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Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: Epi S: [Day 03 | 0900] Changing lanes

Last post by Pierce - Today at 12:14:37 AM

[ Lt. Commander Alana Pierce | Central Intelligence Suite | Deck 5 | Vector 1 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Krajin
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It was quiet post battle albeit with the sound of her own head ringing from the losses, the destruction and the lack of sleep. She rubbed her forehead with a yawn as she'd gotten up early, and the caffeine was failing miserably to hit her subconscious. Alana leaned forward in her chair assessing various crewmembers profiles as she looked to fill some empty seats in her department. The PADDs scattered across her desk as she found one in particular that caught her eye. Almost as if she could see a kindred spirit in the individual. Someone a bit...older.

She leaned in to read when her console chirped in front of her regarding a failsafe she placed on her own file to know when anyone on board might peruse the details. Although much was heavily redacted and covered up regarding her past prior to the events of her arrival to this century, there was enough to cause someone with the right mind to...dig deeper even if they were unlikely to find anything they were digging for.

Low and behold it was the same individual she was looking at the profile of. Lt.Thane Va’rek. Pierce let him scroll through while she did the same observing how he dug through her file. She saw why the person rang a bell, as she found in his profile his affinity for older Federation tech. Something she could likely pull the strings of with her own gear. Decidedly she thought it might be beneficial to have him meet her and inquire to his goals on board since his recent awakening. She toyed around with her original communicator that she had stored on the shelf. Along with her old tricorder and phaser that all came with her to this century. All mounted behind her on shelving. The model of the USS Eagle was in her quarters along with old uniforms and other tech.

Tapping the console, she activated COMMs. "Computer, contact Lt.Thane Va’rek" Accessing now...

"Greetings Lieutenant. I am Commander Pierce. I see you've been doing some light reading." She paused to evaluate the response keeping the tone lighthearted. "Would you care to drop by the Intelligence Suite? I would like to get to know the person better who is taking an interest in my profile." She smiled on her end letting the warmth of her tone take hold. "Seriously though, I think it's time we meet and discuss your career path while you're on board."

Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: EPI S: The curious case of Humpty Dumpty [Day 03 | 2330 hrs]

Last post by Ellen Fitz - May 13, 2026, 08:51:10 PM

[ Ehfva Feynri | Main Sickbay | Biolab 2 | Deck 11 | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ] @Dumedion

She followed what Hirek was saying. The mechandrite array. Receptor sequences. Prosthetic trigger. Her mind was slower than usual — the pain had a way of narrowing things down to immediate sensation and not much else — but she tracked the shape of it well enough. A reprogrammed version of the device that had been used to hurt Hirek, now used to help her. She noted the irony without dwelling on it.

What she dwelt on was the implant itself. For the rest of her existence, her ability to shift would depend on the accuracy of a device. On its programming remaining intact. On no one tampering with it, damaging it, removing it. Every shift, for the rest of her life, mediated by something external, something that could fail. The thought sat in her chest like a stone.

Then her body reminded her, as it had been reminding her for days now, what the alternative felt like. Every muscle group in a constant argument with every other muscle group. Her hands neither paw nor hand but something unworkable in between. The sounds she made when she tried to speak. The supply closet floor.

She would take the implant.

When Arven turned and began talking about neurological mapping, Ehfva straightened as much as she was able and focused. The words were moving fast and precise and she needed to contribute one thing before the moment passed. She pulled air into her lungs, worked her throat, and pushed.

"Cay — " she stopped. Tried again. "Cay-u-ga." The word came out warped at the edges but recognizable. She held up a hand, one finger, asking him to wait, and forced the second word through. "Sscans."

She exhaled and let her hand drop, hoping it was enough. Standard procedure for any Vulpinian serving in the Federation or bonded to a Federation member — all four forms in her case, documented in full, for exactly this kind of situation. The Cayuga would have them on file. All of them.

[ Specialist Hirek tr'Aimne | Main Sickbay | Biolab 2 | Deck 11 | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ]

When Leux agreed, Hirek was already ahead of him.

He had known the doctor would agree before the words were out. The simulations had exhausted every other direction. Ehfva was dying — not quickly, not cleanly, but dying in a way that left no room for continued deliberation. The stimulator was the only remaining variable worth testing, which meant the time being spent discussing it was time better spent retrieving it.

He stood, walked out of the lab, and said nothing to either of them. The nearest nurse looked up when he approached. He described the device — the housing dimensions, the contact configuration, the canister it had been stored in — and watched her face move from confusion to recognition. She led him to a row of secured lockers along the far wall, keyed in a code, and a drawer slid out. The canister was where Leux had left it.

Hirek picked it up. Turned to go. He was three steps away when he remembered what Leux had told him, earlier, about the nurses. He stopped.

"Thank you," he said over his shoulder and kept walking.

He returned to the lab, set the canister on the nearest clear workstation, and looked at Leux.

"I don't have unrestricted access to the ship's systems yet. You'll need to unlock a workstation with your credentials before I can begin the reprogramming." He pulled up the stool and sat. "Also — Federation starships. Do they operate on a shared medical database, or is each vessel's records isolated? I don't know how your network architecture functions at the individual ship level." He looked up at Ehfva, then back at Leux, and shrugged at whatever the doctor's expression was doing. "She mentioned her mate served on the Cayuga. If those records are accessible, they would give us a reliable pre-injury baseline for the neurological mapping." He looked back at the canister. "It seemed worth asking before we proceed without them."

Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: EPI S: Two sides, same coin [Day 03 | 0930]

Last post by Ellen Fitz - May 13, 2026, 08:38:12 PM

[ Lt. Enyd Isolde Madsen | Chief Diplomatic Officer's Office | Deck 08 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] @Dumedion

"That's worth considering, actually." She crouched to sweep a cluster of stones toward her palm, not looking at him while she worked through it. "If some of the crew happened to find themselves at those establishments anyway — for the purposes of acquisition and mayhaps a wee bit of procurement tourism— they could operate as eyes for Martok. Or for your investigations, if there are any running." She stood and deposited the stones into the pouch, noting how many he'd already collected with an inward smile. "Whatever he wants done with what they observe. It's not the cleanest arrangement, but it's functional." She glanced at him sidelong. "I agree with your assessment on creating problems by solving problems." The laugh she gave was short and genuine. "That tends to be how it goes even when you do everything correctly, because the book was written for circumstances that were already behind the times the moment someone put them to paper. Reality doesn't move in straight lines." She picked up another stone. "I stopped expecting it to somewhere around Cardassia."

Hauq's suggestion about the Syndicate and Hegemony borders earned him a half-smile and a wink. Watching him deposit a massive amount of gems in comparison to her efforts, Enyd rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath, "It isn't a competition."

They worked in silence for a moment, the clink of stones a steady rhythm between them. Then she straightened, and something in her posture shifted — the change she made when she was moving from one matter to a different one entirely, shoulders settling, chin lifting a fraction.

"Different subject." She turned to face him more fully, a handful of stones still loose in her palm. "Has Martok heard anything — rumors, secondhand intelligence, anything at all — about a gathering of factions near Breen space? Recently." Her eyes were steady on his, reading the response before he gave it.

Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: EPI S: The curious case of Humpty Dumpty [Day 03 | 2330 hrs]

Last post by Dumedion - May 13, 2026, 12:14:09 AM

Arven laid a gentle, reassuring hand on Ehfva's misshapen shoulder – carefully, so as not to cause her further discomfort – then turned his attention to the Romulan; Hirek's assessment was met with a brief nod of understanding, initially. The Doctor’s posture shifted at the Romulan’s proposed solution, however: nothing dramatic – a slight crease formed above his nose as Leux folded his arms in silence. Violet eyes bounced rapidly from screen to screen, then settled on the Romulan, searching his expressionless face, his eyes.

What he found there was only what the Romulan had been told was expected of him: authenticity.

The Doctor’s mind raced; risk analysis, potential consequences, known procedures, potential implantation sites, nominal cycle limitations, subsequent follow-up treatments for various outcomes…

Stop, Arven’s jaw clenched.

Ehfva’s labored breaths, punctuated by every tick and spasm of her agony-wracked body, filled his ears. Arven was well aware how most people assumed he didn’t concern himself with much regarding his patients, based off his general attitude towards people; that assumption couldn’t be farther from the truth – he cared a great deal – yet didn’t give a shit what people thought about him personally. He was a Doctor; not a friend, or anything else. Emotional connection invited bias, clouded empirical judgement, and limited his ability to remain objective.

And yet...

Arven had learned a great deal about Ehfva’s species in his research; more than was clinically needed, perhaps. The ability to form shift held far more importance than merely a biological processes of impossible evolution; it impacted every facet of their culture – physically, psychologically, spiritually. It regulated emotion, reproduction, physical growth cycles…

It was who they were…and the Savi ripped that away from her.

And I can’t give it back. Not as it was…not even close, Arven admitted, teeth clenched in frustrated anger. He’s right, the Doctor’s eyes deliberately avoided the Romulan’s, everything ends in mutilation or death without some form of control.

Behind him, a high pitched, barely audible whine joined the chorus of Ehfva’s painful, ragged breaths.

Make the call, now, the Doctor told himself with a subdued sigh.

His arms unfolded as he turned. Tired, violet eyes met Ehfva’s, as he knelt to her level. There were so many ways to say what needed to be said; to tell her everything he had tried had failed, or would ensure she faced a limited lifetime of continual suffering. Normally he wouldn’t have bothered hesitating – not because he enjoyed giving people bad news – but because it was his job to inform his patients.

Leux couldn’t help but notice the way her misshapen hands had cramped into knotted clubs, or that one of Ehfva’s eyes had altered; the iris had swollen in size, the sclera barely visible – the color had shifted to almost pitch black, flecked with gold. His voice dropped to a whisper of cracked urgency mixed with raw sympathy; there was no hope of holding it back in the face of what he knew and the pain in her eyes.

“Hold on, okay,” asked her, face twitching with barely concealed emotion. “Nothing I tried worked. This just might. We’ll work as fast as we can.”

His chin dipped, then he stood.

Composed himself.

“Neurological mapping wont be completely reliable given the morphological flux in progress, but we can compensate for that with a fresh scan upload upon implantation,” Leux spoke as he moved with purpose to the haptic interface in front of the holoprojector, adjacent to the screen display. His fingers activated the console with deft movements, altering the projection of Ehfva’s neurological system into an overlay of three-dimensional imagery. “I’ll get started threading her system structure with archival shift data; that should give us at a baseline for connective tissue variance. What else do you need from me?”

While he spoke, a baseball-sized scanner detached itself from a docking port near the projector to hover up and down along Ehfva’s body where she sat; it droned softly, feeding continuously updated scans into the imagery Arven manipulated with swipes of his fingers; isolating nerve clusters, navigating neurological pathways – zooming deep within the wrinkled mass of her brain.

All of it, down to the individual synaptic pathways between neurons, was slowly changing, only to revert back, then repeat again; he dove deeper - into the deepest, oldest sections. “Here,” he circled an area at the apex of Ehfva’s brainstem, “this hippocampus-like structure appears stable for now; with direct connections to hind-functions and the greater neocortex,” Arven announced, but when he looked over his shoulder, the Romulan was gone.

“What the fuck,” the Doctor sighed.

Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: Epilogue: Sit Rep After Hell [ Day 03 | 2130 ]

Last post by Dumedion - May 11, 2026, 08:22:19 PM

[LT Arven Leux | Conference Lounge | Deck 01 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy] Attn: All
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Frost’ commentary earned the slightest curl to Arven's lips, accompanied with an unnoticed bob of his brows; there was no recognition in the esteemed scientists tone – none that the Doctor’s admittedly poor social skills could detect, anyway. He'd spoken his report verbatim, naturally; utilizing the same factual, carefully rehearsed tone he'd always lectured in.

He always was consistent, Leux snorted mentally, while the other officers spoke. Turn by turn, the depth of their current circumstances revealed itself until the whole clarified into what they all had already known, or, at the very least, had guessed: ship and crew had taken a beating, but managed to survive.

So far, Arven added silently.

Cross took it all in, without much visible reaction at all. Arven couldn’t help but respect that; the Doctor had delivered enough bad news to enough people to know that simple acceptance was never easy – yet the Vulcan made it appear effortless.

A brow twitched as the kid – CONN officer whats-his-name – opted to stumble through an additional report-slash-confession; 'kid' seemed completely appropriate to Leux, as the man looked like he was twelve, trying to explain how he’d fucked up something at the dinner table.

Once the Savi were mentioned along with genetic research, Arven’s ears stood up instantly; given the evidence he’d seen with his own eyes – not to mention the history this crew had with them – Leux couldn’t care less if they’d pissed the bastards off. They never should have aligned themselves with the damned Savi to begin with, as far as he was concerned.

The Doctor’s mouth opened to formally request that data be turned over to Science and Medical for preliminary decoding and review, before Intel took their sweet time with it, but his steam was stolen with Cmdr. Stark’s arrival. Utilizing a measure of respect for decorum, he held his tongue in the silent moments while she read, elbows up on the table with his fingers steepled. That silence was eventually broken as, one by one, Stark addressed each department head in turn; her voice clear, composed, yet unmistakably burdened with an emotional undercurrent – he could feel it by the effort she used to conceal it.

Like an orchestra with one performer out of time, Leux mused sympathetically. Whatever fate had in store for his career, he knew command level wasn’t one of them; the very idea of it was beyond ludicrous.

Stark’s carefully constructed composure threatened to crack once she reached his department, however. Arven didn’t show any outward reaction; he simply waited for her to adjust and compensate, then offered a brief nod that went unnoticed as her attention moved on to Counselling.

Arven’s brows knitted in sudden confusion as he realized a miscommunication had occurred: Ryn. His eyes re-read the verbiage he’d used in his report regarding that particular individual:

Medical staff requests LT Ryn remain detached from engineering repairs to medical facilities.

That’s what he’d said, right? Keep her out of medical repairs – there was plenty other areas to fix, apparently! Arven didn’t want that menace anywhere near medical…she couldn’t even be trusted to maintain her own health, not to mention —

Wait, Arven interrupted himself, (which was mildly neurotic behavior, but he was too tired to give a shit). Let it be. It’s easier to keep her under supervision. Treatment can proceed apace, given the circumstances…two to three days, tops.

Stark’s conclusion brought him back to the moment, and he didn’t waste any time or energy; violet eyes snapped from Stark’s to the CONN kid’s.

“I recommend that data be handed over to Science and Medical for immediate decoding and review,” Leux stated, then pivoted back to Stark with a glance at Cross. “Captain,” he addressed her position rather than rank, having glossed over it in his haste to speak; a minor fumble easily recovered without a break in stride. “Given the technological advancements the Savi utilized, especially in our relative fields of study, regardless how it was obtained,” he nodded to the kid, “that data just might set us on the path of solving some very difficult problems, some of which the Savi created.”

Unlike Commander Stark’s beautifully controlled and composed tone, Arven didn’t even bother trying to hide the venomous edge from his. He paused long enough for everyone to feel it, then pushed on to address another issue – one they all likely recognized the moment she’d walked in, but few had the authority to address. He held Stark's eyes evenly, letting her see that he recognized her symptoms.

“I'd also remind you that rest is also vital for your performance as well,” the Doctor stated, his tone softened to something closer to default factory setting before he turned to address all present. “For all of us. The temptation to shoulder the lion's share of responsibility exists, yes; to push ourselves beyond sustainability for the sake of others. I urge you to avoid this trap – I’ve seen it – lived through it. Believe me, you aren’t helping them if you burn out before the crisis is managed; you only compound the problem.”

That said, Leux opened his hands in silent conclusion.

Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: EPI S: Two sides, same coin [Day 03 | 0930]

Last post by Dumedion - May 11, 2026, 04:55:12 PM

[Colonel Hauq | Diplomatic Suite | Deck 2 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @Ellen Fitz

His eyes tracked her movements in relative silence while they gathered up the stones – simply attentive, nothing more – ready to react should the diplomat's limited endurance give out; or should some other unfortunate turn of event transpire – the woman was a walking storm of chaos, after all. It behooved one to expect the unexpected anywhere she trod, at all times.

The Klingon guard-commander had barely finished reminding himself of that assessment when Eynd performed another act that verified the fact – unintentionally, of course – yet the effect on him remained, nevertheless:

Upon her approach, Hauq stood to his full height; the stones scattered at his boots forgotten, the handful held in his palm creaked as his hand tightened into a fist – a gesture of restraint, of control, not anger. Something in her eyes, in the language of her movement, demanded his attention from somewhere deep within; it called to something beyond the towers and battlements he’d built there, the fortress of himself he’d crafted with meticulous care and preparation in order to function in spite of everything duty required.

Unexpected, to say the least.

He barely registered the brief press of her lips – the mind, heart, and spirit each raced to process the situation at unequal velocity – which forced a slow blink from under the depths of his brows, drawn together in an effort to comprehend what she had done. Then the words. Her appreciation registered, valued for its simple honesty coupled with the fact that it had not been required; before he had beamed aboard, Hauq had prepared himself for the worst of outcomes from this conversation – certainly not this.

The moment passed as quickly as it had come: the diplomat withdrew as Hauq managed only a nod – followed by a subtle growl from the chest – more of an effort to regain himself than any expression of irritation or discomfort. Whatever sorcery she’d vexed upon him faded, its loss somehow more profound – which added another layer of confusion he briefly wrestled into mental submission before it was hurled from the ramparts of his mind.

Hauq returned himself to the task at hand.

Moments passed.

Stones were collected.

The Colonel had half filled his empty flask with them when her voice filled the room again, steady once more. The question almost instantly pulled his features into a stone-chiseled mask of disapproval, which she noticed, of course; yet he listened while she continued – then allowed himself a moment to consider a response.

The stones clinked in their temporary container as he stood.

“There…are a few possibilities that come to mind,” Hauq hesitated, as something close to uncertainty crossed his face briefly. “Such…establishments…have proven problematic for the Empire on more than one occasion, mind; havens for dishonorable scoundrels, rapscallions, and all manner of ill-mannered, deplorable miscreants,” his lips pulled into a fanged grin. “I wish I could be there when you lot show up.”

The levity passed.

“Still,” he growled, “you risk solving one problem by inviting countless more with such a solution.” He paused to reach a decision, rattling the stone-filled flask like a dice-dealer in a gambling hall. Ultimately, Hauq realized, it was not his place to decide; he had been sent to establish a contact between Martok and this ship outide sanctioned lines of communication – what the Chancellor chose to use it for was beyond his purview.

The Colonel nodded, once. “I will make official inquiries; verifiable intelligence, once approved, will be transmitted. I can offer no more,” he admitted grudgingly, yet knew that she would understand. “Unofficially, if this ship happened to turn towards the borders of the Syndicate and Hegemony…well, you’d likely find what you seek without any assistance at all.”

With that said, the Colonel approached the burlap sack upon her desk and dumped the blood-wine damped stones within; at least triple what she had managed to collect.

Hauq frowned at her then, before he turned to collect more.

Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: EPI S: The curious case of Humpty Dumpty [Day 03 | 2330 hrs]

Last post by Ellen Fitz - May 11, 2026, 03:40:52 AM

[ Ehfva Feynri | Main Sickbay | Biolab 2 | Deck 11 | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ] @Dumedion

She had managed rounds for two hours. The recovery ward first, then surgical overflow. Vitals, pain management, and logged observations. She had kept moving, and the shift had stayed manageable — a low, involuntary tension across her misshapen shoulders and claw-hands that she could work around if she didn't push it. Then she couldn't work around it anymore.

The supply closet was the nearest door with a lock. She'd sat on the floor with her back against the shelving and ran the breathing patterns from her kit years, the ones the elders used for initiates who couldn't yet trust their own bodies to stay in one form. She'd just started a healing chant, sung only in her mind for the pain trying to use her vocal cords brought her, when Leux's message came through. She read it twice. Then she got up, with great effort.

She was panting by the time she arrived. The chair wasn't comfortable. Nothing was comfortable. Her body was neither fully furred nor fully flesh at the moment, and whatever it was in between did not sit easily in standard-issue furniture or anything else. She let Leux take her weight at the door without argument — speech cost too much right now, the vocal cords being, like the rest of her, partially one thing and partially another — and let him guide her to the seat.

She nodded at the herbs. Nodded once at Hirek — I know him, yes, that is enough, continue — and that was all she had. The hypo pressed to her arm. She breathed. Kept her hands flat on her thighs and breathed.

Leux moved to the screens and began talking. She closed her eyes. His voice was dry and clinical, and he did not soften any of it, which was easier to track than kindness would have been. When he offered her the ward, she opened her eyes and shook her head. The beds were for critical cases. She knew what was happening in this room, and she intended to remain present for it, in the chair, for as long as her body permitted. She settled back and let them work.

[ Specialist Hirek tr'Aimne | Main Sickbay | Biolab 2 | Deck 11 | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ]

He listened to Leux's ground rules without expression.

When the doctor finished, Hirek said: "I would observe that the history of medicine and the history of science, while frequently cited together, are not the same history. Scientific breakthroughs have a tendency to occur in isolation — one person, an unauthorized problem, materials redirected from requisition orders that no one examines too closely. The vel'drath stimulator is a serviceable example. Medicine has never had that luxury. Medicine requires a living subject, and a living subject requires someone willing to act on incomplete information inside another person's body. That has always required a particular kind of arrogance. The useful kind, when the alternative is waiting for the literature to reach a conclusion while the patient does not." He held Leux's gaze. "You need not concern yourself with my conduct here. I know where I am. I have, on more than one occasion, been the subject rather than the one holding the instrument. It provides clarity regarding what is owed in that direction."

He turned back to the screens. Leux talked. Hirek read. He cross-referenced the briefing against the scan data as it came — the removal of the lupercalis potestas majoris, the contaminated tissue, the consistent failure point across every simulation — and said nothing. When Leux offered Ehfva the ward, Hirek waited. She shook her head, once. He returned his attention to the screen. He took the hypo from Leux without looking at it, pressed it to his neck by feel, and set it on the edge of the console. His eyes did not leave the screen.

"The simulations fail at the same point. The trigger mechanism." He pulled up the strongest of the RNA/DNA transmission sequences. "You need a signal precise enough to activate the correct receiver/transmitter combination for each distinct form, from something permanent, connected to neurological input that isn't fully predictable. You now have a device in your recovery ward built to do something structurally similar. For a considerably less agreeable purpose, but the architecture is the same." He turned. "A vel'drath stimulator, reprogrammed. The mechandrite array can be calibrated to target specific receptor sequences rather than disrupting them. Mapped to the neural pathways that govern each form shift and connected to the relevant control network, it functions as a permanent implant. A prosthetic trigger." He glanced at Ehfva, then back at the screen. "Surgical placement would need to be precise. Calibration would be specific to her neurological profile, and the reprogramming is not trivial. But unlike your simulations, it does not require rebuilding what was taken. It works around the absence."

Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: Epilogue: Sit Rep After Hell [ Day 03 | 2130 ]

Last post by Brutus - May 11, 2026, 01:39:20 AM

[ Commander Natalie Stark | Conference Lounge | V. 1 D. 1 | USS Theurgy ] ATTN: @Ellen Fitz @TWilkins @RyeTanker @rae @chXinya @P.C. Haring @joshs1000 @Dumedion @Nesota Kynnovan @Eden @Pierce @Tae @Stegro88 @Griff @Nolan @ob2lander961 @Eirual @tongieboi @Hans Applegate @Krajin

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Cross saw her before she'd fully cleared the threshold. "Commander. I've sent a summary of all department reports to your PADD." He stepped back from the head of the table, the nod that accompanied it leaving no ambiguity about what he was doing or why. The commander - Acting captain she reminded herself, then discarded the thought - looked from the man, to head of the table, and repressed the urge to sigh, simply nodding once instead. Anything the group had been talking about before her arrival - if it needed to be immediately addressed they would do so when she was finished.

Cameron came in half a step behind Natalie, slightly breathless, and pressed a PADD into her hand. Natalie took it, found Cross's summary already queued at the top, and did the thing she least wanted to do in front of a room full of department heads — she stood there and read it. Quickly. Not quickly enough. She could feel every set of eyes doing the polite thing, which was looking somewhere else, which somehow made it worse. Hull. Weapons. Navigation. Shuttles. Medical. Personnel losses by department. She did not linger on any single line long enough, which meant she was going to be issuing orders on incomplete information.

That was command. Apparently. She looked up.

"I apologize for my absence." Her voice came out even, which she noted with something close to relief. "I was with the President. Commander Cross may have already told you that. What he couldn't tell you is that while I was in that meeting, we received new intelligence from our contact at Starfleet Intelligence." She glanced down at the PADD. Back up. "I'll address what that means for each department."

She found Arnold first. Then Ravenholm. Her eyes dropped to the PADD, located the engineering summary, came back up.

"Engineering. Operations. The President is — " She stopped. Read one line. Her jaw moved slightly before she continued. "Encountering resistance regarding our access to Federation supply lines. Authorization exists. What doesn't exist is confidence in us, and that gap is going to cost us time." She kept her eyes up now, away from the PADD. She knew this part. Knew to keep the emotion out of her voice, the frustraton at the delay and what that meant had to be done. "You are authorized — by me — to use back channels. Off the record procurement. Whatever this crew has accumulated in the way of relationships and favors operating outside the system." Her chin lifted slightly. "Document what you can. Don't document what you can't. Commander Cross will coordinate with me on anything that needs command cover."

She shifted her weight, turned a fraction toward the center of the table.

"There is a sanctioned operation that will offset some of what we can't requisition through official channels." She glanced down. Found it. "USS Cayuga." She said it simply. Never mind that she did not want to think about those people. Many of them were friends and former crew-members to herself, and those around the table. "The President has formally tasked us with a recovery mission. All hands are presumed lost. We retrieve sensitive data cores, recover advanced systems, and deny classified technology to anyone who finds that wreckage before we do." She did not elaborate on what else the mission was. Her eyes moved briefly across the faces nearest her. She suspected some of them already could. "The operation goes on the books exactly as it is: a sanctioned Starfleet salvage. We execute it cleanly."

Llewellyn-Kth. She checked the PADD. CONN. She looked around until she found his face. "Routing options to Cayuga that account for our current navigational limitations. Whatever keeps us out of trouble while we're operating degraded." She moved past the star chart discrepancies he'd raised — those were a conversation for when she'd had six consecutive hours of sleep. [/color=red]"Options on my desk before 0600."[/color]

Lok. Rel. She looked at both of them, dropped her eyes to the PADD, scrolled until she found the info, then glanced back up. "Fighter Bay. Wolves. The request for pilots and new frames goes formally to the task force. Cayuga salvage will need escort coverage in the meantime." Her shoulders dropped a fraction, something in her posture conceding the obvious. "I'm not asking for what I know you don't have. Commander Rel — tell me what's possible and I'll work inside it."

Pierce. Natalie kept the PADD at her side for this one, her eyes steady on the intelligence officer's face. "The information we received tonight corroborates Dewitt's report and Lieutenant Madsen's private channel both. I'm not reading the full picture into the record yet, but work from the assumption that what Dewitt sent us is the beginning, not the whole." Her chin dipped once, sharp and deliberate. "Internal pattern recognition as well. The supply line obstruction we're already seeing doesn't emerge from nowhere. I want eyes on it."

Madsen. PADD up. Find the line. [/color=red]"Diplomacy. Prisoner disposition — proposal on my desk by 0800, as Commander Cross directed. The back channel work with the Coalition and with Martok's people continues."[/color] She looked up from the PADD, held Madsen's gaze. "Whatever you need from me to support those conversations, you have it."

zh'Wann. One brief check of the summary. "Security. The recommendation to limit external forays is affirmed at the command level. We don't extend the ship until we can cover what we already have." Another glance down, back up. "Exosuit replacement goes on the task force list alongside Arnold's components and Leux's personnel request." She squared toward zh'Wann slightly. "And I want the conversation about the deputy slot — the three of us, soon."

T'Less. She didn't need the PADD for this one. "Tactical — Vector Two stays off primary tactical response until the array is corrected. Defensive posture holds. We are not in a position to absorb a sustained engagement and I will not place us in one."

Science. She looked at Frost and dropped her eyes to the PADD and kept them there, because this part she had composed carefully while the President's staff talked logistics around her and she hadn't wanted to lose the thread of it. Certainly not for any other reason. "Two standing research priorities, effective immediately." She read the first one cleanly. "Continued development of a method to separate an Infested entity from its host without killing the host. Whatever interdepartmental resources that requires, bring the request to me directly. Second — a scalable screening method. Not case by case. Something that works at volume." She lowered the PADD and held it at her side. "I know we're not there. Getting there is the assignment, because until we have it, the institutional suspicion we're operating inside doesn't diminish." She thought of the President's aide. She thought of the word Anderson. Neither made it out of her mouth. "Whatever was lost in Hydroponics that showed promise — flag it for the Cayuga salvage list. If Cayuga doesn't have it, we find another way."

Medical.She looked down at the PADD. The summary was right there. Two-thirds strength. Senior officer cadre KIA or in stasis. She had read it three minutes ago. She read it again now anyway, because her eyes had stopped moving and she was looking at the word stasis and not entirely seeing Leux's department anymore.

Vanya was in one of those bays. Her Vanya, who had contracted something on her last mission that the doctors and engineers had not been able to treat, and whom Natalie had not allowed herself to think about at length since because thinking about it at length led somewhere she could not afford to go while there was still a ship to run. Whether Vanya would come back from it — whether there was a version of this where she walked out of that bay intact — was a question without an answer, and Natalie had been keeping that question at the very edge of her attention. The sheer incredulity of a virus - or whatever it was - that affected an Android...now was no the time. Would it ever be?

She became aware that the room was waiting. Her throat moved. She looked up and found Leux's face.
"Lieutenant — " She stopped. Something in her jaw tightened, released. "Leux." Her voice was where it needed to be. Close enough. "Lieutenant Ryn is formally detached to medical facilities. The personnel request goes to the task force." She held her ground in front of the weight of what she hadn't finished reading. "Your report's recommendation regarding rest and recuperation — I'm implementing rotating rest schedules across all departments within the next twelve hours. That is not optional." Her eyes moved across the table. "I need this crew functional for what comes next."

She turned toward Hathev and kept her eyes there and did not look back down at the PADD.

"Counselor Hathev. I want department heads formally informed of what to watch for in their people over the next two to four weeks as deferred processing begins." Her hands came together briefly in front of her, fingers pressing once before dropping back to her sides. "Not as a directive. As information. People take better care of each other when they know what they're looking at." Her eyes held the Counselor's for a moment longer than strictly necessary before she pulled them forward. "Protected rest rotations for your staff are approved. Non-negotiable."

She looked at the room.

There were things she hadn't said. The anomaly. The full scope of Anderson's intelligence and what it meant for where this ship was going and why it mattered that they arrived there intact. That conversation would come when the ship was more whole and the crew had slept and she had figured out how to say it without her voice doing what it was currently threatening to do.

"Those are your orders." Her hands stayed at her sides. Times like this, she felt as if she had no idea what to do with them. "Some of what I've asked won't be immediately possible. I know that. The intent is that you know the direction so when things stabilize — and they will — we don't lose time reorienting." She glanced at Cross. Once. Briefly. "Are there any questions or concerns?"

Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: EPI S: Two sides, same coin [Day 03 | 0930]

Last post by Ellen Fitz - May 10, 2026, 07:20:42 PM

[ Lt. Enyd Isolde Madsen | Chief Diplomatic Officer's Office | Deck 08 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] @Dumedion

She watched him wrestle. Not obviously — Hauq was not a man who did anything obviously — but she had spent enough time in rooms with people choosing their words like footing on uncertain ground to recognize the tells. The fractional hesitation. The decision to stop rather than continue. The careful landing and the thing left unsaid behind it. And she listened without seeking to formulate an immediate response, letting his carefully chosen words fall on her nerves casually.

Her chest rose and fell in a long exhale, and she stared at the ceiling a final moment before letting her head roll to watch him collecting bloodstones with the methodical movements of a man who has cleaned up after considerably worse than this.

"No." She said it to the ceiling as much to him. "You're right. I'm too stubborn for my own good. And besides, the spirit of my grandmother would rise from her grave and beat the ever-loving snot out of me if I were to even think about giving up." The grin came sideways, tired but genuine. "And I'll take the blade analogy. You've a way with words, when you want to, Hauq." Her eyes tracked him moving among the scattered stones. "Priceless blade. I'm keeping that."

She shifted on the floor and the smell reached her at approximately the same moment the word cleansed finished echoing in her memory. Her nose wrinkled.

"Oh." An exaggerated sniff. "Oh, I agree wholeheartedly with the cleansed part too. A long hot shower is in order."

She took his extended hand with a bemused smile. The grip was solid and she came up off the floor cleanly. She stood, steadied, offered him a wry look, then stopped. Withdrew her hand from his. Reached into the collar of her uniform shirt with the focused expression of someone performing minor surgery and retrieved, one by one, three bloodstones that had apparently made the journey south. She held them out in her palm, looked at them, then at Hauq.

"Joint effort," she said. "The mess and the cleanup both." She set the stones on the nearest clear surface of the desk. "I appreciate it."

She turned toward the largest cluster near the far wall and crossed to them, crouching to begin gathering — then stopped. Straightened. Turned back. She stepped back to him, leaned up, and pressed a brief kiss to his cheek, then stepped back to her own space without ceremony.

"Thank you." The wryness was gone, just for a moment. "For coming here and saying the hard things to my face." Her hand moved slightly, taking in the room, the conversation, the stones, the broken chair. "And for this. I can't promise I won't be a thorn in your side again — that would be a lie and we've been too honest with each other tonight to ruin it now." She held his gaze. "But I'll give you as much warning of the incoming chaos as I'm able. That much I can promise." She let her fingers stroke the roughened skin of his cheek for the briefest of seconds before she turned back to the stones.

She gathered. He gathered. Then she straightened, a handful of stones in her palm, and her voice shifted back into its working register.

"Hypothetically." She deposited the stones into the salvaged pouch without looking at him. "If the Theurgy crew needed to procure supplies. Parts. Resources. Off the record." She looked up before he could respond. "Before you tell me what you think of that — consider what the President said, and the pushback already moving through official channels. We have a pardon that exists on paper and is being contested in practice. We have a ship that needs repair and people who want us functional and accountable while making sure the means to become functional stay closed or watched." She set the pouch down. "I don't know this for certain. But I know I would do that if the roles were reversed, and I'm not even the most devious person I know." She tilted her head. "So. Off the record. Would you know which direction to point us — if it came to that?"

Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: EPI S: The curious case of Humpty Dumpty [Day 03 | 2330 hrs]

Last post by Dumedion - May 09, 2026, 09:47:14 PM

Arven leaned into the Romulan’s response, almost fascinated; well, fascinated wasn’t exactly the right term – he had proposed the question out of idle curiosity, using it to fill the awkward silence that reigned while they waited – a risky endeavor, where most patients were concerned. While he noted the carefully masked twitches of physical discomfort in the Romulan’s movements (which was to be expected, of course), Leux hadn’t expected such a clearly stated justification in his response. Perhaps refreshing was a better term to use; yes - Arven found his honest use of dishonesty (however the Romulan chose to spin the phrase), refreshing.

Everyone lies, the doctor shrugged, brows bouncing a little with the movement. Some are better at it than others. His mind had already formulated a response, yet their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Ehfva Feynri, the Vulpinian of the hour, as it were.

Arven moved as soon as he saw her, face blanked of all amusement in an instant: she’d shuffled into the room, fanged maw clenched, clearly in agony. Her body, caught between physical forms (thanks to the meddling of unethical, arrogant beings that Arven would love to beat senselessly for what they had done) had continued to slowly morph - unhinged and uncontrolled - into an amalgamation of all three forms.

And it was slowly killing her.

A hand reached to steady Ehfva as he easily took her weight. “Steady,” he nodded to the chair, guiding her there. He didn’t need to scan her to see the obvious. “Your condition is deteriorating faster than I expected,” he admitted quietly, his tone dry yet clearly apologetic.

Once he had her seated – as comfortably as she was able – Leux returned his tired eyes to Hirek before moving back to the array of display screens. He pulled a hypo from a shelf, activated it by rote without looking, then broke eye contact to program it as he spoke.

“I’m giving you a mix of synthetic herbal compounds you should be familiar with; alliprous root, conferatii copus, extract of pyre-weed. These are used to postpone the pain of uninitiated kits, I believe,” he told Ehfva. The Vulpinian blinked at him slowly, then nodded with a faint whine. Arven returned the gesture, then pressed the device to her outstretched arm gently. “I noticed you two know each other – does that mean you trust him enough to help with your treatment? I need your consent to show him everything.”

Again, the Vulpinian blinked, then nodded, her muzzle wrinkled with effort.

“Let’s get to it then,” he sighed quietly, then glanced at the Romulan before moving to the cluster of display screens, fingers moving as he spoke. “Here’s the thing, Mr. tr’Aimne,” the Doctor’s tone returned to his dry, matter-of-fact bluntness.

“This isn’t Frost’ department; while I’ll freely admit the good Doctor possesses a certain...natural arrogance that could easily be taken advantage of – I’m not about to offer you the same leeway. No one operates solo here; we work as a team, supervised, checked and rechecked, verified by peer review and adhered to protocol. This isn’t personal, mind. I don’t know you. I haven’t read anything you’ve published - if you’ve published anything at all - I’ve never seen you work; I don’t even know if you’re capable or completely full of shit,” he stopped, turned, and met the Romulan’s eyes evenly. “But I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt and test the theory.”

He let that sit.

“As far as what register I expect from you – I thought it obvious, but I will certainly clarify: I expect authenticity. Not only for me,” Arven shook his head, and jabbed a thumb over his shoulder to the ward. “For the staff, and especially for my patients. Gaslighting will not be tolerated. Deception will not be tolerated. If you can’t step up to that plate, for whatever reason, I suggest you do as I mentioned earlier; let the nurses do the talking, or limit your activities here accordingly. Authenticity matters here,” he paused, hesitating; he didn’t have time nor the right to lecture the man. His eyes broke away, returning to the screens with a sigh of resignation. “Look, bottom line: we all have our reasons for being the way we are. Intent and action matter here more than interpersonal skills; I’m a perfect exemplar of that fact. Keep all this in mind while you offer assistance, and we’ll get along swimmingly,” Leux concluded.

On the screens, Ehfva’s medical case lay unredacted; the brutality of the Savi writ clearly upon the various scans – how they had savaged the Vulpinian’s ability to cleanly and controllably shift forms by surgically removing the lupercalis potestas majoris gland from the base of her skull, nestled deep in between the rear quarter lobes of her brain. Various treatment simulations played out alongside, each resulting in various degrees of success before ultimately failing in agonizing death.

Leux proceeded to brief them both without further ado - his tone moderated and clinical - stating facts; known traumas, condition, pain levels, vital statistics, responses to pain management and treatments thus far. He dictated the unfortunate death of Ensign Sashenka Kreshkova, whom the Savi had implanted with Ehfva’s stolen morphogenic control cluster; details were spared, for obvious reasons – yet the outcome was not. Any hope of salvaging the stolen neurological tissue was hopeless, as it had already become contaminated beyond recourse by foreign DNA. He moved on to the most hopeful of treatment simulations: a series of theoretical methods of neuro-pheromonic control, utilizing the proper combination of RNA/DNA reciver/transmitters to trigger a form shift. Each one depended on completely untested and unverified levels of biogenetic manipulation, keyed to every individual cell in the patient’s body.

“That,” Arven sighed at the Romulan in conclusion, “is where, I hope, you come in.”

It felt like he had talked non-stop for at least an hour before he ran out of words. Arven moved and gestured for the Romulan to approach the screens while he tended to Ehfva, taking a clean towel to her maw where it dripped red-tinted saliva. “I can take you to the ward, if you prefer. You needn’t sit here in agony.”

He let the Romulan review in the silence that lingered, waiting with a patience his bone tired body didn't truly feel. He blinked then, remembering Hirek's obvious mobility discomfort. The Doctor reached around Ehfva and secured another hypo, programmed it, then reached out and offered it to the man.

"Romotrin, 200 mg dose. Take a hit every four hours, as needed. I'd offer you something stronger, but I'd hate for you to get loopy and let loose your secret identity."