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Interregnum 01-02 S2 / Re: Day 09 [15:30 hrs,] Once Upon the Island
Last post by P.C. Haring -
[ Lt. Cmdr. Hathev | Pirate vessel qu'DuHSum | BIQ'a'bIng Ocean | Unnamed Island | Qo’Nos] Attn: @Ellen Fitz‍ 

Hathev had lost count of the Klingons on the beach as she had been both gunning them down and creating a literal line in the sand that dared anyone to cross.  She thought she had seen one of the Klingons disappear.  She could not immediately determine whether it had been under her fire or some kind of transporter beam.  So when the ship pulled away from the beach and it became apparent that their Klingon pursuers could do so no longer, she stepped down from the turret and froze.

In the briefest of moments, Hathev saw Cross laying on the deck, blood oozing from a head wound and a Klingon approaching her, a blunt weapon dripping in green blood in his raised hand as it swung down towards her own skull. 

Time continued to move at a standstill to her perception.  She saw the site to site transporter beacon on his belt, the adornment of his armor and she knew this was the Klingon commander.  The one who had led the raid, the one who had ruined their vacation, who might have killed Cross, and who wanted to kill her now. 

Logic told her how to react, what movement she should make, and the most efficient way to subdue the attacker.  But none of that mattered as something else happened to her.  Something she did not expect…

Hathev got angry.

As a Vulcan, Hathev experienced the deep and intense level of rage and anger that had almost destroyed her people.  She had learned to control it through logic and discipline.  Since her mind meld with Cross, her ability to exercise that control had been compromised and while she had been able to more or less keep it in check until now.  Even so, she needed to acknowledge and accept that her emotional self would never again be fully silenced.  But in this moment, this blink of time, anger and a growing sense of rage boiled her own green blood.

Her right hand shot up, catching the wrist wielding the war hammer and stopping him cold.  He seemed surprised by her defense but even as he pushed against her with increased force, she immobilized his attack.  Her elbow locked, her leg kicked back bracing her.

“Klingon P’tahk,” she spat, her eyes narrowing

He reached for the dagger at his belt, his hand barely gripping it before the closed fist of her free hand smacked it away, sending the blade overboard.

“I…”

The Klingon tried for a head butt but he telegraphed his movement too clearly and the Vulcan side stepped the attack.  The Klingon’s momentum worked against him and he stumbled forward.  Hathev held her grip on the captured wrist and twisted the arm until the joint gave a satisfying pop and the Klingon growled in pain as his hand released the war hammer.

“...have had…”

His bad arm hanging limp at his side, the Klingon tried to swing wildly at her.  Hathev ducked and caught eye of the transporter beacon on his belt.  He lunged for her again as her hand clamped down on his collar bone and squeezed.

“…enough of…”

The nerve pinch was not as effective on Klingons as it was humans, but it was enough to slow him down long enough for her to tear the beacon from his belt and throw it to the deck behind her.  He found enough strength to bat her arm away.  The motion turned Hathev in her place momentarily putting her back to him and giving him the time he needed to recover and come at her again.

“…YOU!!!”

In the motion of her spin, she had come around, her hand gripping the handle of the Klingon’s fallen war hammer.  She continued the circular motion using her momentum to her advantage as she swung upward at him.

Metal and flesh collided with a sickening crunch as the hammer smashed through the Klingon’s jaw sending flesh, blood and bone flying.  Hathev followed through with a second strike.  His head recoiled with another crunch as he staggered back, his momentum taking him the rail and overboard. 

He did not scream or call out as he fell.  Hathev surmised he might have been dead from the broken bones in his jaw and neck before he hit the water.

She stood there, her chest heaving, as she forced herself to push the anger and rage back into its proper place.  Red Klingon blood mixed with the green Vulcan blood on the hammer in her hand turning both into an ugly shade of brown.

The weapon fell to the deck with a loud thunk and she remembered that Cross had been injured.  Calm control returned to her and she rushed to his side and checked him.  As they did with humans. Vulcan head wounds bled far worse than almost any other and so it was difficult to assess just how badly he’d been hurt just by a visual assessment.  He was awake and groggy, and she was able to assess that his upper spine had not been injured so she deemed it safe to move him.

Even so she was not cavalier as she lifted him in her arms, carried him into the on deck cabin, and set him gently down on the bed which, much to her surprise, actually included a mattress.

She found some old garments in the wardrobe which she was more than happy to tear apart to use as a wipe to staunch the blood and give her time to find a medical kit. 

Rudimentary by Starfleet standards the kit contained a medical tricorder and what looked to be the proper tools to put her first aid skills to use.  The tricorder indicated no concussion.  Training kicked in and she found the Klingon equivalent of the medication needed to stabilize him.  She dosed the medication and then applied the dermal regenerator to the wound to close it.

She set the tricorder to a continuous scan while she washed herself up and ruffled through the wardrobe.  She pulled out a piece, a black body suit with silver armor across the front.  It was sized just smaller than her preference, but she suspected it would fit well enough and she slipped into it while waiting for Cross to wake.
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Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: Ch 4: S [D01 |1830] Second Station from the right and straight on till its over
Last post by Griff -
[Lieutenant Alistair Leavitt | Aerodrome | Erudite ] Attn. @Eden @RyeTanker  @Brutus

[Show/Hide]

On his way back to the aerodrome from meeting Barpin, Alistair got more than a few odd looks from passing Savi. He was, in all fairness, outside the assigned area for the Theurgy crew, and was probably the first alien that many of the Savi had ever seen. His escort, a terse being named Rayui, was the only reason that Alistair wasn't stopped. Still, Rayui set a glacial pace in traversing the giant vessel, ignoring Alistair's increasingly exasperated requests to go faster.

If he'd thought that he could've made it without being stopped or (more likely) shot, Alistair would've ditched Rayui and sprinted flat out to the aerodrome. The idea of the team launching before he reached them was painful. It wasn't that Alistair had critical information or advice. He simply hated the idea of sending people on such a dangerous mission without seeing them first. It just felt...wrong.

Fortunately, Alistair made it to the aerodrome in time, and he sighed in relief when he saw that the Valkyries and shuttles were still there. Still, he limited himself to a brisk stride rather than jogging, if only for appearances. It had to look as if he was a competent leader, even if he was a mess inside.

Finally, as he approached the group, Alistair called out "zh'Wann, Valin, over here." He patiently waited a discreet distance from the rest of the team for Ida and Cal to come to him, giving him a moment to reflect on the absurdity of the moment. Ida had saved his life weeks ago on Praxis, and Cal had been quite aggressively kissed by Alistair's girlfriend just a few days prior, among other activities before that. It would've been comical under other circumstances, instead of just bizarre.

After Ida and Cal reached him, Alistair couldn't help but consider the latter for another moment out of simple curiosity. He immediately saw what attracted Enyd; attractive, confident, maybe a little flair too. Still, time and place.

"Okay, you both know your jobs better than I do," Alistair said, "so I'll keep this brief. The Savi data that you're going after could give us an edge against the Infested. With luck, it'll give us clues to their plans, their resources, maybe more. At a minimum, your raid should draw some enemy ships away from Hobus and give us better odds when we attack the main facility."

Alistair paused. "With all that said: the data is not worth thirty billion lives. In two hours, we are attacking Hobus with or without you, no matter what happens. It's up to both of you to assess the risk during the raid and, if necessary, abandon the mission to join back up with us later. Use your own judgement. Are we clear?"
3
Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: CH2: S [Day1|1900hrs] Show us what you got!
Last post by Krajin -
[ Dominic Winters | Holodeck 3 | Vector 2 | Deck 21 | The Ranger ATTN: @Pierce @Dumedion

Dominic picked up on the complexities of the emotions from his two wingmates here, Goldeneye and Shadow, each with something different to offer. Goldeneye’s want for action and activity was tinged with sadness and worry. Whereas Shadow adopted a colder professionalism to her with a hint of impatience. He listened to her as she described Corsair and his decent stick which had to get his brain buzzing on what that actually implied. Considering that the term ‘stick’ was a euphemism for something else and let's face it, pilots were a randy bunch. Live free, die hard.

Dominic walked his way through the checklist with a precision that you could only get from being a practiced pilot. Every step being done as instructed took time but its time well spent and he followed it well, rather than being a stubborn sort who would rush through it all. A few questions got thrown in, but otherwise, he picked up on it fairly quickly. As soon as the ladder was stowed and Shadow headed to her ship. Dominic looked over the internals and took a deep breath and flexed his hands. In a way, this felt a lot like his first time flying a Peregrine. Something new, rough and wild that would be very unpredictable. He glanced to the control room and then to Shadow. “I’ll do a manual take-off first and guide my way out. Back in my day kiddie-pilots had to do it all manually.” He threw in an old people’s joke to lighten the air. He even switched to an old, strained man voice when he started up in the ‘back in my day’ aspect.

There was a method to his madness though in that learning to perform a manual take-off and landing proficiently increased the Pilot’s survivability and ability to function in an emergency where the ship had no power, low power, or some other emergency. He began to hum a little tune to himself as he took the ship out to the strip with a bit of shakiness at first as he adjusted the controls and got used to the slow speeds first and then took himself out from the landing bay.

[SPACE]

The controls inside were familiar enough for him to handle manual control off the bat with some mild adjustments being needed along the way. He glanced at the navigation display and saw the layout of the system they were in. The Holo-theurgy sat behind them some distance away and he smiled beneath the helmet. The choice of path was certainly unique but not unexpected. This felt a bit like how they did things on the Thunderball years ago when the Peregrines were first handed to a bunch of would-be pilots and volunteers. Though the Peregrine, even when Starfleet manufactured lacked a lot of the fancy toys this thing had. Some of which they shoved into the ship as the war raged from sheer desperation which spurred invention.

He glanced up at Shadow as she did a wonderful lateral arch to be canopy-to-canopy with him and pointed out where the throttle was. “Yeah, I know. It’s why I am petting it like a villain petting their cat.” He responded easily. He’d kept the ship at a matched speed for the time being until they had come to a stop and stared out at the path before them. Now it was to really get a feel for it as he gripped the control stick with one large, armored hand while the other settled on the throttle. He shifted his hand forward and set the throttle to half-impulse at first and shot off along the path. “Lets see what the path holds for us!” Atlas is not the steadiest with the ship as he starts flying in and around the asteroids of rock and ice. Though it is quickly apparent he’s adjusting fairly quickly with how the ship handles, like fitting a new glove and getting used to it. There are plenty of near misses though he has either deliberately or not.
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Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: CH 2: S [Day 01 | 1857 hrs] Expectations
Last post by joshs1000 -
[CPO Avandar Lok | Arboretum Cafe | Deck 20| Vector 03 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @Ellen Fitz
[Show/Hide]

Lok nodded in agreement with Cross’s statement about the efficiency of Klingon crews. He himself was usually pretty quick to leap to their defense when more ignorant minded people attempted to disparage them for being Klingon. Granted such instances of prejudice were rare these days among Starfleet personnel but were a bit more common among certain sects of the civilian population. At least such prejudices weren’t nearly as bad as they say a century ago.

Then Cross brought up the topic of what was essentially Klingon flirting. Luckily Lok had fur or the senior officer would have been able to see the redness of his cheeks, but his ears did fold back a bit and felt hot from embarrassment.

“Well I uh…I mean sure -uh yeah, I’ve…been on the receiving end of that from some Klingon women in the past, but I let them know politely I wasn’t interested”, he replied, trying to dodge the topic. One of Martok’s aide’s did in fact make a pass at him, though he, the aide, preferred the more traditional role of a Klingon male in such things and instead read Lok some old fashioned love poetry he had written. The two didn’t meet properly then, it actually was a few weeks later while Lok was on leave at Deep Space 9 where they hit it off. Who knew there could also be a softer side to a Klingon? They hadn’t spoken in a number of years, not since Lok’s father passed. Lok wouldn’t tell any of this to Cross of course, he barely knew the man after all. He did add though as a way to perhaps add a bit of humor to his response, “...I only had my jaw broken by one of those women once for rejecting them so I think I came out of it ok.”

“As for Martok though”, he further added, “I think he was just sizing me up as a worthy adversary of some kind…at least that is what I was told…and I think his chuckle was probably him concluding he would win. I’m not really a trained fighter so he was probably right.”

He grinned and listened as Cross told his own story about what must have been a rather strange if ridiculous affair at a Klingon museum. “Well at least it made the museum interesting”, Lok responded with a chuckle. “Did you get in any trouble for it? Damaging property and all that.”

“I’ve never run into anything like that since I joined, but they also don’t send knuckle draggers and grease monkeys like myself to museums.”
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Interregnum 01-02 S2 / Re: Day 6 [ 1300hrs. ] Let's Get Physical
Last post by Sqweloookle -
[ Lieutenant Elro Kobol | Hirek's Quarters | Deck 17 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Ellen Fitz sorry kinda extending it a little.

Even as he enjoyed the compliment that he was pleasing to the Romulan's senses the two were suddenly pressing their bodies together and Hirek's lips were brushing over his. Elro moaned as he heard Hirek declare that he was indeed 'delicious', a soft chuckle escaped his lips as Hirek stepped away and towards the replicator.

He was up for trying some Romulan cuisine, though he frowned as he walked over to stand by Hirek. "Unfortunately our replicators won't be able to make your Ale, it's against the law. So the programming won't allow it, though if you can find similar ingredients in the database we could see how that goes." Elro said, his tone sad that he couldn't try the forbidden Ale.

A moment later Elro smiled. "I will be happy to try the Mollusks for certain," he added, for several moments he wondered if there was perhaps a beverage from Betazed that they could drink instead. "Oh how about you try Uttaberry wine? That is until we find some Ale in our travels."
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Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: CH2: S [Day1|1900hrs] Show us what you got!
Last post by Dumedion -
[Ens. Talia “Shadow” Al-Ibrahim | Training Simulation | Holodeck 3 | Deck 21 | Vector 3 | The Ranger] Attn: @Pierce @Krajin
[Show/Hide]
Once Atlas had settled in the box, Shadow followed up the ladder. A shoulder twitched at his question while she synced up her own preflight checklist to her ship, that way they could both launch together. Talia hesitated a second before she replied, her voice modulated back into a tone of blunt professionalism in an effort to reign in her impatience. Most of the Wolves and crew that had met her would recognize it as her ‘default’ approach to people; a monotonous drawl clipped with her Arabic accent.

“I have yet to run into any issues, personally. R&D split plenty of hairs testing this platform. Every lesson learned from the 307s was incorporated into the mk. III design; software, hardware, the works. Corsair can and will tell you all about it, given the opportunity. He was one of the test pilots. Good guy, friendly. Man is a walking tech manual,” Shadow smiled, “Decent stick, too,” she added with a respectful nod.

She smirked at Atlas' affirmation of ‘hands-on’ instruction, for Shadow felt the exact same way.

“Alright. Step one, power up safe mode – ops console, left – input key access and initialize. Verify power output and system diagnostics...”

Her arms folded upon the edge of Atlas’ cockpit while Talia walked him through preflight – working through the steps and procedures slowly and methodically. After every step, the ritual was paused in order for her to explain where each function was located, activated, then deactivated in order for Atlas to repeat the process; just like Talia had been trained. Time and repetition would take care of the rest, until he could do it in his sleep, like all the Wolves.

A few moments later, Talia watched Goldeneye's ship soar the bay and out into the void, lips pulled into a smirk. “Tessa’s antics take some getting used to, so I’ve been told. We’d better hustle before she gets bored and stirs shit up,” the pilot chuckled to herself, then returned her attention to the task at hand. Atlas’ ship hummed with readiness; only the canopy and ladder remained. “Okay, looks like you’re all set,” Talia threw a quick thumbs up. “Signal ready up to the tower and the tractors will do the rest. I’ll pop your ladder in,” she nodded to him, then dropped down to the deck. Once the ladder was stowed, Shadow flicked him a lazy salute as she backed away to her own bird, then donned her helmet just in time to hear Goldie’s voice again.
 
“Copy,” Shadow smirked at the excitement in her wing-mate’s voice as she climbed the ladder up to her cockpit. “We’re set for launch, Goldeneye. Be there in a minute,” the pilot grunted as she climbed in, lowering the canopy as Atlas taxied off into launch position. Talia settled in and followed seconds later.

[Space]

She stayed low on Atlas’ wing as they flew to Goldeneye’s position, dark eyes scanning the haptic projection of the system on her navigation console. There wasn’t much to see, really; a binary system of eight planets, two asteroid belts of medium density, with a ranged list of extrasolar celestial bodies – comets, some of them dozens of AUs out.

A brow arched at Goldeneye’s eccentric choice of flight plan; the erratic line glowed yellow as it zig-zagged all over the system in a hap-hazard path. Well, whatever, Talia shrugged. Not exactly conventional, but at least it’s not boring. A finger tapped open the shared coms channel between all of them.

“Coming up on your six Goldeneye. Rocks look pretty – bit surprised you’re not shooting them - easy enough to navigate through, though,” Shadow announced, then smirked at the unimpressive field of ice and rocks ahead, just within visual of where her wing-mate parked. Once they’d all lined up abreast, Talia switched over to manual control and rolled her Valkyrie in a smooth lateral arch that brought her canopy to canopy with Atlas, close enough to almost graze his shields. Her head tilted up to him with a smile.

“Throttle’s on your left big guy,” Shadow winked, then gestured ahead. “After you.”
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Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: Chapter 4: When you wish upon a star [ Day 1 | 1400 ]
Last post by RyeTanker -
[Lt (JG) XamotZark zh’Ptrell (Lt. Zark) | Aerodrome of the Erudite]

@Brutus @ob2lander961 @Eirual @Griff @Tae @Sqweloookle @Eden

Lieutenant Zark stared at what was supposed to be a pile of alneesh on flatbread.  She frowned as she took her fork to poke it a few times. She speared a piece of meat and picked it up and smelled it.  It confirmed her earlier nasal assessment that it didn't smell like a whole lot of anything.  There was some food smell, but it was really faint.  Thinking back on the Savi themselves, she had to wonder if their small or almost non existent noses somehow changed their perspective on food.  Looking around, she saw a few plates that had some food missing, so people had tried to eat what was in front of them.  They didn't seem to be on the floor dying, so she presumed it was safe to eat.  Maybe there had been a programming incompatibility between the Theurgy's database and the Savi replicator. Sighing, she speared the food and bit in.  The first thought that hit her mind was Meh. At the same time, she stuck her tongue out in disgust at the idea that food could be so bland.  Maybe the Savi had lost culinary artistry over time.

The food was so bland and boring that it was easy to sense the approaching body.  She recognized the voice immediately and felt a shiver run through her anyway even though the Betazoid was simply asking a question of concern.  Turning to her, Zark gave a sad smile.  "It's the food Faye, The Savi's replicators managed to butcher this examplar of Andorian culinary creativity."  Zark looked at the food again . "Okay, butcher is a bit far for what they did, but they've somehow managed to suck the soul out of the food."

Sighing, Zark was about to toss the fork onto the plate, but at the same time she needed to eat.  Looking up again, she spotted her boss talking to the mission commander and an idea struck her.  "Wait here hun."  Grabbing the plate, she brought the plate of blandness over to Lieutenant Ida. "Sir, have you had a chance to try the food yet?  It's an experience."  The other Zhen looked at her exec, then at the food for about a minute, then back at her exec suspiciously. "Why specifically is this an 'experience'?"  The implied air quotes hung heavily. Zark shrugged and simply offered the plate.  Ida followed the same protocol as the medic and looked around the mess hall first.  The Deputy also noticed that no one was on the ground dying or in pain, but there definitely was a general mailaise.  Ice blue eyes narrowed on blue-green ones in suspicion. "And you've tried the food?"  The medic nodded and Ida sighed then took a piece and smelled it first.  Her own confusion began to grow as she tried to sniff the food, bringing it closer and closer to her nose.  Giving up, Ida put the foodstuff in her mouth and chewed very slowly.  Feeling it was tested enough, she dropped the grey mass out and turned to Lieutenant Leavitt. "I see, this is a probem.  Mr.Leavitt, we need to have the replicators examined so they can produce something palatable.  Our people won't be mentally prepared for the mission if they find our emergency rations were the tastiest thing they had on this expedition."

Zark blinked and grinned at the dead pan joke her boss had just delivered.  There was an unsightly urge to giggle, but she pulled in her lips to stifle the attempt. The security head nodded. "Thank you Lieutenant. Carry on."  Lieutenant Zark nodded at this turned back to where Faye was waiting. "Well, hopefully our bright boys and girls will be able to get the system producing something good enough for us to eat." A sudden thought crossed Zark's mind as she looked at Faye and she couldn't help it as gave a very leery grin.  "On the other hand, if we're really hungry, we'll eat just about anything, so what say you about going to build up an appetite." The Zhen bit her lower lip and bobbed her eyebrows. If she was going to have to wait, she'd at least enjoy herself in the mean time.

~FIN~
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Interregnum 01-02 S2 / Re: Day 10 [1326] Chaos in the Clouds of Qo'Nos
Last post by Ellen Fitz -
[ Lt. Enyd Isolde Madson | Mekro'vak Region | Qo'noS ] ATTN: @Eden

Though Cal’s spirits seemed to have rallied, and he both physically and verbally attempted to assuage her tender nerves, Enyd couldn’t quite bring herself to offer much more than a wobbly smile in response to his good-natured comments. She was further blocked from commenting by the approach of two older females, both wearing matching grins of impish delight. Without asking permission, one bent down and tied a crimson tassel around Enyd’s thigh, laughing at the diplomat when she let out a squeal of surprise when the rough hands pushed the tassel further up her thigh until it disappeared beneath the makeshift tunic and Enyd could swear she felt the ruffle of the tassel tickle the edge of her mons. Looking over to Cal, she saw a similar action had been taken with him only his tassel was black, and the woman lecherously lingered attention on his leg until her companion swatted her away, and they left with matching barks of laughter.

“I don’t know what this is,” Enyd shrugged when she caught Cal’s attention, “I’m hoping Rik’evet explains.” She nodded toward the older man, who was once more heading in their direction, looking equally amused and tired.

He handed glasses of refreshing water to the both of them before moving to stand between them, facing toward the fire and the cleared area around where the rest of the clan seemed to be taking up position as if in expectation for some sort of show.

“Though they placed the ruS without bothering to ask if you’re interested or physically able to participate, they will understand if you choose not to. They are aware of your injuries, and you would not lose honor if you decided to abstain from this ritual.”

Enyd looked over Rik’evet’s shoulder toward Cal before pressing for more information, “What kind of ritual is this?”

“Most clans no longer follow it, but ours does, so count yourself lucky I suppose, in your exposure.” Glancing down at their disheveled nature, Rik’evet laughed. “Incredibly lucky. It is the bI’reS nalqaD, or the feigned mating ritual. The playmate perhaps? There’s no easy translation.” He pointed toward Cal’s leg. “Basically, the ritual dictates that the man and woman participating do whatever is necessary to remove the tassel with their teeth, and only their teeth. For those already mated, the victorious one is considered the household leader for a period of time, regardless of gender. For those not yet mated, it is more just an opportunity for the clan to witness their compatibility or lack thereof. Just because a challenger wins the right to mate doesn’t mean the mating itself would be viable, and this is a way of ensuring that those who should be mated are thusly mated.”

Enyd could already see this going very, very, very wrong. And yet the diplomatic, curious side of her was already egging her own, desperate for her to accept even when she still felt like death warmed over.

“So in the case of not yet mated, what does the victorious one win? Aside from a tassel in their teeth?”

Rik’evet laughed, “The right to finish their mating and great honor amongst the clan.” He angled a look at Enyd, “Were you hoping for trigok tusks or something?”

“Yes,” Enyd laughed, “I actually was. Since neither Cal nor I are technically from your clan, but if we choose to do this we would be entertaining your clan, I am curious if it could be arranged for the victorious one to have a token in addition to the honor…and right to mate.” Enyd barely whispered the last but Rik’evet heard it nonetheless and laughed.

“If you both agree to this, I can guarantee you won’t walk away empty-handed. And, to assist you both in this, I do have a tonic you can drink that will boost your vitality and ease your aches.” Giving them both a nod, he added, “I’ll go get the tonic and leave you to discuss.”

Enyd watched him leave before glancing over her shoulder at Cal, “What do you say to an encore?”
9
Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: CH. 3 S [Day 01 | 1315] Seeding Unknown Soil
Last post by Ellen Fitz -
[ Crewman 3rd Class Jordan Wilde | Arboretum| Deck 22 | Vector 3 | USS Theurgy ] @AbsintheDeux

“Your masters?” Jordan exchanged a look with Brad. “You don’t look at your superior officers as masters, do you? You may be a plant or something, but you have your own free will, sentience, and the like. We aren’t a service based on slavery.”

Brad stepped closer, boldly swinging an arm across the purple-haired woman’s shoulders. “If anyone ever expects you to treat them like a master or anything, just let us know, and we’ll set them straight.”

As Brad began to lead their small group further along the paths of the arboretum, Jordan’s combadge chirped. “Wilde here.”

[ “We’ve received information from Martok’s aides that warrants further investigation. The CDO wants both Intelligence and our department to work on these leads together. Best come back as soon as possible.” ]

Jordan looked up, ready to tell Brad and Artemis about the message, but spying them already coming back towards her, she figured they’d received a similar message. Brad looked disappointed to have his free time cut short, but Jordan was happy to be back at work. She didn’t like idle time.

“We’ll probably see you again soon, Artemis,” Jordan commented as they entered the turbolift to head back to their respective offices. “Seems like our departments are going to be working together a lot over the next few days on some leads.” Jordan left the turbolift first, leaving Brad with the new transfer. “Take care.” She gave them both a friendly wave before hurrying back toward the diplomatic offices.

Since the leads had come in from Martok’s aides directly, she could only assume they entailed a lot of cloaks, daggers, and delicate matters that could easily cause complete chaos.
10
Parallel Universes - "What if?" / Re: [2376] Entanglement of Chaos
Last post by Ellen Fitz -
[Ens. Enyd Isolde Madsen | Safe House | Cardassia Prime ] ATTN: @RyeTanker

While Zark occupied herself with the tech, Enyd caught the gaze of the Ghin and Javec. “Let me try my hand at Luske Ontatt.”

The Ghin laughed, “You?” He nearly doubled over in laughter. “You think you can get more information out of him than me?”

“It depends on the information,” Enyd remained calm in the face of his mockery, “some information doesn’t require brutality. And as you said, he basically delights in the more brutal tactics because it allows him to build up mental and physical barriers.” She gave a noncommittal shrug. “Doesn’t seem to be a reason why I can’t try.”

Javec mimicked her earlier shrug, looking over to the Ghin until the hardened man grumbled his agreement. Enyd hopped off the table, immediately shorter than both men. She sashayed past them, confident that she could get something from Ontatt, even if only from his body language and non-answers.

She found him tied to a chair in a pool of his own blood. The Ghin stood in the doorway behind her and signaled the rest of his men out, though he intentionally left the door open. Ontatt’s breathing was a shuddering rasp at this point, and from his hunched-over stance, Enyd deduced he’d retreated someplace else mentally. Much as she’d done when he’d been having a go at her.

“Hello again,” Enyd kept her voice even when she spoke, moving over to the table where the Cardassians kept their interrogation tools. Further back on the table was a med kit, which Enyd snagged before grabbing the only other chair in the room and dragging it across the floor until it was just beside Ontatt’s. “You’re looking a bit worse than when we last spoke.”

Ontatt said nothing and made no exterior movement, signaling that he even recognized her presence. Enyd took this as a good sign and hummed to herself. She opened the kit and removed the cleaning paraphernalia necessary to prevent infection while prepping his wounds for further treatment.

“The nice thing about rebuilding a civilization after such a massive reset is that even the most seemingly insignificant of people can make quite a big mark.” Unsurprisingly, Ontatt didn’t flinch when she began, still sitting catatonic and leaving Enyd to continue her babbling. “In a way, there’s more profit to be made the longer things remain unstable. Off-planet do-gooders continue to pump resources into the system that can be tapped into. It is really quite a profitable set-up. One even the Ferengi would delight in.”
The latter comment got a marginal snort from the older Cardassian but nothing else. Enyd stood from the chair and shifted to the man’s side, rolling his head upward and back, cradling it against her stomach as she worked to clean the various cuts on his face.

“Even so, there comes a time when the one making all this profit may think about legacy, either their own or for the ones they consider family. What will it be? And who will safeguard it?” She got the first flinch, but again, he remained quiet, his gaze focused on the distance. “Instability for too long risks another reset, and another, and another, and there’s no guarantee that those who profited from the first reset will survive to profit from the subsequent ones.” She let go of his head and returned to the med kit, switching out for the dermal regenerator. She started on his hands. “Civilisations that last the longest all have a necessary underbelly, and while there is the figurehead of power that is seen by all neighboring worlds, that figurehead is only given their power by the one who controls the underbelly. This is true even of the Federation, though the fanatical higher-ups would deny it.”

She began working on his neck, pausing only when she heard the door open and new voices filling the exterior room. Those must be the plainclothes her CDO had sent.

“If someone asked my opinion, which rarely happens surprisingly enough, I’d advocate for withdrawal from Cardassia as soon as possible. Let Cardassia jockey amongst their own factions for who will be the next in control, both officially and unofficially. Ideally, we’d be good neighbors and not have to repeat the mistakes of our past, but we don’t necessarily have to be best friends. And neither would Cardassia have to join the Federation. There are plenty of reasons not to, and anyone who says otherwise is a nincompoop.”

“Nincompoop?” Ontatt’s raspy voice interrupted her words and her work. Enyd paused, dermal regenerator hovering over his cheek. Her gaze collided with his as he spoke again. “I’ve never heard that term before.”

Enyd laughed, “Oh, that’s something my grandmother always said. I was raised by her mostly after my parents died on away missions. She was very old-fashioned and, well, rather influential on the terms I use. It is a fun word to say, isn’t it?”

Ontatt merely hummed acknowledgment before falling silent. There was a knock at the door before Enyd could push further, both with her healing efforts and coaxing. It was one of the men from the CDO.

“We have an update we’d like to share out here when you’re available.”

Enyd nodded, waiting until he backed away again before she looked back to Ontatt. They studied each other for a few silent moments, Enyd wordlessly pleading with him to share.

“Do I have anything to share with them?” She set aside the dermal regenerator.

“What guarantees do I have from the likes of you and Starfleet? You just said, ideally, you’d pull out and leave the planet to wrestle itself back into some semblance of normalcy. Why should I share anything with you when you have no interest or loyalty to the Cardassian people?”

Enyd gave a breathy snort, “And making a profit off the backs of those very Cardassians, allowing them to continue in misery and instability instead of using your channels to pump in more opportunities for growth, is loyalty to Cardassia?” Enyd shook her head at the man. “No, sir, you cannot make excuses for remaining silent when you’ve been the villain to your own story long enough. We are neither villain nor hero here. Apathetic bystanders at worst, or over-involved and enthusiastic pragmatics at best. You’re looking at the enthusiastic pragmatic. I think you are a good person to have on the side of rebuilding. You have connections to the underbelly that the Federation would balk at and that the new propped-up leader would have to officially balk at as well, but we both know the leadership of this planet cannot and will not stand without power, true power, coming in from all sides. The question is whether you have a creative enough mindset to visualize your part of the future of this planet or if you’ll continue to play hard to get and make yourself obsolete. And quite dead if that’s the case.”

Giving him an archaic salute, Enyd backed away, “I don’t think I have to tell you that your decision should be made soon. Pretty sure you’re only going to be alive for as long as any of us Starfleet personnel are around unless you start making yourself more useful.” Enyd blew him a kiss for good measure before turning on her heel and joining the others outside.

Enyd moved to stand next to Zark as the report was made. The confirmation that Atha Ono and Jassarac had been sighted nearby earlier that day, according to scans, was an unsurprising update. Enyd had already presumed the Bajoran terrorist and Orion brute no longer saw Ontatt as useful and had sought to end their business relationship in a particularly spectacular way. The news from the tech that the transfer had been set up by a Ferengi middleman and the numerous droplets of evidence that pointed toward a heavier Bajoran involvement in recent violence and upheaval on the planet were more surprising.

“Have there been recent promotions or transfers in the Bajoran government? Anyone with ties to the old resistance cells?” Enyd asked once the report was finished. “If ever there was a time to ensure an old enemy stayed down, it would be now.”
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