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Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: Ch 3 S [ Day 1 | 1200hrs ] ALL ABOARD the Crazy Train!
Last post by JacenSoloDjo -
[Conference Lounge | D. 8 | V. 2 | USS Theurgy ] ATTN: @Ellen Fitz‍ 

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

"Fair enough, Commander."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And I also expect being the newbie I'll be given the graveyard shift?" As if she had a problem with that; she did her best work in the dead of night with no distractions. Even if 'dead of night' was slightly relative on a starship. She really was trying to be less of a Gamma Shift fiend, though. Honest.
2
Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: Ch 4 S [ Day 01 | 1915 ] The Remains of a Crew
Last post by Ellen Fitz -
[ Schipen qi Sanquis Somnium | Lab 1 | Alternative Asteroid Station | Romulan Space ] ATTN: @Dree

Reading the monitors, Schipen’s eyes widened subtly. Leaning forward, his fingers danced over the console twice more before he spoke up. He’d not wanted to interrupt the lead scientist during his interview with the specimen. That was never an acceptable option.

“Sir, based on these readings, it appears that this creature is entirely separate from any of the other specimens we’ve collected from the human ship.” Turning to show Aercidthal  the readings, Schipen continued. “We’ve never had a specimen like this before, at least not according to the records I have on hand.”

Schipen watched his superior’s face, noting the subtle increase in the man’s breathing as the excitement of a new discovery set upon his shoulders. Standing back up to his full height, Aercidthal gave Schipen a nod of approval.

“Pull up procedures 12-Y-R9-3Z and A4-G-0B-M6. I would like to see what exposure to those elements and stimulation will do to this specimen.”

Glancing sideways to the filthy human, he sniffed. He’d made the right decision. This man, if it was even a man, was far more interesting and useful for his studies than she. He’d already had his fill of female humans of various ages, and none of the recent specimens had offered Aercidthal anything remotely new or useful for his studies. His assistant spoke up, interrupting Aercidthal’s thoughts.

“Procedures cued up, and processes inputted into the machines. Awaiting your initiation.”

Aercidthal stepped closer to the “man” strapped to his examination chair. He gently traced fingers along the creature’s hairline before grabbing its chin and twisting its head to catch its gaze. They’d only barely begun the examination, and already there was the familiar glaze of pain interrupting conscious thought. How…weak.

“Initiate.” Aercidthal broke contact, not wanting to overstimulate his own body and cross-contaminate the readings.

[ Cythal qi Sanquis Somnium | Alternative Asteroid Station | Romulan Space ]

The Scion stopped outside the cell, dutifully pressing the button to inject its occupants with the necessary nourishment required to keep them alive but certainly not energetic. Because of the limited space, each of these cells held two specimens. Cythal knew their lead scientist would prefer the isolation factor, but they would have to make due unless he culled their specimen group as he’d done back on the ship.

Shifting to the side, Cythal peered through the viewing port at the two occupants of this cell. One was a green-haired human female, looking quite well “interviewed” after her first session with Aercidthal. The other was a strange thing, a creature Cythal had never seen before. Though it was bipedal like a human it also appeared fairly animal-like, and even then, it looked to be between stages of shifting from one form to another, with bits of human-like flesh showing here and there, one paw hosting two fingers among the rest of the paw, and so forth. Most strange indeed.

Cythal smiled. That meant the lead scientist would be in a good mood, having already done a preliminary examination of this creature. Equally happy that they could make such headway with their scientific studies, Cythal moved on to the next cell to administer the nutritients and so forth, leaving the tortured occupants to the cell alone, for the time being.
3
Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: Ch 3 S [ Day 1 | 1200hrs ] ALL ABOARD the Crazy Train!
Last post by Ellen Fitz -
[ Cmdr. Cross | Conference Lounge | D. 8 | V. 2 | USS Theurgy ] ATTN: @JacenSoloDjo

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

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

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

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

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

“Your quarters are on deck 7, vector 1. This is convenient as you’ll be remaining with the Helmet to assist with what we can only assume to be an…interesting time between the Klingons and Romulans.” Tipping his head to the side, Cross allowed himself a moment to imagine what sort of chaos would undoubtedly unfold once all three groups were together. He couldn’t help the subtle sigh at the thought. Bringing his attention back to the woman across from him, Cross angled a small smile towards her. “I’m sure you have questions.”
4
Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: Ch 4: S [D01 |1830] Second Station from the right and straight on till its over
Last post by RyeTanker -
[Lieutenant ThanIda zh'Wann (Lt. zh'Wann or Ida) | Shuttle Klarc-Tarn-Droth | Hobus System] @Tae @Eden @ob2lander961

[Approximately after 0800 the following day]

Lieutenant zh'Wann's cold face hid whatever trepidation she felt about their current mission.  The morning had been tense for everyone as it was possible it would be the last time that everyone would see each other alive.  In her case, it was worse since she was taking a much smaller team to a hazardous location.  The thought of having to deal random mini big bangs in order to secure a portion of the facility temporarily, extract whatever data they could find on the Infested's plan, then destroy the station was a tall order under any circumstances.  Doing it against a technologically superior race was something else.  The Andorian gave a small smile as the shuttle zoomed through space towards the objective for there was one advantage the Theurgy crew had, and that it was more ready to fight for their objective than the Savi.  A decade of tumult in a quadrant would do that to an organization and while some in Starfleet had wanted a return to the 'good ole days' as some called them; many others were not.  When she'd given her team's part of the briefing to the assembled crew, it was so everyone had an idea of what each component was up to, but mainly it was for the Betazoid diplomat's knowledge so she could juggle the needs of both missions and hopefully intervene if necessary to support the survival of each one.

The Deputy stretched her neck in her armour as Chief Petty Officer Garvan Dixon piloted the shuttle towards the station at something that was considered 80% of max impulse speeds, but still below maximum rated output really was after Ensign vanVinter had finished the modifications to the shuttle's systems.  He wasn't planning on using max output till he reached a calculated point approximately twenty minutes away that full power would be used.  Hopefully it would be close enough and not eat into the reserve that could destroy the shuttle if mishandled.  Ida looked at the back of the shuttle and saw apprehension written all over everyone's faces, even the small armoured security team that was checking and re-checking rifles, isomagnetic disintegrators, pistols, knives, grenades, and armour systems. A few were also checking the new device that had come out of the Theurgy's time at Qo'nos, courtesy of Lieutenant zh'Ptrell and Kala's collaboration; a portable defence turret.  It had passed the necessary tests, but the current doctrine on how to use it was still up in the air.  This left a lot of room for creativity and Lt. zh'Wann still remembered when the other Zhen had used it on her during an exercise by tossing it behind her team and using it to clear her barricade.  She could still remember the medic sticking her tongue out when the Deputy had come around from being stunned.

The security officer shook her head and the metaphorical cob webs from her reminisces when she looked at the console in the shuttle as they approached the imaginary bubble in space that indicated the time they should go to max thrust.  "Chief, how is the shuttle handling? "Still flies like a shuttle, but I can feel she wants to go faster."  The Deputy didn't question the metaphysical belief that had assigned the small craft a gender.  If it made the pilot more confident, so be it.  Looking out the viewport, she could barely make out the fighters that were escorting the shuttle in.  She guessed they would be happy to be free of the comparatively lumbering shuttle, and it had been interesting following the more manoeuvrable Wolves through several debris fields and a gas cloud to mask their approach.  At least the Chief had thought it was fun.  Unfortunately the amount of cover available in the final approach was minimal, so it was going to be up to the pilots of the fighters to see the boarding team through.  "Sir, I have the landing zone located and am plotting a course for it."  "Understood Chief, take us in."

The Erudite, being much more familiar with Savi energy signatures, had identified several areas of possible high computation on the station and provided them as target coordinates for the team to easily infiltrate.  These were near the surface of the station, and not wanting to be scrambled in a transport, Ida had opted to demo their way to the objective after attaching the shuttle via a docking collar. "Going to max impulse."  The shuttle leapt forward appreciably as the station began to grow in size.  Their energy signature must have become massive and impossible to ignore angry red markers sprouted on the sensor screen and Lieutenant zh'Wann knew the Savi were reacting.  She could only watch as the fighters peeled off to punch a hole through for the shuttle.


Shoutout to @Brutus and @Griff for Faye and Alistair being mentioned in passing.

5
Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: Ch 3 : The Meeting of Heroes (or Villains) [ Day 1 | 1500+]
Last post by Eirual -
[Kelistina Kavot Droga | Bridge Crew Mess Hall | Deck 01 | Vector 01 | 2000hrs]
ATTN:  @Nesota Kynnovan  @AbsintheDeux @Brutus @Stegro88 @Ellen Fitz @GroundPetrel @P.C. Haring @Nolan  @Juzzie @JacenSoloDjo 


Kelistina was not certain if she would be welcome even though she had been informed of the gathering and was invited to attend. She was told it would be a formal event, so she painstakingly worked to create what on her planet would have been considered a rather plain version of one of the ceremonial gowns similar to those worn during the selection ceremonies.

Layers of different colored fabric strips connected together at the neck but left to hang free, adorned with some very small items as decorations to identify her station as a mechanic along the waist line. This allowed the colored fabric to flow freely around her body for the most part but still not fly about. This was worn over a loose-fitting shift that reached to the ground in a pale cream color.

She unbraided her hair, allowing it to fall down her back. It had grown so long now that it was almost to her waist. Looking at her reflection she felt a pang of sorrow that she would never have her own ceremony. After taking a deep breath she slipped her feet into soft sandals, and exited the assigned quarters and followed the directions to the Bridge Crew Mess, a place on the ship she had never been before and had never expect to be.

As she walked down the corridor from the lift she saw two crewman near a doorway. She was fairly certain this was the location of the party, but not absolutely certain, so she stopped and spoke in halted basic, “The big happy meet here?”

One of the officers gave her a smile and nodded, “Welcome to the Bridge Crew Mess and formal dining Hall!” He stepped slightly to the side and made a sweeping arm gesture towards the door. “Much appreciation from Kelistina,” She replied with a slight bow. Ducking down as she stepped into the room she froze for a moment and forced herself not to turn and run when she saw the Kling-onz.

She moved along the side of the room, looking for someone, anyone, that she knew and began to doubt her decision to attend.

6
Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: Ch 4 S [ Day 01 | 1915 ] The Remains of a Crew
Last post by Dree -
[ Ens. Sashenka Kreshkova | Lab 1 | Alternative Asteroid Station | Romulan Space ] ATTN: @Ellen Fitz

The sun shown down full on the small lake surrounded by trees, but the breeze went a long way to mitigating the heat that could have rained down on the green-haired young woman.  Sasch sat on the pier dangling her toes into the water.  She kicked her feet forward and backward gently stirring up the pond creating several series of ripples emanating from the spot underneath her. 

“Saaaaash.”  A mature female voice called, but either the younger woman didn't hear the voice or she had chosen not to reveal that she heard.  Instead, she raised her face to the sun feeling its rays kiss her cheeks.  She enjoyed it's warmth.  It was almost as if the warmth had wrapped itself around her, cradling her in its arms, sheltering the petite young woman.

“Sashenka,” the voice said with more authority.  And yet the young woman still didn’t move.  Why should she?  The wind blew across her skin almost as if it was whispering to her.  Had the sun gone behind a cloud?  The breeze cooled her more than she would have guessed it would and dotted her skin with goosebumps.

“Sashenka Kreshkova!”  the woman said with some bite in her voice.  This time the green-head turned toward the voice. 

“Mama," the green-haired human declared, "I'm busy.”

“Too busy doing nozhing to acknowledge your Mama?” A short, bordering on plump, brunette walked up beside the woman sitting on the pier.

Sash looked up at her mother, having to shield her eyes from the sun.  “I’m acknowledging you now,” the younger said.  Her tone betrayed the love that the two shared despite not wanting to acquiesce to leaving her spot.

“It's time to go, Lapa.”  She came to stand beside her daughter and nudged the youngster's shoulder with her knee.  "Ve cannot stay long."

"Mamaaaa,"  the child cajoled.

"Now, Sasch," her mother looked down on her.  Were those tears in her eyes? "I vish ve had more time, but ve don't.  You are needed."

“Can I haf tventy more minutes, Mama?  Please?”  But as the younger woman asked, suddenly her wrists felt heavy.  She looked down at them, finding them shackled to the pier.  She raised her eyes to the older woman’s.  “Mama?”

“I am here for you, Lapa.  When you zhink you cannot take any more, remember, I’m here.”  Her mother reached out and gently caressed her cheek.  “Just close your eyes and picture me.  I vill be vizh you.”

“Mama?” the girl asked as a bright light - much brighter than the sun lit up a spot not far from her. 

But the elder woman had disappeared.

Sash’s breathing sped up as her eyes searched near and far for the woman who had just been at her side.  “Mama?  Mama!?" she called loudly.  She tried to move her arms, but they were restrained.  The Russian tried to stand up, but her feet were immobile.

At that moment the young woman was woken by a blood-curdling scream.  Deep blue eyes flew open.  Her hands were shackled above her head and her feet were shackled together with a chain that was threaded through a metal loop in the floor. 

Sash’s eyes didn't have to search far to find the source of the cry.  An, apparently human, man lay in the middle of one of the brightest circles of light that she had ever seen.  It was hard to even look at the figure because of the brightness. 

But as she squeezed her eyes closed, another combination of scream and growl emanated from the man's lips.  Squinting against the light, Sash saw a table on which the tortured man was fastened.  He, like Sash was of slight build both in stature and musculature.  His brown hair was plastered to his face by sweat.  His clothes too - like hers - were in tatters and spoke to the length of their captivity.  A figure stood over the man and adjusted a four-armed instrument attached to the ceiling of the room.  “Four-centimeter long incision, one centimeter wide, two centimeters deep on the left forearm duration of cut thirty seconds.”  The alien changed positions.  Sash could only guess it was so it could observe more closely.  “Initiate.” 

Upon the command, a mechanical arm, that was suspended overhead, extended an appendage with a laser scalpel and began to cut a swath across the man's upper arm. 

Not long after the laser sprang to life, the red beam cutting its way through the flesh as easily as a knife slices through warm butter, the growled scream started again.  Sasch waited for it to stop, but it didn't.  It just kept going.  Each second it was prolonged, the more it upset her, the more her spirit empathized with his agony, the more she needed their torture of the man to stop.  Sash turned her head and pressed her eyes tightly shut.  But what her physical eyes couldn't see, her mind's eye graciously filled in for her.
 
A whimper and a shudder wracked her petite frame.  "No, no," she whispered almost inaudibly. 

The Russian tried to shield one of her ears against her arm fastened above her head, but no matter what she did, the human couldn’t shut out the noise.  "No.  Please don't."  Her own ears could only begin to make out her words above the other noises that emanated from the room's occupants or instruments.  But the seconds ticked on as slowly as a glacier inching its way down a terminal moraine, etching its effects into the rock for all to see. 

With her blue eyes still averted from the hideous scene, she managed the words, "Don't hurt him." This time her ears could discern her own words, but the current instrument of torture didn't stop.

Finally, she opened her eyes, snapped her head toward the light, and screamed at the aliens.  “Stop it!” But the scalpel continued its trek across the man's forearm.  By this time her voice raised to a harrowing level - nearly drowning out the lupine creature’s wail. “Don’t hurt him.” 

Once the thirty seconds was over, the alien waited for the humanoid wolf to stop its noise.   Then it turned toward the girl shackled against one of the walls in the room.  The alien's salacious voice seemed to drip with honey and anticipation. “Oh, little one."  It walked over to the young woman and crouched down in front of her.  The wanton smile on the creature's face turned Sash's stomach.  But when it reached out and set a digit under the Russian's chin, raising her face to be eye to eye with the woman, Sasch could see the alien's eyes sparkle with malevolent glee.   "Do not worry.  You’ll have your own turn soon enough.”
7
Parallel Universes - "What if?" / Re: Theurgy: What If...? Below Decks Lounge
Last post by Dree -
Lt Reika Sh’laan | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | Vector 3 | USS Theurgy| attn: @RyeTanker @AbsintheDeux  @Dumedion @Juzzie

Reika leaned in as Zark wrapped her blue arms around Reika’s long neck.  Then bringing the two women cheek to cheek.  A little shiver ran down her spine as she felt the other woman’s lips brush across her azure cheek.  Then Zark moved closer to Reika’s ear.  “The night is young, Reika Sh’laan, and I do enjoy what we’re doing here.”  But with that, the second Andorian pulled back and stood almost nose to nose with Sh’laan.  “I know what I want to do to you, but is this what you want so early in the night?  After all, there are many others we can share the enjoyment with.”

Reika’s lips wound into a grin, but as she opened her mouth to speak, the words, “Hey there, sorry to interrupt.”  Then in the small space between the two women a very familiar looking earring was dangled between two milky fingers.  “My friend found this on the floor next to y’all.  Did one of you happen to lose it?”

Reika’s smile went from sultry to intrigued.  Those milky fingers belonged to the Trill who had caught her eye earlier.  She would have enjoyed meeting the Trill, but she wasn’t sure that the Trill was as interested as she was.  Now, she was less sure of that, and her eyes took on a bit of a sparkle.

Without realizing what she did, Reika leaned slightly away and her hands felt for her earlobes.  But, again, before she could answer, she heard, “Oops, looks like you did, Legs.”

Reika’s fingers found which lobe was naked….She wondered if more of her would be naked before the night was over, and she liked that thought.

“Hope ya don’t mind the nickname.” Reika could nearly hear the tinkle of laughter in the Trill’s voice.  “They’re awful hard to miss.”

Reika glanced down at her long blue limbs.  “You mean these?” she said inching her skirt up even more up the side of her thigh as her eyes sparkled with mirth before she dropped her skirt the three inches.  “I have no idea what you mean,” she chuckled.

Turning to the other Andorian, slipping one arm around Zark’s waist and the other around the Trill’s, Reika looked between the two and asked.  “So Zark, are you going to introduce me?”  Thoughts began swirling around her head.  The night had seemed like it could have been incredibly entertaining before.  Now, she wondered what else it might hold…maybe in addition?  Her tongue found a spot to settle as she pressed it against the bottom of her front teeth while she smiled between the two women.
8
Interregnum 01-02 S2 / Re: Day 20 [2122 hrs.] And then the Gods created war, death, and space lasers...
Last post by RyeTanker -
[Horrible French Accent "Some time later..." | Holodeck 3 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy]

@ob2lander961 @Dumedion @rae   @Dree @Ellen Fitz @tongieboi @Juzzie @Pierce

Petty Officer Vinnie Ferris was waiting for the holodeck to open up.  He'd been planning on showing off a program where he would fly ancient air breathing jet aircraft from an ocean going ship.  From there, he'd exercise holographic daring do against a fictional enemy to protect an innocent cargo ship.  He'd sold it pretty well to his date, Crewman Tashanna Ford since she worked on shuttles and had an interest in small craft as well. "Hey Vinnie, am I late?" she asked rounding the corner, and the Rio smiled as he shook his head. "Naw, you're pretty much on time. I'm just waiting for the current session to end."  He jerked a thumb at the double door. "If it isn't over soon, I'll just signal their time is up, and we can go in."  The crewman nodded and fidgeted for a moment. "So, what are....."

The doors to the holodeck opened and the two were treated to a most unusual procession.  First out was a well known short and loud pilot who was practically skipping backwards in outrage. It seemed every other word that she yelled was either a bitch or ass as she  ignored the bruise that covered half her face, and the blood dripping from her nose and lips.  It also didn't help that she had a outfit on that was silk black with white frills and seemed to have a feather duster hooked to a belt around her waist.

An Andorian, and a human brunette followed supporting a red headed Trill who was skipping along while being supported by the two. It was definitely unusual as the human and Andorian were dressed in tan tunics with matching kilts and swords while the Trill was in a lab coat with a shattered set of goggles. The three were ignoring the angry and boisterous pilot as the Trill argued over the need to go to sickbay with the Andorian. "Azrin!  You don't set off a jury rigged 1960s plasma charge right next to a fusion core without consequences!  Even with the safety protocols in place!  If we're lucky, Chief Arnold is only going to yell at us for breaking the holodeck again!  So I will tie you into a pretzel and carry you off to sickbay since there is something clearly wrong with your leg!"  Any attempts to argue were cut off with a yelp as the deft blue hand applied a pressure point squeeze of the pale wrist she had wrapped in grip followed with "You fell over twice just trying to get away from me, so shut it!" the medic finished as the trio plus one rounded a corner and disappeared into a turbolift.

A steady stream of other worn bodies followed out the door, many looking less bedraggled but still worse for wear.  Some wore looks of utter exhaustion, though one very well built Romulan seemed quite smug and satisfied with everything.  He was feeling so jovial about the entire adventure that he was trying to proposition a red haired woman for a drink with something that was probably flammably hazardous and illegal on ship.  It didn't seem like he was having any luck.

The two stared at the holodeck suspiciously, especially after the Andorian's outburst and invoking the name of the Chief Engineer and some possible associated items.  Pilot crews were not known for being indecisive or slow on their feet. "I uhhhh, yeah, Holodeck 1 seems to be open, let's go there instead."  Crewman Ford just nodded as she stared wide eyed at the procession that had disappeared out of sight. "Uhmmm.  Sounds good, and let's just mark this holodeck out of service for now.  That sounds safe."  There was a pause as she punched in a maintenance shut down code on the command panel. "Yep, safety first."  She said to no one in particular as if offering a prayer to no one in particular. "Yep, safety first." she repeated quietly.

~FIN~
9
Parallel Universes - "What if?" / Re: Theurgy: What If...? Below Decks Lounge
Last post by Dumedion -
[PO2 Kino Jeen | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | Vector 3 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @RyeTanker @Dree @Juzzie @AbsintheDeux
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With her back to the bar and a perma-smirk on her face, Kino felt loose and comfortable enough to sway unconsciously to the music between throws; four rounds in now, still sipping only ice-water, with the tequila flowing in her veins. Said alcohol did nothing to improve her aim, but being a cyborg had its perks, even if it came at a cost no one in their right mind should have to pay. Her nose wrinkled in a dismissive scowl at herself before she threw another dart. Thump. The bright, multi-colored neon board lit up in another bullseye.

“You’re cheating,” a familiar voice spoke up behind her.

“Like always,” another chimed in.

Ah, boys. Such sore losers. Kino snorted through a grin, turning as her squad-mates sat themselves at a small table next to where she stood. Falvar – youthful, clean shaven with bright playful eyes and a crown of copper stubble, held two pints of frosty amber colored liquid in his fists; he was the shortest of the three of them, but by far the stockiest. A veritable tank in a fight. Headstrong, impulsive, bullet-proof as only the young and foolish always were. At his side, Agans was tall, dark, and handsome; a steadfast wing-man with kind brown eyes and a cooler head that usually kept his younger charge out of trouble – at least he always tried to, anyway.

Kino lifted her chin at them in greeting. “Thought y’all weren’t comin’,” a dark brow arched at them as she accepted one of the pints from Falvar. “Get tired of paintin’ your little toy soldiers?”

“They’re not toys,” Agans rolled his eyes at her. “They’re armies, for an extremely complex table-top strategic simulation. The nuance is beyond you, I know, so I forgive your ignorance.”

“Whatever,” Kino smirked. “They’re a bunch of half-naked monster girls and golden fuck-boys.”

“Hey, don’t shit on our hobby just because you ain’t got none,” Falvar quipped, hand open for the darts. “Gimme.” Kino fixed him with an ask nicely look, which he dutifully ignored. “Fine, play with yourself, you’re good at that.”

“Fuck you,” the Trill laughed and handed over the darts, ignoring his muttered, smart-assed reply while she seated herself across from Agans. “So, whats up,” Kino asked over the lip of her beer. “Sick of babysitting by yourself, or what,” her lips curled.

“Hilarious,” Falvar grunted at the implied insult.

“You looked lonely,” Agans smirked.

“Did not,” Kino laughed. “Was actually enjoying myself for a change.”

“Looked like you needed company to me,” Falvar shrugged, then tossed a dart that barely hit the board.

“Nice, off to a good start,” Kino chuckled at him, then turned her attention back to Agans. “You guys got bored and came looking for trouble – I know it – but I’m behaving, see? So chill.”

“Yeah, about that.” Agans tilted his head to the bar, then leaned in close to lower his voice at the Trill. “Seems like games are afoot. You had a window too, but didn’t take it. Don’t seem like you,” he shrugged, “so we came over to see what’s up.”

Kino frowned at him, eyes narrowed in sudden annoyance. “Really? Again, with this? How many times do I gotta tell you? I’m fine.”

Agans ignored her, turning his eyes and teasing features to Falvar instead. “Knew you’d say that. Two strips it is, young buck,” he grinned as the younger man swore under his breath. “Don’t worry, one day you’ll actually learn to stop betting against me.”

“Whatever,” Falvar grunted under his breath.

“Look,” Agans continued, hands raised in pacification as his attention returned to Kino, “we know you’ve been through a lot. More than most, for sure – but the Kino we knew,” he gestured to her, “is still in there somewhere. We’re just here to encourage her to live a little.” His dark, mischievous eyes glanced to the two Andorians quickly. “Can’t tell me you aren’t interested.”

Now it was Kino’s turn to roll her eyes. Of course she was interested, but that was beside the point. Knowing both of them, and all the times she'd laughed at their expense, it was pretty obvious they were just looking for some entertainment. “You two really come over here just to bust my balls? Ain’t y’all got anything better to do?”

“Nope,” Falvar snorted and threw another dart. Kino heard him grunt another curse.

“Look, here’s what you do,” Agans paused, and held up a sparkly loop of an erring. “Just like Guam; you take this over there – pretty sure it fell off the tall one. Found it on the deck next to her when we passed, anyway. Give it back and get in the game, have some fun, too, for fuck’s sakes. Do it,” he grinned, “or no balls.”

Guam. She’d been with him and Bremmer then, before Agans had gotten hitched. They’d spent a drunken weekend leave together and the girls had managed all kinds of shenanigans at his expense. Good times. Kino almost choked on the mouthful of beer she just swallowed. “Y’know I remember having those now, right,” she laughed, then took the erring and looked it over. “And I know you’re just settin’ me up to watch the shitshow that’ll follow.”

“Wait, you were a dude,” Falvar grunted in surprise.

“Yeah, twice,” Kino smirked over her shoulder. “Dick, balls, receding hairline, the works.”

“Man, that’s wild. So...you remember everything? You know, even the,” Falvar continued, casually humping the air.

“Really?” Kino sighed at him with a roll of her eyes.

“Please stop doing that,” Agans deadpanned, but Falvar ignored them both with a chuckle – still humping as he downed his beer.

“Y’know what, fine,” Kino laughed as she stood, erring held in one fist, mug in the other. “Y’all enjoy the show.”

“Happy hunting,” Agans nodded with a grin and saluted her with his glass. “We’ll be here.”

Kino snorted with a shake of her head. It was all in good fun, either way. She’d put poor Agans through worse, too, so she’d play along, regardless what happened. Her eyes drifted over Zark who was, of course, more than alluring, but Kino’s lips pulled to the side in her trademark smirk as they lingered on the taller beauty that leaned in close next to the medico. Her ears caught Zark’s flirtatious invitation as the Trill approached the pair, prompting a subdued chuckle. Yeah, this’ll be fun.

“Hey there, sorry to interrupt,” the Trill leaned her elbows on the bar next to Zark, then dangled the erring between her fingers at the pair with a tilt of her head. “My friend found this on the floor next to y’all. Did one of you happen to lose it,” she asked casually, mismatched eyes locked onto the earring's twin – still attached to a deliciously blue lobe. “Oops, looks like you did, Legs,” Kino added with a smile while she held it out, and introduced herself. “Hope ya don’t mind the nickname, they’re awful hard to miss,” she winked.
10
Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: Ch 3 : The Meeting of Heroes (or Villains) [ Day 1 | 1500+]
Last post by JacenSoloDjo -
[ Bridge Crew Mess Hall | D. 1 | V. 1 | 2000 hrs ] Attn:‍ ‍ @Eirual‍ @Nesota Kynnovan‍ @AbsintheDeux‍ @Brutus‍ @Stegro88@Ellen Fitz‍  @GroundPetrel‍ @P.C. Haring‍ @Nolan‍ @Juzzie‍ ‍

Nothing to worry about. Not at all. Just Romulans and Klingons in the same relatively small space on a ship relatively delicate on the inside, Kath thought to herself as she brushed her scarred hands down the front of her red and black dress uniform. Perfectly pressed, perfectly clean, perfectly... stifling. Give her the tactical vest any day.

There was a big difference between diplomacy and just having tact and acumen. Katherine had grown up being dragged to important Starfleet HQ related dinner parties and then the annual cadet ball. That did not mean she felt comfortable in a suit or, in this case, her dress uniform. But she had the tact and acumen to know when to complain and when not to, so no complaints left her. It could have been worse, she supposed, she could be working security. (She allowed herself a small, private smile at her thought process because if this had been five or even two years ago she probably would be.)

She didn't find herself all that hungry, but her father had often quipped 'never turn down a hot meal, good or not'. And she supposed in this case it was just as important to make a point that all the food was perfectly fine and untampered with because 'see Starfleet is eating it'. And besides, it would be a great way to mingle even if she didn't eat, just kept food on her plate.

She arrived at the doors, gave a polite nod to the (un)lucky guards and listened to the tail end of Commander Stark's speech. Does bloodwine count? she thought to herself, her attention drawn to the carpet even though she had seen it plenty of times. She rubbed the back of her neck as she then stepped through the doors into the mess hall, decked out for the occasion. A familiar look, remembering when on the Hamburg it had been set up similarly when they got the news the Dominion War was over. Kath hadn't been all that hungry then, either, despite the clear cause for celebration (a part of her had hated herself for getting wounded in action and felt the celebration wasn't quite for her).

Brown eyes swept the room. She felt her back stiffen slightly at the sight of the Romulan delegation, more for the fact generally Romulans weren't known for their diplomacy (or their possession at least of tact and acumen) than any in born dislike of Romulans as a people. Her parents had done well to impress upon the younger MacFarlane to judge an individual, not their heritage. And Kath had more than once had dealings with Romulans (at least one she was actually sworn to secrecy about) that had not ended badly at all, including some in Starfleet colors.

Her attention was grabbed when, over the scent of gagh and blood pie, she noticed--

"Please tell me the krada is baked not broiled," she muttered, almost to herself, a hopeful expression flickering onto her face. She made a beeline for the food table set out in the middle like an island, if only because no one but the Klingons seemed interested in the Klingonese fair, and the Lieutenant hardly wanted to stand out during such a delicate time. The last time she had had krada legs was back on Starbase 36. The IKS Vask'at just had pipius claw and gagh. Even if she wasn't all that hungry, it didn't hurt to at least make a cursory inspection.

The disappointment she felt at the sight of the broiled not baked legs was palpable on her face for only a second or two, then she schooled it back into neutral. Well, fine, she would just have to replicate some later even if replicated never quite tasted the same as fresh. She had her friend from the Hamburg to thank for her appetite for Klingon fair. Nothing quite like finishing a training session of Mok'bara with bloodwine and krada legs.

Grumbling, her gaze went sweeping over the gagh (still alive and wriggling) and rokeg blood pie before finally finding the bloodwine. Boots didn't even whisper on the carpet as she made her way over to the bottles. Using a single finger, she nudged one of the bottles until the label was facing out. Well, at least something was good and to her taste. A 2320 vintage and next door was Martok's more favored vintage of 2309. Pouring a glass of the vintage almost twice her age, she bypassed the remaining food choices (though she did eye the criniti for a moment before deciding she wasn't exactly going to go for cookies just yet). If anyone asked she would just point out she couldn't carry a plate and a glass of bloodwine at the same time and enjoy both. Maybe the bloodwine would wake her appetite.

Kath rarely stayed stationary. Even at the Academy she had been moving in place without being too much of a distraction. She would make a terrible sniper, but was wonderful at giving the intel to the sniper. She noticed Chancellor Martok (of course) and was glad he seemed to be in relatively good spirits (with his spirits). And numerous other Klingons she recognized by sight and reputation but none she felt a Lieutenant could be chatting up.

She found herself almost halfway through her glass of bloodwine as she made a few more visual sweeps-- just to be on the safe side. Exits-- clear routes. Romulans-- in their metaphorical corner mostly. Klingons-- also in their metaphorical corners mostly. Once she felt she had a good idea of the layout, she went to refill her glass (draining the rest of it as she walked). And nearly slammed into a solid wall of Klingon thanks to both reaching for the same bottle at the same time. She had to be almost half a foot taller than Kath, the Tactical Officer hitting only 5'8" in regulation boots (thank you almost one inch sole).

<Walk much, Human?> the Klingon asked in a dialect Kath was luckily the most familiar with, narrowing her eyes down at the Lieutenant.

<I do a lot better when there isn't a targ shit load of Klingon in front of me,> Kath replied. <Looks like Chancellor Martok needs to be more careful about who he brings around with him.>

There was a pause. Kath could tell some people were actually looking over at the sudden burst of angry Klingonese. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, hoping her time with her Klingon hybrid friend, NuQach, and her short time on the IKS Vask'at had not steered her wrong.

But then suddenly the Klingon in front of her was laughing. A large hand slammed on her (sadly unarmored) shoulder, making her knees buckle.

"Ghuy'cha," Kath muttered in surprise by the force behind the blow. It just made the Klingon woman laugh even more boisterously.

<Ahhh. So many of you Federation types try to speak Klingon but you-- you know Klingons!> the Klingon woman said with a chuckle. <My name is Sangtew' daughter of Woluq. Here, let me fill your cup!>

<My name is Lieutenant Katherine MacFarlane daughter of Alec,> Kath replied and watched as Sangtew' poured from the 2320 vintage they had both been reaching for. She found herself slightly amused that her father's name and Sangtew''s sounded a lot alike.

<The Chancellor prefers the '09 but it's too old for me. And tart,> Sangtew' imparted before taking a long sip.

<I'd prefer the '12 but apparently I have to choose between the '09 and the '20. I like them a bit younger but not that much. Just the right amount of sweetness I don't feel like needing a bowl of gagh to get the taste out of my mouth,> Kath admitted then took a sip of her own.

Sangtew' laughed again. <If I am being honest I expected your lot to have more chech'tluth; I'm told it's more palatable and only a bit stronger than Earth whisky.>

Kath shrugged her shoulders. <I guess bloodwine seemed fancier. How long have you been with Martok's group?>

<About a year. I'm just an adjutant. Hopefully there will be some action soon. Only so many times you can polish bat'leths,> Sangtew' replied.

The double war veteran barely frowned. In her line of work, it was the far better thing to stop a war before it got to the hot trading phaser fire phase (too late now, but still). But she knew Klingons weren't happy unless they were swinging a bat'leth or stabbing with a d'k tagh.

<Being an adjutant isn't too bad. My dad is one.> A pause as she processed Sangtew''s words. <One of these days I ought to get one of my own. Using replicated ones isn't as fun,> Kath mused aloud.

<Not only a bloodwine connoisseur but a wielder of bat'leths?>

<Actually I prefer Mok'bara, but I can swing a bat'leth. Just not all that elegantly.>

<Too bad about this... what do you call it in Federation Standard?> Kath watched her new Klingon friend frown (as much as a Klingon could frown) with concentration. "Shin... dig?"

"Shindig. HIja'."

<If it weren't for that, perhaps we could have a duel. Friendly-like.>

Kath laughed. As they walked and talked, she was always keeping her eye on everything around her. Looking for any subtle signs of problems. Not her job, but also no reason to be complacent just because you were enjoying some bloodwine with a new friend.



OOC:
Oh, look, Kath made a Klingon friend.
Ghuy'Cha= Damn/Shit/your favorite non-Fuck expletive
chech'tluth= Another Klingon drink, about 2x as potent as whisky.
HIja= Yes.
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