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Parallel Universes - "What if?" / Re: [2376] Entanglement of Chaos
Last post by RyeTanker -
[Ensign XamotZark zh’Ptrell (Ens. Zark) | Federation Embassy Compound | Cardassia Prime] Attn: @Ellen Fitz

It was everything Zark despised to the point she could smell the corruption that was coming off the place as they stepped out of the vehicle.  She knew the Cardassians were desperate and they were taking anything they could as investment to help boost their efforts to rebuild the economy.  But there had to be limits, and the gaudy den of greed, hedonism, and lies couldn't have been a good choice.  Surely the resources that were used to build this monstrosity could have gone to better use.  Her wife could tell she wasn't a happy participant and Zark's expression softened into something softer as she felt a light squeeze on her arm.  She flashed a small smile to Ryzit's neutral expression.  Her mental ranting had been answered earlier when she'd less than tactfully asked why was there even a casino on Cardassia.  Like any good cop dealing with the most business opportunistic species in the galaxy, she'd pointed out this was a combinations of rule 9 that resulted from rule 34 leading to rule 35.  Basically, it was too good an opportunity to pass up.  Zark had been partially mollified when Enyd had pointed out that part of the revenues from the casino were required to go to the rebuilding efforts.  It was rumored that the original investors hadn't really wanted to do that, but Grand Nagus Rom had stepped in to secure those clauses for the Cardassians.

The sight lines alone in the current situation were terrible.  It was a wide open terraced space with flashing lights and holograms that served to distract and obscure.  Zark took another breath.  This was supposed to be a neutral safe space for all the participants, nobody was supposed to be trying to kill each other here.  At least not overtly anyway.  Still, there was quite the preponderance of firepower and possibly sharp implements in the area.  The Zhen felt like she was one of the more overtly armed people with a belt and a holster.  Some others had oversized and sharp bulges under their jackets that poorly concealed weapons of some sort.  Many other had various scabbards arranged across their chest like holo novel tough guys.  There was definitely a lot to take in and watch as the trio ascended the purple and brown marble steps.  Zark took the time to briefly lock eyes with several of the more blatant guard dog types.  Her glare elicited a few nods of respect  and she nodded back.   In several other cases, she had keep her eyes locked with several that decided it was necessary to test her resolve with a non verbal challenge that would have terrified a Betazoid if they'd been nearby.  These didn't last long and each time

"Stop trying to kill people with your eyes babe."  Zark heard her wife say as they got closer to the doors and she turned a fulminating glance on her wife as the subtle cacophony assaulted her tuned situational senses.  This manifested itself as her face pinched hard and she glared into the lights, holograms, and tables, and the wide variety of scantily clad women and men on the floor.  Zark got a feeling and looked at Ryzit, then smirked as she saw her wife scoping out the floor. "Hun, work now, play later."  The Shen didn't even bat an long white eyelash as she turned to smile at the Zhen, bobbed her eyebrows a couple of times and bit her lower lip.  The implication was clear, there was going to be fun. Whether it was now or later didn't matter, it was going to happen. 

The trio didn't even take two steps before another Cardassian woman with came with a tray offering several gaily coloured drinks and a few items that possibly contained questionable substances.  Ryzit waved a negative at the woman but took the time to inquire where the cage was located.  The woman didn't miss a beat as she pointed towards several dabo tables then the closed counters behind them.  Ryzit flashed a bright smile as she gestured towards the casino cages.  "Enyd, don't forget to gawk as we get there and I'll get your money to gamble. All the chips are holographic, so make sure you don't lose the cash card."  Ryzit had already told her this, but wasn't above reminding everyone how the whole charade was supposed to play out.  THe walk wasn't far, the clinking of gold pressed latinum and alloy chips was obvious in the din, even as whoops of success, and cries of despair mixed with flashing lights, electronic music.  Zark was puzzled by the tinging of the latinum she saw and took a moment to lean over to Ryzit.  "Is the latinum real or holographic?" Ryzit didn't even look.  "It's real babe.  If it's cold hard latinum, the ferengi will always take it."

Zark nodded as she pulled back to her usual position and her head continued to swivel.  She could feel the eyes on them, maybe more accurately her as they made their way to the cage.  She was definitely garnering the majority of the attention.  There were even a some cat calls and whistles, along with a few more inebriated guests yelling that she needed to change into the right attire; mainly whatever the casino women were wearing. Zark kept her focus outward as Ryzit arranged the transfer from the Union bank to the casino.  The staff was thoroughly professional as they processed the amount and it wasn't enough to elicit comment or reaction.  They simply thanked her as they handed over a replica of a gold pressed latinum bar with a chip on it and a shimmering copper logo of the casino. 

At this point, Ryzit didn't which way to turn to get to the next stage.  They needed a reason to stop get Enyd to starting wasting money.  There were times though that providence provided the answer as a flowing cocktail dress walked by with purpose.  Ryzit moved on instinct as she grabbed hold of Enyd's elbow and moved her towards the bar.  She ignored protests as she moved parallel to the striding woman and kept an eye on where she was going.

Zark knew something was up as she subvocalized to her compatriots. "Ryzit, what is going on?  Slow down and let go of her!  You're going to blow our cover."  This got the Shen to adopt a more reasonable pace as she let go of the human's arm.  The bar came too quick, but it was much needed as she signalled a bartender.  "A stardrifter and a bourbon."  The bartender nodded and hurried off to get the drinks, then Ryzit leaned in closer.  "I only know about this peripherally but I think that woman is with the Orion Syndicate, and now because she's green.  There was a quadruple homocide on a colony near Trill.  It was beyond the resources of local law enforcement, so as the Feds, we got called in.  The cops didn't find much aside from a pretty bad security camera recording about 10 minutes away from the murder scene.  The suspect looks like her."  Ryzit paused her story telling as the drink arrive and she took a healthy drink from hers. 

Ryzit took more time to elaborate, but something caught Zark's attention. It shouldn't have really been anything, but as security, she had a habit of connecting dots and remembering things.  She wasn't as good as others, but she was still capable of it.  This resulted in her eyebrows narrowing in concentration as something tugged at her mind.  Her hand gently touched her wife to get her to stop.  Zark nodded at a fairly non descript looking Cardassian. "Hey Enyd, remember that meeting we had with Marratt shipping and there was that meeting at the Ministry of Agriculture.  He looks like one of the flunkies from the department that organizes procurement?"  Zark looked at Ryzit and Enyd as he headed in the same direction as the supposed Orion Syndicate operative.  Was this a coincidence?


Rule 9: Opportunity plus instinct equals profit.
Rule 34: War is good for business.
Rule 35: Peace is good for business.
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Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: CH2: S [Day 2 | 2315 hrs] For all the blood-tainted stars...
Last post by Krajin -
[ Dominic Winters | Wolf 10 | Local Space | U.S.S Theurgy ATTN: @Dumedion @rae @Pierce @Stegro88 @P.C. Haring - All Wolves.

Atlas was glad that Shadow had come to his wing. Sure, she was a little nuts, but in that moment, nuts was what you needed. Archon formed on his opposite and the diamond hurtled towards the massive warship. That was until the trio got ambushed in a pincer. Two from one side, one from another. Atlas' shields lit up as his ship registered multiple impacts, which forced Atlas off his attack run along with the others.

Atlas had a bogey on his six who was relentless in her pursuit. Disruptor cannons landing hits on the rear shields, and Atlas, despite his best efforts, had trouble shaking the fighter through maneuverability alone. It simply outclassed his valkyrie. Rear shields began to fail and a target lock was registered. The Stalker launched several of its limited micro torpedoes and Atlas in return, deployed his ECM and pulled some hard turns through a debris field. "Fuck fuck fuck.. get off my ass..." The stalker had to peel off enough as its torpedoes struck the countermeasures and detonated, giving him enough of a chance to start firing his wing-mounted phaser arrays.

One blast, two blasts, and the Stalker had to peel off. Atlas whirled his fighter around and pushed into his own pursuit. The arrays firing in response, followed by a quad launch of Atlas' stingily preserved micro torpedoes to finish off the Stalker. Two made impact and crippled the craft while the others missed.

Forming up with Shadow and Archon again Atlas commed in. "That was hair raising. I hate stalkers." He commed to the other two. Now came the fun, going for gold. "Rerouting power from Aux systems to Shields.. rebalance.." Down to thirty percent across the board. Atlas pushed the craft to full impulse towards their target. His vision focused sharply on the target ahead of them, the sinister, green-glowing Thalaron emitter.

This surfaced memories of a similar attack run on a Dominion power core that provided energy for a defense grid. Atlas' teeth grit together as his heart rate began to spike. "Wolf-04. Fire." As soon as she lit it up with the cannon and the target was locked on. "Weapons live and gone!" He called out as the double impact was launched. The hellbore punched through the hull and detonated, while the Hellhound deployed it's nightmare payload across the surface. Atlas pulled up hard as the fireball chased his wake. Interial dampeners were damaged and he could feel the G forces at work on his body.

It was that funny feeling of an approaching blackout that forced his hands to release the near-death grip on the stick and level the fighter out. His attention was rapidly brought back into the world when Archon's gurgling erupted into his helmet. His sensors registered the ETS from Wolf-09 engage, sending Archon back to Theurgy for desperate medical treatment. He pulled away from the Doom-Plume as Atlas did not want to be caught in that and suffer a similar fate.

"Ten to Four, Bandit on your Eight. Coming in to assist. Archon's ETS engaged. Clear." He banked to assist Shadow with her new 'friends'.
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Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: Epi 2 [ D02 | 2300 hrs.] All Squared up at the Triangle
Last post by RyeTanker -
[Lieutenant Ida zh'Wann | Lower Shuttle Bay | Deck 21 | Vector 3 | USS Theurgy] @Ellen Fitz @Dumedion @joshs1000 @P.C. Haring @rae @Brutus 

Hours Later

The security Deputy's eyes were exhausted as she hobbled along.  A small part of her revelled in the fact that she could take her helmet off.  She was distantly aware of the feeling of cool air against her skin.  It was great to be alive.  At least she was.  Her cold blue eyes swept the shuttle bay where rows of bodies were being laid out on the deck.  The morgue was understaffed as medical teams dealt with keeping alive those they would try to save.  The rest of the crew that wasn't involved in repairing the ship or finding other casualties were stoically helping to collect the dead.  They all wore masks and gloves.  Energy weapons tended to cauterize everything, but not all the fighting had been that clean, especially when Klingons got involved.  She sighed again as she saw the cost of the fighting in the ship, in the rows of bodies.  The only place relatively open and clear enough for morgue registration to be able to do their job with any sort of efficiency.

The results were telling as she walked by the rows of green body bags.  Many were slick from the blood that couldn't be contained in the deceased corporeal forms.  You fought well, may your spirits find peace. Ida thought as she walked past the dead.  The majority of them had come from their last stand around the boarding shuttle attached to Vector 3.  As soon as the Klingons had come aboard the rest of the Romulan fleet turned away, they should have given up.  If there was a choice, Starfleet would always take prisoners, but the marines had fought with suicidal determination in trying to hold their ground.  A last minute manoeuvre had brought Vectors 1 and 3 close enough for Ida to transfer back over and she'd gone for the jugular.  As the Klingons had compressed the invasion in room to room fighting, she'd beamed to the boarding ship and tried to seize it in a coup de main.  Instead, she'd had to hold on for dear life after managing to eject the parasitic attachment and hear about it explode just far enough to not cause Chief Arnold any more grief.  Then she'd joined the final fighting. She was hobbling because one of the last Romulans had decided it was better to blow himself up than be taken prisoner.  She'd managed to solve the potential damage by blowing out a window with her phaser rifle and ejecting him into space.  He'd gone off just beside the hull with just enough force to knock her back into the corridor.  The Klingons had thought her performance to be marvellous and the height of hilarity.  She just hurt.

She made her way past the green body bags to the white ones.  A brief flicker of grief flashed across her eyes.  So many had come so far, only for them to end so ignominiously.  She supposed she ought to be grateful that not everyone was here.  But it was hard; oh so hard now.  Reports were still coming in, but it wasn't good.  Commander Stark was in charge now that Captain Ives had been badly injured.  Lieutenant Zark was also in sickbay, medically sedated from her own misadventure on the same mission.  She wasn't sure she'd made the right choice this time in staying with the ship.  A frown formed and quickly deepened as she looked over the bodies and felt the magnitude of their loss on her.

Her mind must of have needed something to stop her from sinking into depression as she notice a couple of blue shirts working hurriedly, but confused over one open body bag.  One of the medical staff looked up at the other and shook his head, then the two looked around for help.  Ida was already walking in their direction, curious as to why someone would be trying so hard to work on the lost.  One of them saw her coming and quickly waved her over as they called for her aid.  "Lieutenant, we really need you help..."  Ida saw why, the name plate read Jeen.  Lieutenant zh'Wann shoved away the outrage and loss over what the Chief had represented as a person and in her potential, especially as a joined Trill. "What's the issue?" she asked coolly.

The medical person didn't skip a beat.  "We were thinking out systems were glitching since it said there was still an active life form inside the suit, but Chief Jeen is confirmed dead, so it was really confusing..."

Ida filled in the rest and came to a conclusion quickly as she pushed the medical tech aside and grabbed the dead woman's arm. The LCARS panel was still active and she punched a sequence into her own arm computer to interface with Jeen's armour.  The tech was still babbling, but she tuned him out as she read the results.  The symbiote was alive.  It was in really bad shape and the suit was doing what it could to sustain the body that the symbiote was consuming to keep itself going, but the slug was alive.  She reacted without thinking as she hit the comm system on her own suit. "zh'Wann to sickbay, medical priority transport.  The Jeen symbiote is still alive."  There was a startled pause before a feminine voice hurriedly replied.  "Acknowledged, stand by for transport."

Many many hours later....

Ida sat in the CMOs office and her head was in her hands.  She wanted to cry, but she didn't really know how any more.  Doctor Leux had tried.  There was an old human term for what he'd tried.  The effort had been Herculean, but the symbiote had been too badly damaged by the neurotoxin blade that had killed Jeen first.  After what felt like an eternity, her hands came down from her face and she leaned against the chair, uncharacteristically slouching.  The doctor had left long ago to tend to other shattered bodies and she stared through the bulk head in the direction of the morgue where it held the remains of one life, and lost collection of another.  She sighed as she felt there was only one thing left to do.  They couldn't keep piling up bodies like this for much longer, and getting them all back home was another question that had to be tackled soon.

Somewhere in those hours.....

[Lieutenant Commander Frank Arnold | Chief Engineer's Office | Main Engineering | Deck 25 | Vector 3 | USS Theurgy]

The burly engineer was exhausted as he continued to look over the litany of damages the ship had taken.  The worst of the damages had people assigned to them, but he felt the call to get out there and put his hands on some of the problems.  He took a sip of coffee, but it tasted of ash and the caffeine was starting to fail to wash away the whispers of sleep that called for him.  It was a tantalizing call and he picked up his coffee mug again and stared at it.  He didn't have the mind to glare at an inanimate substance for not helping him.

It wasn't the coffee's fault though.  That wasn't the problem, and it was only distracting him from what he knew was the real issue.  His mind stared in the direction of the warp core.  Not precisely the core, but the slipstream attachment to it.  And who it represented.  He could feel the honest part of his mind telling his ego that he'd let this situation go on long enough.  Possibly too long and they'd been lucky to dodge any unintended consequences.  There was the temptation to deal with this directly and simply by having security haul Azrin away to quarters arrest, but that was ultimately counter productive to the entire department.  He rubbed his exhausted face as he scratched his beard for a moment.  Maybe he'd have to get his head checked at the same time. Make sure it was still screwed on straight.  Resolved to do something, he logged a request to talk to Lieutenant Commander Hathev as soon as he was more coherent.


[Petty Officer 3rd Class Cirus Bodega | Main Bridge | Deck 1 | Vector 1 | USS Theurgy]

The sudden beeping on his screen caught the weary sensor technician's eyes and he forced his hands to move as he ran the analysis package.  His thoughts were slowed since the post adrenaline let down after the battle and he shook his head to try to clear the cob webs in his brain.  The computer spit out the results, and he felt adrenaline begin to surge through his system once more.  The PO3 spun on his chair towards Commander Stark.  "Captain."  He began, and it felt strange, foreign saying it even in the heat of the situation, but he pressed on. "Sensors are detecting an incoming starship.  It's a Sovererign Class, the USS Warspite.  She's putting out full power on her engines.  ETA in system will be about 4 hours.  She'll get a much clearer sensor reading on our location in two."  He had to mentally resolve himself for what the package was giving him next.  "There's a mass of Starfleet subspace signatures about 5 hours behind the Warspite.  Too far away for a good count, but it looks like at least 18 ships, probably more"  There was a pause to let that information sink in.  "Your orders Captain?"
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Main OOC Board / STORY WORKSHOP 2025 | EPISODE 03, SEASON 2
Last post by Ellen Fitz -
Opening Poll for Next Episode Storyboarding – Your Input Needed!

Hello writers!

Following our long-standing tradition for new episodes, we’re officially opening up the poll for storyboarding input. As always, the goal is to gather broad creative desires, potential plot beats, and character-driven moments so we can shape the next episode together.

Before you vote or submit your ideas, here’s a quick reminder of the major story beats already in motion that will influence Episode 03:

  • Federation in Turmoil:
    With Dr. Marlowe’s broadcast and President Bacco’s first-hand encounter with an Infested, the Federation is scrambling. Some believe, some deny, and the Infested are feeding the uncertainty. The President remains in office, but the seat of government is unstable as everyone searches for answers.
  • The Savi Mystery Continues:
    Our Savi allies vanished without a word, and survivors of the Savi Scions were found at Hobus—an unresolved thread we can tug on if we choose.
  • Theurgy’s New Status:
    The Theurgy is no longer considered renegade, but neither is her crew welcomed home yet. The Federation’s political climate is far too fractured. (Reminder: the second-most-voted option in the previous poll was to keep the Infested active, but trending toward a future “mop-up” threat.)
  • Romulan and Klingon Instability:
    Romulus lacks leadership after Tal’Aura and Donatra were neutralized, while the Reman-Romulan faction has yet to gain control. Qo’noS remains in flux as Martok contends with Mo’Kai renegades and growing resentment toward Federation influence.
  • Rising Threats Beyond the Borders:
    Elements of the Breen, Tzenkethi, Kinshaya, Gorn, Tholian, and Orion factions have been quietly gathering—likely encouraged by the Infested—to consider forming a new alliance, potentially a “Typhoon Pact.”
  • A New Captain Incoming:
    A new commanding officer will be brought in by the end of the Epilogue, with their procurement forming a key epilogue objective.


What We Need From You

For this first round, we’re asking for your open-ended “grocery list” of things you’d like to see, encounter, explore, or develop in the upcoming episode.
Big arcs, small moments, unresolved threads, personal character beats—everything is welcome.


Timeline

The poll will remain open for two weeks.
Once the window closes, we’ll gather the results and move forward into the next phase of detailed storyboarding.

Jump in, brainstorm, speculate, and help shape the direction of our next chapter!

---

Season 2 Episode 3 Poll
6
Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: Epi 2 [ D02 | 2300 hrs.] All Squared up at the Triangle
Last post by Dumedion -
[LT Arven Leux | Battle Sickbay | Deck 15 | Vector 3] Attn: @all

He had to see it for himself.

Amidst the wreckage and ruination of what was once a place of healing, Arven walked through a scene of complete carnage. Exhausted violet eyes surveyed the remains – the shattered consoles, the scorched walls, the blood-stained carpet – all while his mind fought the fatigue and the creeping sense of déjà vu.

“Doc,” a voice called, drawing Arven’s attention. He turned his tired gaze to one of the security escorts as the armored man emerged from the flickering darkness of the small ICU ward.

“Any others,” Arven asked with a sigh.

PO Deveraux shook his head. “We’re clear.”

Leux took one last look around, then nodded his head. “I’ll get some people down here to set up another aid station until we can get the equipment repaired.”

The security officer shrugged, the movement mimicked with a whine of artificial muscle fiber and servos as he made his way to the door, which was a half-blasted, jagged sculpture of twisted metal. “If we find more, we’ll send ‘em your way.”

Arven grunted as he half-bent around the jagged ruined entryway, back into the main corridor of the deck. “No – we’re taxed to capacity,” a hand ran through his sweat and grime caked hair, then down his face as they walked. “Stabilize them in place as best you can. Sickbay is in full triage mode.”

“The dead,” Deveraux asked.

Arven grimaced and shook his head. “Ours go to the morgue. Theirs can bloody burn for all I care.”

“Doc?” The security officer asked incredulously, almost with a laugh of disbelief.

Arven spun on him without warning, a dangerous gleam in his eyes. “You heard me,” he snarled at the man, who nearly matched the Trill's height incased in his armor. “In case you haven’t noticed, we just lost over half of our medical personnel – doctors, nurses – people who posed no threat to – “

“Lieutenant,” Deveraux interrupted calmly, a hand on his shoulder. “I know damn well how many we lost today. Better than you,” the man nodded, and Arven noticed the pain in his dark eyes, the gashes on his brow and lips, and the scorch marks adorning his armor. “I’ve lost more than a few friends today, too – but that doesn’t change who we are. It can’t. Otherwise, they win, and all of it doesn’t mean a damn thing.”

For a moment, Arven couldn’t manage a response. In the end, he was simply too tired to argue, as the anger faded and took the fight with it. He shrugged Deveraux’ hand off as he turned and walked away towards the lift. “Bag and tag them then,” the Doctor grumbled, “storage will have to do until we figure out how to return them to their own.”

Deveraux sighed where Arven left him, then nodded and followed.

Arven’s badge chirped as the doors to the lift closed; he tapped it, resting his head back on the wall. “Leux, go ahead.”

[“Doctor, your presence and assistance are urgently needed in cryo-stasis.”] Vi-Nine stated in a hurried blurt of semi-emotive panic. [“Please proceed with haste.”]

The Trill’s face scrunched up in a grimace of fatigue before he answered. “On my way.”
 
[Moments later…| Main Sickbay | Deck 11 | Vector 2]

Arven caught a surprising nod from Dr. Nicander as he passed, followed by two security escorts. He didn’t have time to stop and ask the obvious questions, but moved past with urgency into the mostly pristine cryo-stasis compartment; where Vi-Nine stood centered around four hovering bio-beds – each with a casualty being prepped for stasis.

“Report,” Luex asked, moving to the closest bed console, where the color-bleached body of LT. V’lana lay unmoving – grievous wounds held in synth-flesh patches across her torso and neck.

Vi-Nine was a blur of motion; the android’s limbs and torso rotated about in a stream of movement as her head and ocular sensor stayed fixated on Arven. At her sides, Leux recognized the bright-red hair of Dr. Pax, and the slab of muscle that was Dr. Kobol – or what remained of them.

“Casualty reports and diagnoses are filed for later review,” the android replied rather curtly, “for now I would appreciate your assistance in preparing cryotubes twelve and thirteen for Doctor’s Pax and Kobol before their vitals crash – again.”

“Alright, alright,” Arven huffed as he moved to comply. “I got here as soon as I could.”

“Irrelevant. LT Kingston, Ensign Murphy, LT Havenborn still await stasis. I cannot perform miracles alone, Doctor.”

Arven powered up the appropriate systems in sync, pairing each tube with the life-sustaining apparatus of the hovering bio-beds without hesitation. The droids words stung, however – more than he’d care to admit. “Alpha-wave stabilizers initiated. Queing vitae transmitters for injection,” he reported, keying in the process codes to Dr. Kobol’s stasis tube before glancing at Vi-Nine. “What was Nicander doing in here,” he asked.

The droid emitted a blurt of noise that sounded incredibly mechanical yet disturbingly emotional. “Saving Captain Ives’ life,” Vi-Nine answered quietly. “Patient ready for interment,” she added the next second, moving away from the bio-wreckage that was once Dr. Kobol.

“Got it,” Arven grunted, lifting the bio-bed to slide into the misty interior of the stasis chamber and sliding it into place. It locked with the internal systems with a series of clicks, then sealed automatically as the systems came online. “Stasis online – systems optimal. Time and vitals logged,” he reported.

The pair worked in silent determined synchronization while they repeated the process with Dr. Pax.

Then the other casualties were brought in.

Charred uniforms were cut from bodies. Wounds were sterilized, sealed. Bones were reset, bonded, re-grafted. Flight suits and armor were removed. Vitals were brought within stasis-tolerance, just on the edge of death. Through it all, Arven ignored the fog of exhaustion that made him feel ten times heavier. He fought through doubt, confusion, the aches of self.
 
Most of all, he refused to dwell on the future; all that mattered was the here and now.

Kingston. Pax. Kobol. V’lana. Murphy. Havenborn, Arven noted, already preparing a mental list of injuries and possible future treatments, if they were afforded some time to research and preparation. He already knew that without Vi-Nine, and a great deal of luck, their odds of returning to duty seemed slim at best – but that was nothing new. He also knew they wouldn’t be the last patients of the day they couldn’t save. In the end, Vi-Nine swiveled her ocular node to him with a nod. Appreciation, perhaps? Or simple acknowledgement of a shared duty successfully done? He couldn’t know for sure.

Arven simply wiped the sweat from his face with the crook of one elbow with a sigh. He was beyond tired, but the job wasn’t finished. Not yet.

“Right,” he sighed, “who’s next then?”

In that moment, a female voice crackled over the coms, and Arven couldn’t help groaning at the prospect of even worse fighting to come. He thought, hoped, that there might have been some relief on the day that Starfleet finally managed to catch up with the Theurgy – that maybe by then the Federation would know about the Infested and sort themselves out – but after everything they’d seen and been through…

It's not over, he knew, somehow, it might never be.

Dr. Leux rubbed his tired eyes with a sigh, picked up a hypo, and pumped himself full of another dose of stims with a frown.

He had work to do.
7
Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: CH2: S [Day 2 | 2315 hrs] For all the blood-tainted stars...
Last post by Stegro88 -
[ Lt. JG Donna ‘Chance’ Petterson | Local Space Near Vector 01]
[Show/Hide]

“Wolf-06 to Theurgy, confirming distraction of the shuttle from bearing 111 mark 14,” Chance reported in as she brought her Valkyrie up and over in a gentle turn back to towards the Helmet. Checking her stores, she was down to about half of her micro torpedo load and only had 4 of the regular torpedoes that she had left the fighter bay with. Checking her sensors, she had a rough location of where the Ranger and her Den was, but she wasn’t confident in leaving the Helmet alone without any support.

“Confirmed Wolf -06,” the voice came across the channel. “Return to holding pattern and await further instructions.”

“Roger,” Chance responded, trying to remain focused on task and not letting her mind wander. She could have injected more sarcasm into her tone, she was already on course back, but that wouldn’t have got her anywhere. Or, she could have asked for a status report on her pack mates. But she didn’t. She had held off in checking the squadron status screen on her console, going so far as to make it display other information. She needed to focus now. There would be time enough later to find out how her pack fared in this shitstorm.

And how many wouldn’t return from it.
8
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 held her silence for an extra moment as she considered Cross’s question. The answer was not simple nor was it easy and, perhaps for the first time, Hathev understood just how complex the emotional experience could truly be and the irony of that self-realization in the wake of being the ship’s counselor was not lost on her. She was not so naïve to believe the answers would come quickly or easily, nor was she of the belief that she would find a single answer that would persist and sustain her for the remainder of her life.

No. This would be the latest step in the ongoing and unending journey that was life. To a certain extent the idea of traveling this road appealed to her, but at the same time she knew she needed clarity and calm, that through a centered mind she would find the way. That implied mediation which brought a sense of comfort.  Yet she did not wish to leave Cross’s side.

There were other forms of meditation and while the various techniques might not be among the approved techniques taught to Vulcans, Hathev decided that an alternative technique was appropriate this time.

Wordlessly, she slid back on the mattress and leaned back into the feeling of his hands on her shoulders.  Gently she lay herself down, her back to Cross but leaving enough room for him to hold her. She made no motion to engage with him sexually.

“Lay down with me and rest,” she finally replied.

She settled in on her side, shifting her position as needed to accommodate Cross as he got himself comfortable and as their ship made their way back, Hathev closed her eyes, and tucked in under his embrace.

-FIN 
9
Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: CH2: S [Day 2 | 2315 hrs] For all the blood-tainted stars...
Last post by ob2lander961 -
[ Ens. Via "DixeBee" Wix | Cockpit | Wolf-16 | Triangle ] Attn: The Birds
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"AHHAHAHA HAHAHA AHHHHHH!!!"

Via let out a blood-curdling battle cry as she let loose the full might of her Valravn's weaponry inside the Fighter Assault Bay. Strafing from one side of the hangar to the other, the young adrenaline-drunk pilot didn't discriminate with her fire. Everything suffered Wolf-16's wrath. Romulan soldiers were vaporized where they stood. Various types of equipment and shuttles were destroyed and or scrapped, leaving only burning debris to remain. By the time her weapons overheated, the hangar bay was decimated, no Romulans in sight.

"Fuck ya'll, eat lazer dumbasses!!" Via said, forcing every word out of her mouth while losing consciousness.

Calls for assistance started to flood her ears again, prompting her to turn her fighter around and head back into the fray.

"Our asses...ain't done yet, beachhead." She spoke weakly and received no response. As she pushed forward on the accelerator, Via's vision started to narrow. Her eyes felt like someone stapled 50 lbs weights to them. In fact, everything seemed harder to do.

"No...not..." Fear invaded her mind. She was going to die. There were so many things to do, and it was all going to be cut short. The young pilot tried to fight the encroaching darkness with all her might. "Not...yet...I'm not...done..."

"Ma'am?! MA'AM!!" Charles yelled in a panic.

It was unwinnable no matter how hard she tried. The blackness flooded her vision, fading the chaos of the battle to a simple, quiet nothing.

"Fuck."

10 minutes later...

[IKS H'apehk | Fighter Assault Bay | Triangle]

From the still blackness, Via began to hear her faint murmurs; they were deep, too low to ascertain what was being discussed, but they were voices; most likely deep in nature. Then, suddenly, quite violently, everything: her senses, her hearing, her sight all came rushing to her.

"Qapla'!!! Your life is saved, human."

A burly Klingon was kneeling by her side, holding a hypospray and looking jubilant as he witnessed life return to Via's eyes. Several others were standing over them, pilots, by the look of it, some curious and some showing slight disdain at the small human lying on their deck.  Alarms blared, sparks flew, and the chaos of an active flight deck in the combat zone consumed Via's senses.

Her heart jolted with anxiety, and in a panic, she kicked straight upward at the burly Klingon, impacting his lower jaw, stunning him. She used the window she made to push herself back away from the group, grabbing a fallen wrench as a quick weapon to swing at whoever was closest. It impacted true.

"Argh!!! Bloody hell, ma'am it's me!!!"

Hearing Charles' voice calmed her down enough, allowing her to take in the situation, but her chest was still pounding. "Beachhead? What in the f-"

"I- sniff* I think you broke my arm".

"And my teeth. You have a fiery spirit, Starfleet." The burly Klingon, whom Via now identified as a medic, chuckled with respect.

The other unamused Klingons behind him moved with purpose to their fighters as another impact rocked the ship, and alarms started to blare. The PA crackled to life.

"Operation is a go! All pilots to their crafts. Die well..."

"How-?"

"They pulled us in with a tractor beam. Saved us". Via got interrupted by a wincing Charles.

"The sickly, frail human is speaking the truth, Starfleet." Another Klingon came up from behind, covered in recent wounds and wearing a similar flight suit as the others. Charles looked offended at the statement. "I am Commander Navach. We observed your exploits as you destroyed the Romulans. It seemed unfair to let you die while there are still more out there."

"I was too late in that regard." The Klingon medic spoke up, referring to the last statement, with an amused look on his face. "Alas, I managed to bring you back from the jaws of death...for a limited time." he gave a morbid chuckle

Via was still confused and just stood there in disbelief. The Klingon commander spoke up once more as the ship rocked again.

"We have no time, Starfleet. I had my engineers fix your fighter as much as they could. Take it and join our squadron in this pincer attack to break through the Romulan lines. Do this, and your debt will be paid." He ran off to his craft in a hurry.

"What?!" Via exclaimed in confusion after him. The Klingon Medic started to gather his medical supplies and looked up at Via's confused face. "We do not have the medical facilities free to fully heal you with your condition." He stared at her implant, which was heavily damaged and glowing red. "You may have hours before you head to Sto-vo-kor. Perhaps if you are lucky, you could make it back to your Theurgy...or be given an honorable death. Run, Starfleet, die well."

Via rolled her eyes, unamused at the Klingon's dramatics, but then another explosion rocked the ship.

"Ma'am! We need to leave NOW!" Charles tugged her with his unbroken arm causing her to drop the wrench she had been holding, and they both boarded Wolf-16. The ship itself was patched up with Klingon parts, giving it a mismatched appearance. As Via booted the fighter up, it wined and sputtered before roaring to life. The HUD had been linked to Klingon IFF, allowing her to see the movements of their fighters."

"Your ass is tellin' me everythin' once we get back." Via said weakly.

"Bloody ok! Just go!!"
[Triangle Battlezone]

Via throttled forward as secondary explosions filled the hangar. The orange glow of fire and sparks rushed past her as Wolf-16 exited the Klingon ship back into the chaos of the space battle. Looking behind her, the IKS H'apehk and other Klingon escorts went up in a brilliant explosion, overwhelmed by Romulan plasma fire.

"Ma'am, we are currently in the middle of an ambush!! We need to find that Klingon fighter squadron before we-" Green plasma fire streaked past the canopy as Via darted towards the survivors of the H'apehk fighter wing. "Their asses are mince meat. Gettin' picked apart." she said as she saw 4 Klingon fighters get vaporized by a heavy plasma blast. Via came down from the Y axis, taking out two Romulan fighters that were pursuing one of the Klingon fighters. Systems and power distribution were an absolute mess, but her fighter did feel much more powerful than before. Whatever the Klingons did, she liked it.

"Incoming transmission, it's the Klingon Fighter Commander."

"You are with us, Starfleet? Good. We will fight out of this Targ trap or die well. Join my wing."

Via coughed up blood as the transmission ended. "God damnit...I am goin' to die like ass..." she weakly said as she got in formation with the surviving Klingon fighters.

"They are firing another volley. Evasive maneuvers!!" Another Klingon shouted on comms as more plasma fire escaped from the D’Deridex cursiers and Romulan flagship. Just before they could meet their target, however, a random ship that Via swore she had seen in a museum at the Academy flew into view and blocked the incoming attack.

"Fredrickstad-class?!" Charles yelled.

"Who in the fuck is Fredrick's dad? Focus on, Beachhead!! What is happening?!" Via said in response, and disbelief.

"It's the- never mind..."

"Starfleet gave us an opening!! Pursue these honorless dogs, destroy them!!" The Klingon commander said with fervor over the comms. All the fighters formed up under the cover of IKS Bortas, its escorts, and the Ranger to commence a final and fatal attack run against the Valdore and the remaining Romulan ships.

The fighters clashed. Exhaustion blanked the combatants as battle damage and fatigue from intense fighting came to a breaking point.  Via herself was on autopilot, taking out Romulans one or two at a time with the help of her new Klingon allies. She nearly missed Charles telling her that her fellow Wolves, including Shadow, began an attack run against the Valdore. Via did her best to keep the Romulan fighters away from them, allowing for a massive volley of weaponry to impact the Romulan flagship. The resulting explosion was large enough to cause Via to immediately dart away using her afterburners. Many of her Klingon brethren she had been fighting with were enveloped in the green fire, but so were the Romulan fighters. The pressure on her body as the initial dampeners struggled to compensate caused Via to shift in and out of consciousness, but she would make it, just clearing the explosion at the seat of her pants.

She coughed up more blood as she held a holding pattern. "Blondie...I ain't feelin' so good." Via said weakly.

"Ma'am- I"

"Ain't there still bad guys out there?"

"Yes but-"

Via went and sent an open comm to her fellow Wolves. The weakness in her voice would be very evident to whoever was listening. "Wolf-16 in the blind...is anyone's asses still out there? On station and ready to clean up these bastards."

"Ma'am, we need to return back to the Theugy. You are-"

"I ain't shit beachhead. Does it look like we are done yet? My ass still got some fight left." Via said with finality, but it was contradicted by a bad coughing fit. "I ain't done yet...not...yet." She accelerated her fighter in pursuit of the fleeing Romulan forces
10
Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: C3: S [Day 2 19:45] Tis Not Goodbye...
Last post by Stegro88 -
[ Lt. T'Less | Corridor | Deck 06 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @P.C. Haring
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"...make sure all the PDPCs are functional and ready for deployment,” T’Less ordered as she walked down the corridor leading a team of engineering and operations crew. They had just finished checking the torpedo launchers and magazines and were making their way to one of the dorsal phaser strips on the Helmet that had shown some irregularities during a system’s check.

“Lieutenant, do you have a moment,” another officer asked respectfully as he walked up.

“I will meet you there,” T’Less said as she stopped, allowing her team to pass her and continue down the passageway. “What is it, Ensign?”

“The results from the latest simulations you asked to be performed,” the man answered, holding out the PADD. “You asked to see them the moment they were completed.”

“I had not intended for someone to chase me across the ship with the results in hand,” T’Less remarked, accepting the PADD. “But as you are already here, let us review them.” She stood there, reading one report after another before handing the PADD back to the man. “There are all within parameters. Thank you.”

“No problem, ma’am,” he said before stepping away. T’Less stood for a moment, thinking over the results again and formulating a plan about what she would do next. Just as she began to walk away, she heard her name being called from behind her.

“T’Less!”

Turning, the Vulcan Tactical Officer was surprised to see Reggie approaching, wearing a compression suit. A dozen thoughts flashed through her mind, but she stamped them down.

“Reggie,” she said to the Betazoid pilot. “What are you doing here? You have orders for redeployment. You should be preparing yourself for that.”

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