lt. Kai Akoni | Battle Bridge | Deck 1 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy] @Top Hat @steelphoenix et al.

Kaeris and Kai had been standing out of the way of the Theurgy crew while they went about their duties. Kai found it a little difficult and slightly unnerving that they were just observing, rather than participating. As Kai stood there observing the situation, he noticed Commander Ducote arriving out of the corner of his eye. He turned to face him and noticed the Ducote looked a little worse for wear. Kai assumed that he had vented some anger and stress out, but he wasn't about to ask about it.

The Commander came up beside the two and whispered "Commander. Lieutenant, I hope you managed to get some rest. Have they found anything yet?"

Kai leaned in a little closer and gave his reply in the same hushed tone, "They've followed the warp trail to this location, but it just seems to end here" That was all that Kai knew at this point, as frustrating as it was.

After the quick little 'briefing' the two had with Ducote, the creepy conversation with the entity in sickbay, outlining possible objectives followed. Just hearing the conversation and thinking about the outcomes if this were even remotely true; turned Kai's stomach. Kai wasn't entirely sure what to do, but he knew that he wanted to do more than just observe.

His thoughts were punctuated by an urgent beeping from a console, even though he didn't know which station it was coming from. He soon found out it was the tactical station as the tactical officer called out "There is a vessel approaching... recommend we go to Red Alert."

The usual red lights started flashing amongst the bridge and Kai stood there in anticipation, waiting for what kind of vessel it was.

Is it the Borg? He thought as he waited for them to identify it.

The helm officer confirmed the contact, however the vessel was still unidentified.

The Theurgy crew awaited orders on what would follow, while the Endeavour crew members had to just sit and watch...

At least put us to use.. Kai thought as he waited with baited breath.

[ Tessa May Lance, callsign:  Goldeneye (http://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Tessa_May_Lance,_callsign_%22Goldeneye%22) | Fighter Assault Bay | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Nolan, @Auctor Lucan, @Havenborn, @Multificionado, @Even Angels Cry, @Jm Von Cat , @Blue Zephyr, @Masorin,  @Triage.

Meanwhile, in the Fighter Bay on Deck Sixteen the lights flashing a ‘red alert’ signal didn’t go unnoticed.

“Okay, look alive Wolves!” Lieutenant Talidenai zh'Idenna callsign "Terror" called out.  “This is it; I hope both you and your fighters are ready to fly!  When we get the order to launch, I want every pilot in their cockpits!”

“Showtime,” Christopher Ensign Christopher Slayton, callsign "Husker", commented as he tapped Lieutenant (junoir grade) T'Zantha, callsign “Sniper on the knuckles with two fingers and headed for his fighter.

Lieutenant (junior grade) Tessa May Lance, callsign Goldeneye pouted as she watched the casual display of affection.  “Why am I programmed to have only one partner at a time?” she grumbled to herself as she climbed into her Valkerie and pulled on her helmet.  “Oh well, there’s no point complaining.  By tomorrow I’ll probably have an entire Borg collective to share my life with,” she muttered as she checked the seals of her exosuit.  As she went through her preflight checks she could hear Tali’s voice through her comm system:

[ This Terror; Nobody launch until we get the order.  If we really have found the Borg we may have to get away fast and Starfleet isn’t going to send us any replacements for whoever falls behind.  I repeat; wait for the order. ]

Tessa took a deep breath.  The only thing worse than a battle was waiting for one.  It was more than likely that if their mission was a success they were going to make a run for it without even launching the remaining fighters, but Tessa wasn’t going to place any faith in their mission going smoothly.

[ PO2 Kino Taer | Primary Surgical Suite | CMO Office | Main Sickbay | USS Theurgy ] @Jm Von Cat @CanadianVet @Nolan

“Give me one more minute.”

Those were not the words Kino wanted as a response, though she half-expected them. Doctors tended to be stubborn about their patients, a trait that Kino enjoyed as a patient but exasperated her as a Security officer. At least Dr Rez was refusing to give . . . Nicander the adrenaline he was begging for, but that lack of such medication didn’t stop the disgraced medical officer from continuing to babble on about Borg, the parasites, and something about “passageways” that weren’t wormholes or whatever.
She might have been educated enough to have a passing understanding of the subject but at that moment, Kino Taer really didn’t care. At least it was now only her and Eliska in the area adjacent to the raving infested man. She tapped Eliska’s shoulder and gestured for the other petty officer to step back further with her to the force field line. It would be there that the Trill intended to spend the rest of the conversation.

Kino let out a sigh of relief that she wasn’t aware of holding for so long after Nicander finally passed out. She lowered her rifle slightly and opened a channel to the other exosuited Security officers. “Looks like he’s out for the count. Since he’s well enough to talk, I suggest we move him to the Brig where we can keep him under a stronger lock and key. Ridun, what’s your call?”

The Trill didn’t bother to expound on why. The reasoning was as plain as the spots on her body, plus the potential threat of Borg demanded a Sickbay that was clear to operate without Security interfering and it would free up Security officers themselves to deal with any potential intruders. Tying up the ship’s most qualified personnel guarding a prisoner, even a very dangerous one, in Sickbay felt like a complete waste of time and people.

[ LT Daniel Havenborn | Fighter Assault Bay, Deck 16 | USS Theurgy, Vector 2 ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan, @Nolan, @Doc M., @Triage, @Triton, @Multificionado, Other Lone Wolves

Daniel was inside his fighter’s cockpit going over the new upgrades that had been finished not too long ago.  Knight was inspecting their weapons loadout making sure that it was correct and secured to the fighter’s hard points.  He had chosen a pair of twin mass driver turrets and a pair of Hellborne torpedoes, the fact that they could penetrate into the Borg cube before detonating would help them if only slightly.  Daniel would take any advantage that helped them complete this asinine mission.

Hearing the order from Commander Ravon to rally up meant that it was time, they were actually going to do it after all.  They were going to willingly seek out the Borg and try to take them on without support from anyone else.  Daniel had heard that the newcomers from the Runabout had been behind the change in their orders.  Instead of making the rendezvous with the other Vectors they were instead making a suicide attack against a Borg cube.  He hoped that Commander Ravon had argued against the attack but since he wasn’t privy to the staff meeting he supposed he’d never know, not that it really mattered anymore.

He watched as Knight climbed up the ladder and clambered into the cockpit behind Daniel.  “Hard points are secured and correct Salvo.”  Knight said.  Daniel nodded, it wasn’t that he didn’t trust the Theurgy tech crews; it was more that this was part of their tradition.  Even on the Resolve and the Persephone, Knight would check to make sure that everything was secure and correct as requisitions could get confused sometimes.  As Knight buckled in Daniel closed the cockpit and a few short moments later they were out in the nebula.  Daniel confirmed he Zero-Six-Seven formation and upon hearing the orders from Ravon about weapons hot and maintaining communications silence he felt like that was a common sense moment, this wasn’t a time for idle chat as they needed to be alert to their situation and focus their attention on trying to find a fucking Borg cube.

[ LT Daniel Havenborn, Callsign: Salvo | Cockpit | AC-307 Mark-II Valkyrie “Hellcat”]

After a few minutes of flying he heard the request from Meony to break off from the group and he stopped himself from denying her request as he wasn’t in command of this flight at the moment.  Although hearing Ravon deny her request made him happy as right now the biggest advantage they had was the fact that they were grouped together in formation with the Sword not far behind them.  Hearing the order to link up their sensor feed to the ship was kind of odd but Daniel didn’t question it and linked up his sensor feed sending the information to the Sword.

He looked out his cockpit at the others fighters in formation, a trio of Mark-IIIs, a Gryphon and a Valravn.  It was like the start of one the bad jokes that Knight would tell him every so often about how some unlikely people walk into a bar or some place and the comedy was supposed to ensue afterwards but Daniel never really understood them.  Suddenly he got the coordinates from the Sword for the contact that they had detected.  Daniel did a quick check of his fighters systems and once he was done with that he confirmed Ravon’s order.  “Salvo to Razor, waiting on your command confirmed.”  Daniel said.  The worst part about all of this was the waiting, now something was happening and whether it led to their deaths they’d know in a matter of minutes.

[Lt. Commander Wenn Cinn | Battle Bridge | Deck 8 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy]

The worst part of security work was the waiting.  Humans called them stakeouts, the operation where detectives and others sat around watching a point of interest looking for something to happen.  Whatever they were called, they were mind-numbingly boring, and it took the dark-skinned Bajoran a long time to get used to being patient like that in his work, both while in the Resistance, then later in Starfleet.  This was worse.  There were hundreds of people under him waiting for his next orders, but what were they supposed to be?  The Sword was already at Yellow Alert and the Wolves were out in the nebula, extending their sight to more of the nebula.  Tovarek had arrived with news of having come up with several new strategies, something that earned a grateful nod from Cinn.

Okafor was running at full tilt, constantly digging up records and current theories on how the Borg worked and fine-tuning the sensors to look for whatever the other scientists back at Starfleet had come up with.  Such diligence went far with Cinn, but he could do with fewer details honestly.  Would it work or not was all he needed to know.  The man was prattling on about triquillium waves powered with Zephram Cochrane’s favorite booze or something like that and it was giving him a headache.  The frantic call from Sickbay was almost a welcome relief.  As soon as Rez’s voice filled the Bridge Cinn was on his feet and heading to the security station, fearing the worst.

It wasn’t Rez screaming for help while that thing wearing Nicander’s face tore her throat out and raped her with it, but hearing his voice wasn’t very high on Cinn’s wish list either.  Listening to the raspy voice try to get some message out, the Bajoran was confused at first.  “Infested” want to be assimilated?  He looked over to Tovarek to get any inclination of a thought from his XO, but Nicander kept going, and the message came through.  By the Prophets, the power of the Borg in the parasite’s hands? That was not a happy thought.  Amazingly, the man who was supposed to have been dead managed to be a fount of information, if it was only the most basic of briefings.  He continued on to Okafor, the two of them going on about how the Borg were moving around the galaxy.  It sounded like a pie-in-the-sky ramble at first, the ravings of a madman making up theories out of whole cloth, but if that mental link with the parasites was two-way…

ch’Rayya brought a quick end to the captain’s internal deliberations, the normal sensors picked something up in the nebula and it was coming for them.  Considering what they were looking for, there was little chance it would’ve been something benign.  The order was given as before Cinn had returned to his chair.  “Red alert, all hands to battle stations!”  Sitting down, he turned to the person over flight ops.  “Hold on fighter launch for the moment, no need for them to get picked off before we can cover them.  ch’Rayya, set all weapons on a random modulation, and keep each blast short and sweet, lets not make it easy for them to adapt.”  It was sure to be a redundant order, but one never knew.  “Helm, when the target is in sight I want to swing us around to give the Wolves a straight shot out of the hangar.  The others should already be moving in a flanking pincer, coordinate with Mission Ops as needed.”

With the primary departments all taken care of, there was one other group that needed taking care of.  Turning around to see Commanders Ducote, and Kaeris with Lt. Akoni standing in a small group out of the way.  “Commander Ducote, Lieutenant Akoni, you have security experience, correct? Take the security station, prepare teams to repel boarders. Commander Kaeris, assist Mr. Okafor, the faster he finds a solution to Mr. Nicander’s ideas the sooner we can get out of here.”

[ Lt. (J.G.) Alessia "Angel" Garcia (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Alessia_Garcia,_callsign_%22Angel%22) | Fighter Assault Bay | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] [size=10]Attn: @Auctor Lucan, @Nolan, @Havenborn, @Jm Von Cat, @Blue Zephyr & @Multificionado[/size]
[Show/Hide]
"Angel, you gonna synch sensors?" Vinnie asked, noticing Alessia hadn't yet synchronized her sensors yet. It was on the side of safety, she avoided that but stayed well within the formation, making only light maneuver changes to bob-and-weave as her fighter negotiated with the nebula. It was like the Argo All-Terrain-Vehicle she tested out on Luna.

"Not yet. Start with minimal-emission scans, then broaden the spectrum. Cross-check any readings or hits and send the scans to Razor... Okay, here we go; Easing up and taking overwatch. She maneuvered her fighter in dives and pitches to avoid bitting on a predictable vector while doing her best to stay in formation and within marked range of the squadron.  "I'm keeping us off-grid til we're ready to fire. And hit hard.".

Alessia took the tail-end wing position, to give her Valravn's turn rate some needed corner speed. She'd out into the final frontier this time out with an extra pair of cannons so that Fury could swivel two of them aft and handle any plasma torpedo or catch a firing arc to hit a Cube's tractor beam emitters. "This could be another vector. Watch for buddy spikes, but nothing that'd give us away."

"We've got contact bearing 7-6-2, stick close and wait for my call to pounce it. Confirm!" Razor reported.

"Ghost to Razor, coordinates received, and I can confirm our sensor readings: Ship approaching, bearing 7-6-2. I had a feeling something didn't smell right, Razor." The Scottish accent was clearly Ghost.

Alessia was apprehensive as contact was reported. It was now when she briefly activated her sensors to get a momentary readout. Previously, She hadn't gotten around to synchronizing her sensors to the Sword's systems, on the side of stealth and caution at first. She also kept her comms limited to hers and Fury's private channel. But she texted a green 'affirmative' on their squadron channel, seen somewhere on her SCO's HUD without Angel transmitting. She was still playing a careful approach.

[Reading contact. Unidentified.] Angel texted to the squad, staying verbally silent and using an extremely low-frequency ping the message.

[ PO1 Varder Ridun (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Varder_Ridun) | Primary Surgical Suite | Sickbay | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy  | 2300 hrs. ] Attn: @patches @CanadianVet @Doc M. @Nolan @Mathis
[Show/Hide]When two of the officers under his command moved forward Ridun made no attempt to halt or join them, they knew their business as he knew his, as did the other Security officers present. Despite the edge that everyone had due to the nature of their duty at this moment, noone made any rash choices. A fact Ridun was pleased to note, however minor it might seem.

The 'good doctors' ramblings were on the verge of inaudible to the young Bajoran as he sidestepped slowly so as to position himself behind and between Petty Officers Taer and Bremmer. The expected and disliked response was provided from one Trill to another, at least Rez made no movements toward the former CMO.

What disturbed Ridun most about this situation was not this creature's rambling, it was the look on its face, conviction? Determination? it was a drive, something difficult to explain but well known by those whom have seen. Yet this thing was the enemy, or was there a conflict within? Thoughts to shake from his mind, irrelevant thoughts to his present duties.

Then Nicander faded into unconsciousness, his ravings finished.

"Looks like he's out for the count. Since he's well enough to talk, I suggest we move him to the Brig where we can keep him under a stronger lock and key. Ridun, what's your call?"

Kino's words were a good anchor for Ridun to place everything into a manageable perspective, even the blind and perhaps the dead were aware that something was occurring beyond this one room. His knee-jerk reaction was to agree with Kino for immediate transportation. Red alert, however, convinced him that now was indeed the time to go off reaction. The sickbay and medical personnel would be needed, he and the other Security had duties to perform as well. There was no way the sword could afford to have so many tied down.

"Have the patient secured and transported."

His rifle lowered to the resting position, barrel towards the ground as he adjusted his view towards the one medical professional in a position to make any quick assessment. "Doctor Rez if any stabilization is required I recommend detailing a medical officer to the duty.", he spoke quickly, calmly but in such as manner as to be clear this was more than a simple request.

Having received the Trill Doctors response if any, Ridun addressed the other security personnel present, "Alert the Brig regarding their imminent guest. Those not needed on immediate detail report to stations for Red Alert. Bremmer, Taer, we are Transport escort." The suit he wore concealed all minor movements and ticks that Ridun normally would display, providing the outward appearance of stoicism from the Bajoran.  

[ PO2 Eliska Bremmer | Primary Surgical Suite | CMO Office | Main Sickbay | USS Theurgy ] @Nolan @Jm Von Cat @patches @Auctor Lucan

This was another time Bremmer was glad the exosuit hid her face from prying eyes.  Because she was terrified, and that was hardly something to show the squishies who only received basic self-defence training in Starfleet.  In battle, even the hard professionalism inculcated by ACS could crack; they had been told it could.  And that it was all right to be scared, and it was even ok to show it, so long as one didn't allow sheer terror to control them.

And, lately, Eliska had to admit she had come close.  On that goddamned moon, when she and that pilot were about to be eaten by spiders. 

And now that monster on the biobed was also threatening her calm.  Speaking of how the parasites actually wanted him assimilated, how they would use the body of Nicander to have the monster within be in a position to affect the Collective as a whole by affecting the Queen.  That was the stuff of nightmares and bad holo-novels, not that of reality...  Well, at least that is what she would have said a week ago. 

And of course, now there was a Red Alert to go along with everything.  When it rained...

And there she stood, her rifle shouldered and ready indeed blow that thing's head off when she felt a tap on her suit's shoulder and she backed away, her muzzle never flickering away from its target.  If it was faking, she would open up and undo all that nice work the doctors did.  Keying the network that was shared among the suited personnel dealing with Nicander, Eliska spoke.  "Hey, Varder, how about we beam it into the Brig instead?  If you want us to walk alongside a gurney, it's your call.  But I'd rather not risk it just faking and breaking loose when we're already in the shit."

Then, just as she was about to stop talking, something came to her mind.  "Just thinking out loud here, I know he's a source of information on those parasites and whatnot, but if we let the Borg have him, not just the Federation would be proper fucked.  Maybe bounce it off the Sir upstairs, but we should consider taking Nicander off the board completely."

[ Dr. Amelya Rez | Primary Surgical Suite | CMO Office | Main Sickbay | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan  , @CanadianVet  @Jm Von Cat   @patches

As the doctor lost consciousness Amelya worked her way back to the force field as she needed to get a read on his vitals. The low buzzing sound of the field made her stop, the effects of touching the field would be more than unpleasant. She looked up at the armored security personnel as one suggested to move him to security as he seemed fit enough. Amelya shook her head, yet knew perfectly that security wasn't too keen on leaving the man here.

Rez her eyes moved through the room, Maya had not returned yet and Elro Kobol  was still present "Dr Kobol ... Would you be so kind to follow up on the patient for me? I'd do so myself, yet with the red alert, I think it would be best if medical staff saw recognizable faces. Feel free to make calls concerning his health on your own, but if time allows it, I would like to keep updated on his situation." she asked first before giving the reasoning behind her way of thinking.

"He's not stable enough to move through the ship corridors however.. He's barely good enough to stay in the Brig. Yet I only sign off on it because I'm confident Dr Kobol  is more than capable enough to look after him. If he weren't here, I'd strongly object to him being moved. I recommend a site to site transport." she said sternly as she had turned herself towards Varder in the meantime "I don't need to remind you Mr Varder that he is technically your concern now, should any harm come of it, I'll hold you and your colleagues responsible." It was a thing Amelya herself would not do in the past, perhaps her more assertive personality was fueled by the joining of the Rez symbiont. Time would tell what else was different about Amelya.

With that she simply removed the surgical scrubs of her and released her blonde hair from the bun it was in. She stepped out of the scarred primary surgical suite and moved through Sickbay now as she looked for updates on incoming patients or those already there.

[ Ensign Jaya Thorne | Battle Bridge | Deck 01 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ]

Jaya kept her eyes on her console as things happened, a message from sickbay, some discussions on ideas about stuff she would rather not be thinking about much, while she stayed alert, she did keep an eye on the fighter group deployed ahead of the sword as they called this particular vector of the USS Theurgy’s multi vectored hull design. You know, just to be cautious, she didn’t want anything bad happening to their pilots out there.

She then heard the red alert blare as it was activated shortly after she reported the confirmation of some unknown vessel. She quickly set her station to full combat mode, hands flying over her LCARS as she spoke. “Aye sir, unknown contact still bearing 7-6-4 mark 3, distance now 0.68 lightyears, contact seems to be accelerating, distance 0.60… 0.50! Closing Fast Commander!” She stated as calmly and clearly as she could but her mind was already racing. Oh shit, this is bad, this is sooooo bad, god please please please don’t be some monstrous Borg Tactical Cube or something worse! She thought to herself as she calmly prepared to swing the ship around and slam the hangar doors open to scramble what fighters they had left to launch.

Her sensors, though impaired could begin getting an outline of the unknown but she still couldn’t get an identification, whatever it was it wasn’t exactly small. She swallowed, her mouth feeling like sandpaper, she coughed, clearing her throat. “Uhm, does anyone have a better scan on this thing?” She asked out loud. “Because, with all due respect to everyone here, that don’t look friendly or small!” she said, her voice a bit hoarse but still managing to keep it calm as she continued to maneuver the ship through the nebula as ordered, the unknown vessel continuing to close. “contact now 0.32 light years out, 0.22!”

She kept as cool as she could be, they had combat craft already out and her console indicated they had quite a few more of them ready to scramble the moment she got the ship angled at LCdr. Cinn’s order. Her mind was racing as she continued monitoring her systems, maneuvering the ship as ordered, keeping an eye on the sensor blip ahead. “Sir they aren’t slowing and are headed straight for us… 0.04 light years and closing!”

[ Maya (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Dr._Maya) | | Sickbay | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy  | 2300 hrs. ] Attn: @Nolan @patches, @Mathis @Jm Von Cat @CanadianVet

Maya was moving past the head nurse duty station to take her post at the medical officer duty station when her acute Vulcan hearing picked up an interesting conversation coming from the open doors of the primary biobed and surgical bay.

One of the many disadvantages for the socially awkward was being unaware of information known only to a priviledged few.  Indeed ‘word of mouth’ was still an effective method of disseminating data even in the 24th century.  Doctor Maya of Vulcan often had to resort to other methods of keeping abreast of current events, such as eavesdropping.  Her people’s hearing was very sensitive and listening to other people’s conversations wasn’t difficult if one knew how to focus.

And focusing was what Doctor Maya was doing now, even though there was a red alert klaxon that was calling everyone aboard to general quarters.  If what Doctor Nicander said was true, the malevolent intelligence infesting Starfleet’s top echelon could possibliy take over the Borg if any one of them were assimilated.  That explained why the Borg were attacking.  The intelligence that had taken over Starfleet had summoned them, probably by using Borg technology that Starfleet had scavenged from earlier attacks.  Doctor Nicander had passed out before he could reveal the secret of the subspace pathways, information that he had inferred could prevent the Borg’s arrival in Federation space. 

As silent as a ghost, she glided past her duty station and the door to the recovery ward to enter the medical storage closet to retrieve the appropriate paraphernalia to achive her purpose.  Within seconds she glided out of the medical stoage closet gripping a hyposyringe filled with the appropriate stimulant and maneuvered past the security personnel that were guarding the entrances into the primary surgical bay.  “Excuse me petty officers,” she murmured dreamily in her lilting mezzosoprano voice as she glided past Ridun and Bremmer, two security noncommissioned officers that she chose to move past because they had been revived recently and had not been on duty when she had been incarcerated.  It would not do for them to know what she intended.

“Doctor Rez,” she greeted distantly as she approached Doctor Nicander’s prone form with a smooth gait that masked the intensity of her motivation.  When she reached her destination the hand that held the hypo darted towards the possessed Câroon’s wrist as quick a a cobra…

…and stopped mere centimeters from Lucan’s skin.  The greenblooded physician pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at the former chief medical officer who was now classified in a limbo between patient, prisoner, and specimen.  Finally she spoke.  “Doctor Rez, I believe the patient has more to reveal to us; information of a vital nature.  I believe that it is imperative that we receive this knowledge in a timely matter.  Therefore I suggest that we revive the patient as soon as possible.”  Her lips twitched strangely before she forced her gaze away from Lucan cin Nicander in order to focus her large hazel eyes on Ameyla.  “The decision, of course, is yours,” she finished as she handed her superior officer the hypo.

[ Cmdr Ranaan Ducote & Lt Kai Akoni | Battle Bridge | Deck 01 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Joint post between Top Hat and @trevorvw Attn: @Auctor Lucan @chXinya @steelphoenix et al

"Commander Ducote, Lieutenant Akoni, you have security experience, correct? Take the security station, prepare teams to repel boarders."

Kai heard nothing else that Lt Cmdr Wenn Cinn said after issuing the orders for the two erstwhile officers of the Endeavour. Which was fair enough; Ducote sensed the immediate mix of relief and excitement that welled in the giant of a man at having a task after so long.

For Ducote's own part, as he was wrenched out of his prayer for Blue's safety, his initial reaction had been one of hesitation. While he could accept, intellectually, that the crew here posed no (current) danger to the survivors of his crew, it was a different thing believing it. What swayed him was that their fates were currently entwined no matter what he thought, and not pulling together could endanger them all. "Come on, Kai. Over here," the commander said, glancing at Kaeris on the way past. He was reasonably sure the scientist would be on board, pragmatic as he was.

About damn time! Kai thought to himself, still  before catching himself and realising that Ducote had spoken. He hadn't heard exactly what Ducote had said, but eventually the Commander had reluctantly turned around and headed for the security station. He followed. The Theurgy's battle bridges followed the Intrepid main-bridge pattern, which if nothing else was testament to the scale of the complete vessel, but it made the relevant stations easy to find.

About a million thoughts and tactical scenarios were flying through Kai's head about all the possibilities. The problem was the Borg - they could project and simulate and strategise just as much as they could, except they had more computing power by orders of magnitude available to them. While Kai's brain galloped ahead, Ducote remained stoic.

Kai strode over to a weapons locker where a diminutive crewman, at least compared to Kai, was standing. This was Kai's first hurdle, to see if the Theurgy crew would trust him and Ducote with weapons.

"We need some phasers, crewman." Kai said loudly and quite insistently to a Security enlisted near one of the exits. Ducote looked up from the console where he was pulling up the Security roster, one eyebrow raised as he looked between his Chief of Security and the Theurgy officers present. The crewman in question didn't even bat an eye before shaking her head apologetically at the lieutenant.

"I'm sorry, sir," she said. "Standing orders; only Theurgy crew may be armed on deck."

"Wh-" Kai began.

"Lieutenant," Ducote said, holding up a hand to show acquiescence to the status quo (even if he still felt naked without his habitual type-I in his pocket). "We'll do without for now." He nodded his head back to his console to indicate the larger man should rejoin him.

"They should set their weapons to a rotating modulation," Kai stated. "I was working on something like that on the Endeavour, but... well, not much use for it there now. No time like the present to test it, though."

The commander nodded. "Draft a recommendation here and send it out. That test is better late than never," he added ruefully.

While he took care of that, Ducote was ordering teams be sent to fortify (with about equal priority) Engineering, Environmental Control, the Main Computer chamber, and the Bridge. The rest were ordered to patrol all decks and to move in groups. He nearly hit send after signing it with his own name before his still-tired brain caught up with the fact that he was now on a different ship, and merely appended 'BRIDGE' in the 'From:' field. No sense muddying the waters with his own... notoriety, for now. He made sure Kai's note about frequency modulation went out signed the same way, too.

Ducote looked over to Kai's panel group, taking a quiet moment to infer what he'd been working on. Kai had been studying the blueprints of the Theurgy for what seemed like hours but in reality was only a minute. While Ducote had been directing the teams towards specific compartments, Kai had taken care of the approaches - pinpointing where they could cut off enemy movement with random-nutation forcefields (or, if things got truly dire, with EPS junction overloads) and flank with Security teams.

Corridor fights against the Borg... Santa Maria preserve us, Ducote mused. He couldn't shake the image of shooting one of his own trapped crew rather than let them be assimilated. Did I decide if that was an act of mercy, an execution before the fact, or a straight-up murder yet? He didn't say anything, though, choosing instead to watch as Security crew moved around the ship in response to their deployment orders.

It's nice to be useful again.. Kai thought as they worked. Ducote, picking up the new contentment from his colleague, couldn't help but agree with the sentiment despite his own inner conflict.

[Lt. Commander Vael Kaeris | Battle Bridge | Deck 8 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy] Attn: Anyone on the bridge

Lacking a station assignment and given the constrained, utilitarian structure of the Battle Bridge, Vael had capitalized on the data PADD he clung to so diligently.  He had interfaced with the Theurgy conn systems in order to monitor the ongoing search for the Borg because, of all on board, he was the most familiar with the protocols and procedures that had been under investigation on board the Endeavour and, frankly, he still did not hold enough trust in the crew of Theurgy to adhere to them faithfully.  Still, he limited his hacking to monitoring only, making no secret of his efforts to any who might happen to pass him -- it was the best option to occupy his time and keep him out of the way of those otherwise tasked with the duties he observed.  True, he could hover obsessively over their shoulder, breathing down their necks as he did, but he found that such activities seldom did anything to further the assigned tasks and was considerably less than ideal for building confidence or competence among the crew.

He made no efforts to insert a command override or even an interface beyond simply monitoring queries to the nearby stations.  That could be seen as overly intrusive at best, threatening at worst, and he was not about to land them back in holding cells again.  At Commander Ducote's approach, Vael gave him a cursory glance, noting the improved grooming as well as the bruising that it now highlighted.  He raised an eyebrow, a clear sign of his curiosity, but made no verbal comment as he showed his PADD to the commander to provide him with an update on the current scans.  As to whether he had secured any rest -- well, the bactrican remained tight lipped to that point, merely detailing how he had seen to quarters for the Endeavour refugees and that they were to contact him directly if they encountered any issues in the interim.  Until they reunited with their ship, Ducote was Captain and he was the second in command, ensuring to the necessary well-being of the crew beneath them, even in such a compromised situation as this.

Word from Sickbay was, simultaneously relieving as to Elro's continued good health, and disturbing at the premise that there may be some connection between the Borg and these so-called parasites that had purportedly taken the Theurgy's CMO to host.  While the concept of a parasitic infection infesting the Borg was a scientific curiosity, it was not one he was prepared or willing to entertain in the wild, and certainly not understaffed and underarmed as they were.

At the mention of an approaching vessel, his focus returned to the PADD, but the bridge commander, the dark skinned bajoran, tasked him to assist one of the crew.  His answers were rapid fire as he strode purposefully towards the one he was assigned to assist.  "Prepare to scatter the bio signs of sickbay to limit their ability to localize and identify potential targets.  If there is concern of your CMO being abducted, it would be logical to place an inhibitor in proximity to keep him from being transported readily.  Further, a monitor could be placed to terminate the patient in the event that he is removed from the ship or upon contact from any potential nanites."  Realizing the coldness of his statement, he turned to look back at the bajoran.  "Strictly as a safeguard against the potential doomsday scenario your doctor has described.  Seek his permission to proceed with those if you need."

That said, he returned his attention to the PADD, reviewing the incoming telemetry for any sign of familiarity.

[ CPO Liam Herrold (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Liam_Herrold) | Tactical CONN Briefing Room | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Blue Zephyr @Masorin
[Show/Hide]As he had approached the row of shelves, Liam had been thinking about what to say to Ji, about how what they were doing was too risky, and that there was a big Gorn in the room that could overhear them, but despite how he had rehearsed those words in his head, all those words were decimated by the kiss that Ji pulled him in for. He must have made some kind of surprised noise in his throat, surely, but even that notion escaped him as Ji pulled him to herself and moulded her body against his, even making him push her up against those shelves.

In the span of that kiss, Liam found himself lost in it, and responding with equal fervour. Whatever smidgen of thought that came to him was whether or not they could do this and not be heard by Sithick, because surely Ji must have seen the big Gorn? Did she get off on almost getting caught all the time? First on top of Covington's desk, where he or Ravon could have walked in any second, and now this? Liam didn't know if he could keep quiet enough to not alert the Gorn, but if Ji really wanted this, despite his misgivings, he'd try and accommodate her.

Suddenly, she whispered to him - quite seriously - asking if he was ashamed to be seen with her. And... in the context of this bold kink of hers to do it in public, Liam thought she asked if he didn't want to do it with her any more. But then, as she continued to whisper against his lips, he realised her question was about their relationship overall. Or at least he thought so. He wasn't sure any more, riled up as he was and not sure about anything besides wanting her. "Oh, I want you," he breathed, kissing her again, "and if you want to risk us being seen... I'm game. I just hope the deck crew won't think less of us if we're finally caught."

Still convinced Ji wanted him right then and there, with a hurry, he would open her jump suit whilst still kissing her, easing it off her body. Then, he would turn her around so that she faced the shelves, letting her take care of her own panties, while he shrugged out of his own jumpsuit off and pulled down his underwear. He would never really stop kissing her, tracing all over her skin, while his hands soon might roam her body.

[ Lt. Tyreke Okafor (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Tyreke_Okafor) | Battle Bridge | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ]
[Show/Hide]Okafor listened to the man from the Endeavour, of course, since the situation was developing into a battle. Yet his current task was the gradual accumulation of the data, and the answer to the mystery disappearance of the warp trail. Focus on this task was imperative. It was essential that they got all the sensor data while they still could, even if there was a vessel inbound and likely about to destroy them. Moreover, since the man wasn't a part of the crew, Okafor did not recognise Kaeris' words as orders. "Good ideas. I'm setting up comm-link for you so that you can reach Doctor Rez directly from this station, but she might have to relay orders about transporter inhibitors and jamming fields around Nicander on site, since I am not sure it can be done from here. I do know that the Brig has transporter inhibitors as standard. I'd suggest moving Nicander there, and defend the area."

All the Lone Wolves triangulated the readings that the interlink sensors pooled into the Sword, and gradually, there was some kind of manifestation in the maelstrom of data. A pattern, corresponding with the behaviour of particles. "It is working," he said to Kaeris, overriding the noise on the bridge to be heard, eyes widening as the shape took form.

And once the shape was there, the negative image of what wasn't there became plainer by the second. "It's not just one... There's... twenty-seven apertures. All of them here, clustered together. Can you see it? They are all openings leading to - or away - from this very heart of the nebula. Yet they... They're closed. Sealed? Yet if we can utilise the data from the Voyager's reports about the Borg and their conduits... we should be able to use a soliton wave to open one of them. But... See the wavelengths? They all appear to have different frequencies. And if I am to guess, it might take hours to find the frequency to open just one of them."

And there was no telling which one the Borg trail had come from, the weakened trail too dispersed over the apertures.

"Captain," said ch'Rayya at the tactical station, his antennae rising along with his eyes. "The unknown vessel. It's right upon us. We have a clear signature now. It's not Borg or Savi. Not even Federation."

Who is it then? With no more time left, Okafor finally entered the command, severing the sensor array interlink and relinquishing the sensor streams back to the bridge and the Lone Wolves. He saw the answer himself on the viewscreen at that point, and he could hardly give credit to his eyes.


- TO BE CONTINUED...

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OOC: These events are continued in Chapter 02: Vantage Points, in part two of the Courage is Fear double feature: LINK (https://uss-theurgy.com/forum/index.php/topic,2430.0.html)