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Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Chapter 5: Mission Objective - ESCAPE!

Last post by Ellen Fitz - March 13, 2025, 02:52:55 PM

TIME: Day 2, 1000HRS

Lucan was just “turning the page” of the book on his PADD when the door to his makeshift brig/quarters opened and the captain with the security personnel who’d been tasked with keeping an eye on him all but fell into the room carrying something writhing. Standing from his bed, Lucan moved closer to the force field, curious at first and then beyond surprised when he realized what, or rather who, it was they were holding.

“By the winds, how –“ Lucan stopped himself from asking a question no one was presently capable of answering.

It didn’t really matter at this point how they’d managed to apprehend the Praetor and drag her aboard the Allegiant. What mattered was using the kemocite cannon on her, exposing her to the transphasic light to determine if she was among the Infested or if her recent machinations had merely been born out of a militantly calculating mind bent on destruction.

“Hold her!” Ives ordered the security personnel, barely avoiding Tal’Aura’s snapping jaws as, between her howls and snarls, she tried to take a bite out of anyone and anything close.

The security personnel didn’t need to be ordered twice. Using all their combined weight and strength, they held fast as the captain retreated behind the cannon to ready it. Lucan quickly moved back to his bed, shifting to the furthest corner of it. Even when he wasn’t having an episode, probably because the parasite remained inside him feeding off his body’s energy, exposure to the light still felt like shit.

Her words were barely comprehensible as the Praetor continued to writhe against her captors while Captain Ives powered up the cannon. He recognized the evil desperation in the undertones of her voice, had heard it enough times in his nightmares, in the echoing memories of things he’d said while under the Infested’s control. As if responding to the call, Lucan imagined he felt the parasite within him give a lurch, twisting in his gut.

No. Lucan pressed a hand over his belly, scowling at the scene as it continued to unfold just outside his “cell.”

Seconds passed like hours, but mid-spittle spewing threat, the cannon fired a beam directly into the Praetor’s body, and the woman fell limp. Ives approached, wary but determined. One of the medical personnel who’d joined for this grand adventure approached at his signal, administering a hypospray with deft movements as if afraid the woman would awaken and try to take a chunk out of her at any second.

“Praetor Tal’Aura,” Captain Ives spoke evenly as the woman slowly came to, “I am Captain Ives of the USS Theurgy. Do not be alarmed. We mean you no harm.”

Lucan heard a raspy chuckle. “Then…why am I…where am I…” Tal’Aura shook her head from side to side, blinking Ives into focus. “What have you done to me?”

“We have exposed you to a device that works to subdue the parasite that was implanted within you.” Ives gestured toward Lucan. “You are not alone in acting as an unwilling host. But let this moment serve as hope that you need not continue to be used against your will.”

Tal’Aura glared at Lucan, quickly noting the forcefield with a lip curl of distaste. Returning her attention to Ives, she squared her shoulders. “I am myself, captain. Do they still need to hold me like a prisoner when you have just made claims that you mean me no harm?”

Ives took a steadying breath before giving the security personnel a subtle nod. They seemed more than a little reluctant to let go but followed orders, standing on either side of the still kneeling Romulan with their hands on their weapons, ready to draw and fire at a moment’s notice.

“Are you aware that a fleet of Romulan ships is presently speeding towards the Romulan-Klingon border to break through the Neutral Zone and commit an act of war against the Federation?”

Tal’Aura gathered her robes and rose to her full height, shorter than Ives, yet still managed to stare down her nose at him. “By whose orders?”

“Yours.”

“How is that possible?” She sounded less than convinced, pausing to glare at Lucan again as if he had a part to play in her current circumstances.

Captain Ives gave her a much-condensed version of her status as one of the Infested, of their powers and intent, calling on Lucan a time or two to share insight from one who shared in the fate of being a flesh puppet. When Tal’Aura pressed for more details on what it meant, long-term to be Infested, Lucan had felt more than a little reluctance in laying it out in plain truth to her. She didn’t strike the doctor as one who would willingly accept a life spent dwelling under the watchful eye of a kemocite cannon. Not that he relished it either, but he had more extensive experience with the ins and outs of its construction and still maintained hope that they could perfect it, maybe even find a way to eradicate the parasite altogether without ending his own life in the process.

“What do you want from me, captain?” Tal’Aura folded her hands together in front of her body, looking far more calm in the face of the current chaos than Lucan thought possible.

“Recall your fleet. Now that you know of the Infested, now that you understand you are Infested, you may understand how they benefit from the chaos outright war will bring. Their numbers will spread unchecked to a point where there is no turning back the tide. Instead of letting their duplicitous manipulations divide us from within, toppling governments and threatening alliances, let us combine forces and find a way to remove the parasites, to end them permanently.”

Tal’Aura studied the captain for some time then, a contemplative frown furrowing her ridged brow. “Allow me to contact my fleet.” Her voice held a hardened edge that tickled Lucan’s nerves.

Captain Ives nodded, stepping back slightly to gesture toward the door. “This way.”

The group left with a heavy wariness swirling about them. Lucan moved to the table where he’d left a few morsels of food and drink from his last meal. Sipping at the water, he paced the width of his cell. Something didn’t seem right, and not necessarily because of the parasite’s presence. He finished his water and was nibbling on a piece of bread when the cell door opened, and one of the engineers they’d left onboard to tinker with the cannon entered. His face was ashen, hands shaking, as he went to work double-checking the cannon.

“What has happened?”

The engineer shook his head when he looked at Lucan, a mixture of confusion and fear swirling the depths of his gaze.

“The Praetor attempted suicide while talking to her fleet commander.”

Lucan tossed his roll onto his plate and paced closer to the force field. “By the winds…what?”

“Soon after she contacted her fleet commander, they switched to visual communication, and it was then that she ordered the commander to defend Romulus to the death, no matter who the enemy was, and then she stabbed herself with a knife she’d had hidden in her robes.”

“Is she dead?”

The engineer shook his head. “I don’t know. The captain has the medical team looking at her while we wait for the last of our teams to board. I wasn’t there when it happened, but I heard he tried to continue talking to the fleet commander, but communication was severed before he could get very far.”

Lucan swore as he took a heavy seat on his bed. They’d come all this way to expose Tal’Aura to the truth, and they’d done that very thing. But they’d not managed to prevent the battle that was likely about to take place at the Triangle. Be it doubt at the truths she’d been given by Ives and Lucan or her own determined motives secret to all but herself, Tal’Aura had added fuel to the fires of chaos instead of letting a cool breeze of rationality quell them.

What now? Lucan thought to himself, allowing his head to fall back against the bulkhead and letting the engineer work silently as they mulled over recent events and their ramifications. If Tal’Aura survived her own efforts, would she be more compliant and reasonable? If she didn’t, who would take up the baton of leadership over the Romulan people? Lucan closed his eyes, pressing fingers against his temple. Of all the possible outcomes to this mission, THIS had not been one he’d pictured.

[PO2 Kino Jeen | Transporter Room | Deck 1 | USS Allegiant]

She’d been falling in reverse into a black pit of oblivion, lit by the baleful energies of an unstable artificial black hole: the most dangerous and destructive force in creation. Kino knew she was dead; her mind snap-fired between outrage to acceptance, regrets and lost opportunities, then finally heartache, as she fell. No one could doubt that she'd fought the good fight – she’d tried her best. She hoped, somehow, that Reika would understand...and try to find some measure of peace, of happiness. Kino closed watering eyes, hearing naught but the wind in her ears and the snap-crackle of hyper-condensed magnetic conductors screaming in overload...then felt the detonations cook-off above, to bath her in an orange glow of heat.

I’m so sorry, Legs…

An instant later, Kino's body crashed onto the transporter pad hard enough to crack the polished surface, sending shards of glass out in ricochets in every direction. There she lay, unable to do much of anything but groan and force herself to keep breathing; which is how Chief Nilsson found her. Kino lay curled up on her side, one arm bent at an awkward angle, a mass of bruised flesh and bloody wounds.

“Shit, Kino! Easy, Jeen – easy,” she heard Nilsson’s voice, felt hands press against the worst of her injuries; the blade wound to her shoulder was a ragged hole that oozed blood in time with Jeen's pulse, but the damage done to her eye probably looked worse - a bloody, swollen mass of bruised tissue nearly cut in half. “Get her to sickbay, now,” Kino heard Nilsson bark, and more hands gripped onto her, as lucidity ebbed...

I’m gonna...pass out now, Kino’s mind murmured drunkenly, as everything faded to black.

But it didn’t last.

Awareness blared to life in an instant with a tidal wave of pain; someone was screaming her name - in warning or a plea for help – Kino wasn’t sure. A hypo stood vertical, embedded in her chest. The non-com ripped it out as she sat up and rolled out of the way of a body on instinct; it crashed onto the desk she’d been laid out on with bone-cracking force. Kino scrambled, hands clutching whatever she could for makeshift weapons: a laser-scapel, and a shard of glass.

“Hm, another plaything,” someone mused, in two distinct voices blended as one with an unmistakably wet, feminine, and sinister tone. Kino looked up in time to see a blur of movement: black hair, glowing eyes, a flow of robes – then she was held aloft by the throat – choking. “Greetings, broken fleshling,” the voice purred from the blood-stained grin of Praetor Tal’Aura. A body lay behind her on the floor in bloody pieces; torn completely in half. Dark green stains coated the cramped medical bay, filling it with the butcher house reek of slaughter. “Brace yourself. This will not be quick, nor painless,” the Praetor’s grin stretched even wider – impossibly wide – as the thing within her that rode her flesh savored the torment to come. A pale hand, dripping with green gore, filled Kino’s vision - the slightly blue-tinted one of her cybernetic eye – then the Trill managed to scream as white-hot agony filled her skull.

The Praetor’s fingers gouged, then gripped, and with a savage laugh, the infested cunt ripped the mechanical implant out of Kino's face; she even held it up like a newfound toy with a gleeful smile.

“F-Fuck. Y-you,” Jeen half screamed/half choked out, and pinioned the laser-scapel into Tal’Aura’s right ear, then drove the blade of glass into her left eye. A dark, gurgled chuckle sounded as Kino was discarded to the deck in a heap of bloody and abused limbs.

“Amusing as ever,” the Praetor giggled, then spun away from Jeen as the door to sickbay opened.

“Kill it,” Kino heard a commanding voice order, just before the room filled with phaser fire. Jeen scrambled away in a low crawl as fast as her damaged body would go, through the green-tinted lake of blood and entrails between the ripped apart body that was once the Vulcan botanist, Cir’Cie, while the Praetor laughed. Not...not Tal’Aura, Kino realized. It was the thing that had burrowed inside Tal’Aura – the thing that they’d come to find, and hopefully, stop. The Praetor’s body was being ripped apart right in front of her, burned to tatters; but the thing just kept laughing. It spread its arms wide, and took a step forward. “Behold your end,” it cackled, even as it burned into nothingness – and charged.

Jeen scrambled to her feet, slipped, fell. The door closed, but she could hear the fighting; voices shouting, phaser fire, the clang of metal on metal. By the time she got to her feet again, and managed to wipe the blood-coated door release, it was all over…
Ives sat upon the torn apart remains of the Praetor’s headless body, both hands wrapped around the hilt of a keen-edged blade; it was driven down through the Romulan’s chest, and well into the deck beneath.

“C-Captain,” Kino panted, barely able to stand. “S-she…,”

“It," Ives corrected. "Whatever remained of the former Praetor clearly did not wish to live. It’s over,” Ives grunted in pain, ignoring his own wounds as he looked to his crew first; he stood and withdrew the sword with a grimace of effort. “See to the wounded,” Ives nodded to them all, “and make ready for departure as soon as we have all crew accounted for,” he waved a hand to Tal’Aura. “Preserve this as best we can. It may yet prove useful.”

Someone rushed to Kino’s side; she felt hands try to steady her – pressing into her wounds – and agony re-flared too hot and too overbearing to counter. Kino fell to one knee as Ives continued to issue orders, but she couldn’t keep up. Overcome with pain and unbearable fatigue, Jeen sat against the bulkhead for a moment, just a moment to rest her eyes…

And everything faded to black.

NARRATOR: It was not without loss of life and significant damage to their ship that Captain Ives and his infiltration crew successfully outed Tal’Aura of her Infested nature and established new diplomatic ties with a new faction among the Romulans, one that contested the rule of both the deceased Tal’Aura and the Empress Donatra. Though they retreated back toward the Triangle with their injured and new allies, there were still more questions that had yet to be answered lurking in their minds. What would they find at the Triangle? How would Donatra receive the news of Tal’Aura’s death AND the newly open opposition from among the Romulan-Reman movement? Only time would tell…

TIME: Day 2, 2200HRS

[ Hirek tr’Aimne | Medical Bay | Upper Deck| USS Allegiant ]

“You somehow managed to look worse than me,” Hirek’s voice was strained as he fought back a wave of pain. His comment, lobbed at the Trill on the one biobed of the medical bay, was playful in its barb, traded from one survivor to another. “Reika chose you as her one true love already; there was no need to make such an entrance.”

Whatever pithy remark the Kino intended was temporarily lost as all crew were instructed to brace themselves. The order came mere milliseconds before the ship lurched and heaved, likely from weapons fire. Hirek’s efforts to brace were mightily hindered by his wounds, courtesy of the Tal’Shiar examiner. He managed to grab hold of a counter only to have his feet swept out from under him, landing in a painful heap on the deck.

“I think I’ll just stay here for now,” he waved away the attempted help from a crewmate, who’d paused in taking care of Kino just long enough to brace and notice Hirek’s plight, “until a vacancy develops, this is probably a safer option for me while my fellow, albeit misguided, Romulans attempt to end our existence.”

Injured during their temporary stay at the Citadel, Hirek was curious if it was Lillee flying through the gauntlet of Romulan fighters or if someone else had taken over. The ship rattled again, marginally less violent this time, indicating that the fighters were still in pursuit. It’d been close, their arrival back at the Allegiant and subsequent effort to get off the planet as fast as possible, stealth be damned by that point. Hirek was torn in that, on the one hand, he was glad they were all still alive (well, mostly all) and all in one piece (again, mostly). On the other hand, it was almost embarrassing how they’d managed to get onto Romulus, muck about as they’d done, and get off the planet without greater loss of life.

Still, there was much to be celebrated (if even for the previous few minutes they had left of life before a Romulan fighter got lucky and obliterated their shields and then the ship altogether). The Praetor had been unmasked as being Infested and had saved them all heaps of trouble by “killing” herself, only to die again by Kino’s hand. This left the conniving bitch, Donatra, to be dealt with. Hirek didn’t trust her more than he’d trusted Tal’Aura, as both had favored using the Tal’Shiar in even greater capacities to secure their rule and terrorize their people into compliance.

And now they had this new Reman-Romulan faction, led by Senator Vkruvux and the Reman forces and backed by Senator tr’Rehu and his coalition. During their escape and destruction of the Citadel, a number of those within the faction had come through, and in many ways, they were only successful in getting back to the Allegiant on account of these new potential allies. But would the captain follow through with what they were asking of him? Would he support their claim to govern Romulus and advocate thusly to the non-Infested Federation council when such a time offered itself?

“For fuck’s sake!” The crewman tending to Kino cursed as the ship shuddered, sending his body bouncing between the biobed and a set of drawers.

Hirek concurred with the man’s frustration and unspoken question. There was no way to know if their new perhaps allies would swoop in to their rescue, and Hirek knew they could. The Remans had more than a few ships at their disposal, both officially and unofficially. If they didn’t, then whoever was at the helm and manning the weapons on the ship had better be at their best. Otherwise, none of them would live long enough to contemplate the curiosity of a Reman-integrated Romulan future.

NARRATOR: Soon after leaving Romulus, the Allegiant was hounded by a number of Romulan fighters. It was only because of the superb flying of the Allegiant that they managed to survive.

TIME: Day 2, 2300HRS

[ Captain Ives | Bridge | Upper Deck | USS Allegiant ]

“Sir, I believe I’m picking up the Apache, also on course toward the Triangle.”

Petty Officer Fen Chao’s voice broke through the din of crew calling one to another, working together to fix what systems they could before they arrived back at the Triangle, and whatever dangers lurked therein. Ives wasn’t certain what or who had recalled the fighters pursuing them from Romulus, but their survival was only on account of that variable.

Chao continued as if reading Ives’ reflection on the Romulan pursuit. “There appear to be Romulan ships moving in close formation around it. I’m not detecting weapons’ fire.”

Shifting his weight in his chair to lean forward, Ives replied, “Are they within signal range?”

There was a pause before a “Yessir. Audio only.”

“Put them through.” A moment passed before he was given the signal for connection. “Apache, this is the Allegiant. Do you copy? What’s your status?”

A crackle sounded before a female voice. [ “Yes, Allegiant, we copy. This is Ensign Henshaw. We lost Lieutenant Amarik and others. We were successful in scanning the triggers and relayed our data onward. Have not received confirmation that they received it. Our presence at the station was detected, and during our escape, we commandeered a few ships to support our efforts.” ]

Ives nodded. That explained the Romulan ships. He was not looking forward to the casualty report and dreaded the numbers of crew lost, the names they’d have to add to the memorial wall. They’d only just finished one memorial service, and if they managed to pull off another survival trick in the next few hours, he’d have to officiate another memorial service.

“Thank you, Ensign Henshaw. We will relay a new set of coordinates to you. I want to rendezvous before arriving at the Triangle. As we were unable to call off Tal’Aura’s forces, we will know soon enough if they have beaten us to the Triangle.” Ives nodded to Chao, who quickly moved to follow his orders. “You’ve done a commendable job. All of you have.”

[“Thank you sir, we’ve received the coordinates. Henshaw out.”]

Now, all they could do was continue to make what repairs were possible, link up with the Apache, and continue on to the Triangle. They were still too far out to establish contact or scan, but Ives didn’t need those to confirm his suspicions. He had every confidence that all hell was presently breaking loose among his crew and allies.

AND NOW THE BATTLE AT THE TRIANGLE COMMENCES…

Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: Ch 5 S [ D02 | 0800 hrs.] No One Left Behind

Last post by Ellen Fitz - March 13, 2025, 02:36:44 PM

[ Major Delon tr’Ruwan | Tier 3 Sub-level 6 | Planetary Defense and Reporting Department | Romulus ] ATTN: @rae @Pierce @Dumedion @P.C. Haring @chXinya @Griff

The day had finally arrived.

All his sacrifices and compromises, and those of his family, would finally pay off.

Or so Delon dared to hope as he watched his console light up with the frantic reports he’d so cleverly rerouted and intercepted before they could carry on to their final destination.

Being so far down in the hierarchy had its perks in that he’d installed the equipment and coded the programs necessary to succeed in this incept without anyone looking twice. As the son of a disgraced senator, he’d been “punished” into serving in this inconsequential department. But that’d suited him just fine. It allowed him access to numerous systems within the government, many of which had no notion they had a “backdoor” so blatantly open to the likes of Delon.

With a subtle smirk of delight, Delon patched the connections from the Praetor’s guards through to the preprogrammed response, giving them false hope of support of more guards while keeping the true recipient's none the wiser of the problem. Where the other members of their faction were taking the Praetor, Delon didn’t know, and he didn't particularly care. All he knew was that the day had arrived for Praetor Tal Aura to be ousted from her position, making way for the growth of his faction.

Delon knew it would be some time before their efforts could be publicly acknowledged, but he was a patient man. And, more than that, he still had much to do to ensure their success in the meantime…

[Tiramex | Pneumatic Shuttle Bay | Sub-level 12 |Citadel Val’Theldun | Romulus]

His wounds still smarted, but watching the surviving Star Fleeters escape the remains of the Citadel via the secure pneumatic tube system helped Tiramex ignore any lingering pains. Most of the Citadel remained standing, but enough of it was damaged or destroyed in their route to freedom to signal to the Romulan—and Reman—people that a major change was coming. The ominous symbol of suppression was smoking and charred in places now, with only a few towers left glittering in pristine condition.

It was a shame that not all of the Star Fleeters had made it. From what he’d heard on their secure channel, at least one Vulcan female had been killed in the escape attempt, and undoubtedly, more would be lost if they didn’t make it back to their ship in time. Tiramex knew that more of his allies were awaiting them at their next stop, offering another shuttle to their ship, but even so it was now a race to see who could escape who.

Those in positions of power still loyal to the Praetor and who had no knowledge of her kidnapping, thanks to their plant within the reporting department, would be none the wiser and make no moves against them. But only for so long as those who’d survived this violent escape would be now using their personal communication systems to reach out from the Citadel to alert the authorities.

If they managed to get back to their ship and likewise make it off the planet, Tiramex knew their faction had enough vessels deployed to offer further support to the Star Fleeters as they made their run for the border. But that could and would only happen IF they made it off-planet, and there was still a lot of ground and sky to cover before that became a reality.

[ Captain Jien Ives | Allegient | Undisclosed Hidey Hole | Romulus ]

He hated the quiet that'd ruled supreme on the ship ever since they'd landed and the teams had gone off on their missions. It'd haunted the ship in between the scattered reports and even now seemed deafening as they waited for a status update on the extraction of their people. The last he'd heard, contact had been made between their new--potential--allies working with Senator tr’Rehu but that'd been nearly half an hour ago and Jien knew very well much could happen in that time.

As if summoned by thought, Jien jerked forward in his seat when he saw his console light up, a message patched through from the communications officer.

[ Arriving via shuttle in five minutes. Authorities alerted. Leave immediately. ]

Jien pushed out of his chair, quickly making his way to the bridge. "Ensign!" Jien called out as he entered. "Prepare the ship for departure. Our people on their way back, and they've got unfriendlies on their tail."

"Yessir!"

Sinking into the captain's chair, Jien took a steadying breath as his crew followed orders. At least they wouldn't have to wait in silence any longer. No doubt, before long, he'd likely almost long for the peace of the silence as they fled back to the Triangle. It wasn't his first "fight to freedom," and it was quite likely not going to be his last. There was too much at stake to waste mental space on envisioning capture and defeat. The fate of the Federation was once more teetering on the edge of a sword and their success in this mission was vital for its survival.

"Captain, a shuttle is approaching." There was a pause before a tense follow-up. "With two ground vehicles following firing weapons."

Jien nodded. Just as he'd expected, this was NOT going to be an easy escape. But then again, it never was.

FIN

In future posts during the battle threads or during the Interregnum, writers can recall what they did and how they got out during this escape, but for the sake of wrapping up and moving on, this broadstroke post closes down this thread. If writers wish to continue detailing the escape in " real time, " they can do so in further supplemental or one-shots with just the few writers involved. Otherwise, consider this the end of this thread. The dead female is Cir'Cie. Cheers!

Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: EP 2 BTS | D02 | 2300 hrs] Turning Into the Wind

Last post by Krajin - March 06, 2025, 12:57:13 PM

[
Dominic Winters | Flight Deck | Fighter Bay | Deck 16 | U.S.S Theurgy ATTN:@rae @Pierce @Dumedion @Stegro88 @Havenborn @Eden @Krajin @Tae @P.C. Haring @ob2lander961 @Dree @Ellen Fitz

Dominic helped lift and load some of the heavy ordinance into Wolf 10 as part of the last round of bits needing to be done to his craft, having suffered less damage than most, aside from the ablative sheet needing to be replaced. The big-arse Kzint moved with some surprising dexterity as he shifted around and helped the crew, following directions while others rushed off to do other jobs elsewhere. All he had to do was hold this, that or lift a thing.

[Inbound enemy contacts bearing 0-5-2, mark 0-2-3, range fifty thousand kilometers! Wolf Squadron to your spacecraft!] That’s the call! Finishing with the last task he headed up to his cockpit and climbed right on in. His hefty bulk settled into that incredibly comfortable chair, and the big man slipped on his helmet. He sucked in his breath, counted to three, and then exhaled before he began his pre-flight checks. The first of all little customizations that everyone does to their fighters, Dom slipped a small photo out from a pouch of his Father and Mother and slipped it onto a spot where it would not be in the way but still sat in his vision.

Today we are the damned. His ears and tail both twitched as a degree of excitement welled up from deep down. Dominic wanted this fight, no not wanted.. needed it. "Wolf-10, All preflights checked. Ready for final clearance to launch."

He glanced out of the cockpit towards the various officers and crew milling about, wondering who of this he would get to see when all is said and done. Lok was handling himself pretty well for being under pressure and assuming the role of deck chief. He knew his fellow Kzint would come out of this safe and sound.

Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / EP 2 S: [D3 | 0015hrs] If You Want Blood, You Got It

Last post by Dumedion - March 02, 2025, 07:25:11 PM

[Jaeih T’haelaa | Corridor | Deck 6 | The Helmet] Attn: @RyeTanker @Ellen Fitz @Brutus

The former sentinel avoided the distractions of the battle raging beyond the viewports; there were elements in motion now that required her attention. Even as she walked at full stride, Jaeih’s mind churned at the implications and consequences of the few choices she had left, given the circumstances at hand.

Time, it seems, has run its course, the Romulan admitted to herself, pulling the hood free from her head to reveal the stark white drape of hair. In the next stride, the outer robes fell from muscled shoulders to the carpeted floor while she pulled the sword concealed from the scabbard between her shoulder blades with effortless grace – the steel, no longer than her arm, held a recurved edge and gleamed in the red-tinted gloom of combat lighting. The blade had a name, like all weapons should; it was etched into blood channels along its length – V’ale, in the nearly forgotten tongue of Jaeih’s ancestors – a name her more ‘modern’ kin would misinterpret as simply Truth.

Nothing is ever simple, Jaeih allowed herself a rare smile, only the barest curl of her lips. Word had finally reached her of the Praetor’s demise. Phase one, it seemed, had been accomplished, now the final act dawned: for the benefit of all Romulans, they could not trade one dictator for another – certainly not one as power hungry and arrogant as the upstart ‘Empress’ Donatra.

And now, the masks slip free, the sentinel exhaled quietly, features set in determination. By her own actions, Jaeih had aided Donatra in neutering the internal sensors and sowing confusion during the various incursion attempts by the Empress' and the Praetor's agents thus far; a necessary evil to assure the would-be monarch’s trust and confidence, as well as a means to an end, to see where the chips would fall. Now, we enter the endgame.

She turned a corner and the blade in her hand slashed the empty air in a flurry of blurred motion; emerald blood sprayed in an arc, jetted from seemingly nothing, painting the wall and viewport in gore. The hidden Tal’Shiar agent’s cloak-suit failed as it slumped with a wet gurgle, collapsing to his knees. Jaeih took a second to impale her blade into the wall as the man died, then casually lifted the disruptor pistol from his body, and loosed three shots into the wall behind her. Cold eyes returned to the body; this one had been one of Donatra's, and thus, one of Jaeih's. She had tracked his progress meticulously, and applauded his skillful execution; now he would serve a new purpose in death.

Surely that will bring someone along, the Sentinel nodded, tossing the weapon to the floor.

[PO2 Kino Jeen | Moving between decks 5/6 | The Helmet]

They’d materialized moments earlier and hit the deck running, as the saying went; Kino on point, followed close by Hirek, while Falvar and Agans fanned out on either side. The ship was taking a beating around them as they moved – if the constant rumble and shakes meant anything, not to mention the power fluctuations, or the fact that every time Kino glanced outside there seemed to be a constant lightshow on display. Not the nice ones either, like the one I planned for Red’s birthday, Jeen frowned to herself at the insanity taking place outside. Win or lose, whatever happens today will go down in history as a very bad day.

A ping on her wrist-PADD prompted a data feed spike into her helm display, as SecOps uploaded sensor data. Kino blink-clicked an acknowledgment. “Contact, weapons fire ahead, next junction,” she alerted her team and lengthened her stride in the same instant. “Eyes up."

Kino’s rifle moved in perfect synchronicity with her eye as they moved to intercept; at the corner junction she paused, checked her corners, pivoted, and locked in on a lone figure at the end of the hall. A female, tall, white hair: she stood with her back to Kino, next to a prone body on the deck. Damn, that’s a big bitch, Jeen’s brow twitched.

“Security – hands spread in the air, now,” Kino commanded.

The figure complied, slow and deliberate.

“Slowly turn,” Kino commanded, taking equally slow steps towards the woman. "Take three steps towards me."

The figure complied, revealing a surprisingly dark skinned, green eyed Romulan, dressed in form fitting leather attire of unremarkable quality. Jeen saw no visible weapons, other than the length of a blade impaled into the wall and the side arm near her feet. The Romulan seemed almost…bored.

“You took your time,” the Romulan spoke in oddly accented Federation standard, then gestured to the body with a twitch of her hand. “As you can see, you have a serious problem. One I am obliged to assist with, for the greater good of my people.”

“Is that a fact,” Kino snorted, clamping her rifle to her chest as her team closed in. “I’m sure they’ll wanna hear all about it in the brig, lady,” the Trill smirked behind her helm as she fished out a set of binders.

The Romulans eyes flicked between the four of them, then settled back on Kino. “You may call me Jaeih, and if you wish to prevent more bloodshed, you will listen. Right now, there is an effort underway to neutralize your greatest asset – that abomination you name Thea,” her white hair swayed as the Romulan shook her head. “This is a ruse.”

Kino’s head tilted as the Trill shrugged her armored shoulders. “Okay biggums, color me curious: you can talk while we walk.”

The Romulan opened her mouth to speak, but the entire ship shook under one of the worst barrages yet; sparks flew from the walls and ceiling as EPS conduits shorted or overloaded – lights flickered, failed. Everything tumbled into chaos, as the world tumbled. Pressure flared and died as Jeen was tossed from deck to wall back to deck, then something was pulling her backwards at an insane velocity.

Hull breach, she knew, instinctively.

The next second, Kino was pulling herself up to a knee, trying to shake the disorientation away as she called out for her team and visually checked for everyone. The corridor behind them ended in a jagged gash of twisted metal, folded in melted composite metal. Behind a shimmer of a force field, the battle raged on in the void. Fuck, Kino blinked, then prepped to hail SecOps to report the situation, watching as Hirek moved to assist the other Romulan to her feet while Agans and Falvar recovered.

“New plan, start talking,” Jeen told her.

Jaeih grunted something between a laugh and a snort as she regained her feet. “A multi-pronged assault is underway. Without, within,” she nodded to the void, then to the deck. “To sow confusion, to distract. Even I don’t know where all our people are, or where they intend to strike, but I assure you this: Thea would already be dealt with if it were possible.”

Kino stood, giving Agans a hand up with a grunt then gestured to Hirek. “Yall certainly are full of yourselves, I’ll give you that,” she snipped, then addressed Jaeih with a jab of her finger. “Nice story lady, but that’s nothing we don’t already know. C’mon, we got a nice hole for you to sit in for awhile.”

The sentinel moved in a blur of motion, and before Kino could react, Hirek’s bulk was colliding with her in a crash of armored limbs. The momentum carried them both to the deck in a heap, while Jeen cursed and struggled to push him off of her. Too little, too late; Jaeih, the former sentinel, stood above them both, blade angled down at their heads while the disruptor pistol was raised to cover Agans and Falvar.

“I need you to pay attention, Starfleet. I am not your enemy. Your enemy is moving to strike at the head and heart of this ship as we speak. Do you understand me?”

OOC - have fun, sow chaos. (dont kill Jaeih, pls - im saving her for some fun later, lol)

Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: Ep. 2: S [Day 02 | 1743 hrs] Lay Down Your Burdens

Last post by joshs1000 - February 26, 2025, 05:50:12 AM

Cmdr. (3rd) Hassar al-Zaheer | Observation Lounge 4 | Deck 15 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @chXinya
[Show/Hide]

The Andorian accepted Hassar’s offer to enter, the room plunged back into the barely lit darkness as the doors swished closed behind the man. Hassar turned back towards the large window, with somebody present it would be difficult for him to properly focus on his meditation, so he just looked back out at the stars. Not that he couldn’t do it around others, but there was a certain discomfort he found meditating around aliens, they always wanted to stare or ask questions, perhaps even silently judge. There was also just the added fact that to Hassar this part of his spirituality he always preferred to keep private, a way to truly help expand his mind without the worry of someone else in the room. Granted he should have locked the door to the observation lounge if he truly wanted privacy; spirits liked to silently whisper in the ears of those most in touch with their world, perhaps one convinced Hassar to leave it unlocked so he could have a bit of company.

As he mused on this, the Andorian explained that he was putting up some sort of sensor for some reason, one of the words did not translate; collimation. He just nodded and in his deep voice with a strong Middle Eastern sounding accent, he responded in a neutral tone, “No concerns from me, I wouldn’t wish to keep you from your duties.”

He once again went back to silently staring out the window as the Andorian moved off to his left to attach his device to the frame with some clicks followed by a few beeps when the device activated. Silence followed once more but Hassar could sense the blue man’s eyes upon him even in the near darkness. The silence was broken when the question of what exactly he was looking for among the stars came up. Hassar looked up to the standing Andorian, nothing but a dark silhouette apart from the bit of backlighting of long wavy hair. Hassar chuckled and shook his head, “No, nothing in particular, I’m not very well versed on the stars, I could look at hundreds of them and swear each one was Kyrofala, the star of my home world…I prefer just to sit and appreciate their beauty.”

He paused for a moment then added, “When I was a child, I never saw the stars for well over a decade…there were no windows on the ship we lived on…now though I try to look upon them every chance I get.”

Suddenly the stars were replaced with streaks of white and blue light, bathing the lounge in it and fully revealing the two occupants. If Hassar recalled correctly the light was some sort of ionization of either space dust or gas as it struck the energetic warp field.* Fun while it lasted, Hassar thought to himself while shaking his head, there was no way of knowing exactly how long the light show would last, hopefully it hadn’t ruined whatever the Andorian, which with the room illuminated, Hassar could see was part of the Starfleet science division, was working on. Though that wasn’t all Hassar had noticed about him, now in the proper light the fully handsomeness of this Andorian filled his gaze, and handsome was not something he threw around lightly when it came to aliens. This one had several features any Vaharran would swoon over, a strong chin, large perky lips, a handsomely sculpted nose, and piercing eyes of blue. For Hassar’s own personal tastes he also found the thick white eyebrows appealing and he could help but try to get a better look at the antennae more closely as his curiosity piqued.

Hassar realized he was staring and quickly turned away and cleared his throat. With a bit of an exaggerated sigh he got to his feet and remarked, “Well I guess that’s the end of that for the moment…hopefully your experiment wasn’t ruined.”

Hassar himself was no slouch in the looks department either, at least he thought so anyway; once fully on his feet he stood a few centimeters taller than the Andorian, minus the antennae, though he certainly was a lot bulkier with his powerful muscular build. At a glance one might mistake him for a Klingon due to his cranial ridges but the pointed ears and greenish brown skin dispelled that notion, another notable feature was that his ridges, in reality super hard armor plates, extended down his spin and also appeared in the area of his sternum adding a bit of unique contours to his already well contoured body. He had some body hair though it was notably thin and surprisingly soft as well as his jet black beard which he kept well groomed, beyond that he had no other hair on his body, well that the Andorian would have been able to see.

With a stretch and a crack of his neck, Hassar moved back to take a seat on the couch that had his gear. He stole another quick glance at his handsome companion before removing some folded up papers from a duffle bag and a pen. Unlike Starfleet they still had physical paperwork to do, in this case Hassar had been given a final inventory of all the equipment his marines had brought on board, something that he needed to review then file away later. However, as much as he tried, he could not help but feel his curiosity taking hold.

Finally he just kind of blurts out, “So do you hear with those also or do they sense other things?”

OOC Note-
*This is just my head cannon for why sometimes in Trek their are just the star streaks and others why there is sometimes the Star Warsesque hyper-space thing going on.

Interregnum 01-02 S2 / Re: Day 15 [0823 hrs] Starships Aplenty

Last post by tongieboi - February 24, 2025, 08:00:07 PM

[ Ensign Joseph Adams |Holodeck 03 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @Pierce ]

Again, he fidgeted slightly, spinning the chair from left to right slightly. Port and Starboard, he reminded himself before stopping his motions, savouring the unfamiliar idea of command for a little while longer.

"Glad to hear you've got faith in me. I shall do my best to sit in this chair and boss people around."

He replied, a slight grin as he flexed his fingers against the ends of the armrests and sat up in the seat a little more. Nodding in response to her question, he waited for the familiar jolt indicating the starship had begun to move.

"Memory Lane it is."

A pause. He didn't have a particular phrase to make the crew and ship go. Only actual Captains had those. He hadn't given it much thought. Keeping his mouth shut, he just made a vague gesture forwards, certain Lauren would get the gist.

As far as Enterprise Captains went, he still had plenty of work to do in the charisma department, it felt to him.

Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: Epi 2 S [D02| 1900] The Ravaged Prisoners of War

Last post by Dree - February 24, 2025, 05:10:55 AM

[Ensign Sash Kreshkova | Primary Care unit | Main Sickbay | Deck 11 | Vector 2] @Dumedion @Ellen Fitz

As the scream ripped through her lungs, Sasch’s arms started flailing around looking for something of which to take hold. Her eyes were working, but didn’t seem to be connected to what her arms were doing, but once they felt human arms, the scream died on her lips, and her eyes were able to focus on the face in front of her. The head of a wolf on the body of a woman didn’t seem to upset her in the least. In some ways, it was eerily comforting. The rhythmic chanting also felt familiar.

But her ease was suddenly interrupted as another person came into view. He was a very tall, Asian-looking Trill. If Sasch saw the Starfleet uniform, it didn’t register with her, and she tried to use her feet to scoot herself away from him, but her momentary strength had evaporated all but leaving her limp.

“My name is Arven, this is the Theurgy,” he explained over the wolf-lady’s quiet chanting. “I’m here to help you. Is it all right if I run a scan,” he asked, even as he was already passing a tricorder over both. “I need you to return to bed please,” he added to the chanter quietly. “What are your names? Does any place hurt more than anywhere else?”

He asked about their names….Everything in her head felt disjointed. She knew her name. She did…what was it? Before she could gather her thoughts and figure things out, “Sasch,” fell from her lips. She hadn’t expected the words, but as they escaped her mouth, memories came flooding back. “Kreshkova.” As she said her name, she realized that the man in front of her was in a Starfleet uniform. She felt less apprehensive - though not yet relaxed - at that awareness. “Ensign Sashenka Kreshkova. I vas assigned to TacConn.”

The more she talked, the more her situation struck her. “My parents…You need to let my parents know I am alive. Admiral Kreshkova….please!” She managed to barely push herself up onto her elbows only for a second before she collapsed back onto the biobed nearly gasping for breath. There were too many things going through her mind. She … Ehfva … they had made it. They had been rescued. But her parents had to be in turmoil of the worst kind. She had been kidnapped, rescued, and overtaken by their nefarious captures. Her parents had no way of knowing she was alive.

But as her mental faculties had returned to her, she became very aware of how much she hurt, and she groaned loudly, closing her eyes against the pain. “I hurt … all over,” she barely managed. “I do not know exactly vhat zhey did to me.” As she spoke, she realized that she had seen Ehfva, and her eyes swept around until they found the Vulpinian. “Vhat zhey did to us. Ve vere two of zhe last vones left.”

Sasch took note that Ehfva was still caught between forms, but the pilot could see the care that the Vulpinian had for her. She knew that without her companion, she never would have made it through their ordeal.

Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: Topic: Ch 3 : The Hunt is On [ Day 1 | 1530+]

Last post by Nesota Kynnovan - February 24, 2025, 12:20:23 AM

[Ensign Jaya Thorne | Hallway | Deck 04 | Vector 01]
[OOC: Tag: @Eirual @Brutus]

Ensign Jaya Thorne was not the kind of person who was easy to scare but, in this particular case, the Assistant Chief CONN Officer found it particularly difficult to stay calm. As her brown eyes scanned the dark hallway, which was periodically illuminated by the flickering lights just enough to mess up her night vision, the Denevan knew that they were at an incredible disadvantage; whoever (or whatever) was out there in the hallway was likely aware of their presence and had not only the defensive advantage but also the choice of when to engage them. Those were only the advantages Jaya could think of at that moment and only one glance at the deceased Lieutenant Commander Kai Akoni, whom had been a trained and highly decorated Security Officer, was enough to convince her that their enemy had plenty of other tricks which she couldn’t even think of. Every instinct Jaya possessed screamed at her to run, that she couldn’t possibly hope to succeed where the burly Chief Security Officer had failed, but she knew she couldn’t.

All it took was one look at Kelistina to realize that running away would mean abandoning the Zaroodian to her fate, and the only outcome would be that the red-skinned woman would get killed by whoever was out there. Jaya listened to the words of the woman and took a couple of deep breaths to regain her composure before nodding. If they were to stick together, at the very least they would be able to watch each other’s backs and stand a fighting chance. ”I already triggered the intruder alarm, so Security is en-route.” As she spoke, she lowered her voice to a mere whisper so only Kelistina would be able to hear it. ”Let’s go, we might find other people in need of help.”

With those words, Jaya began to sneak forward. While she was scared, the Denevan knew that they would stand a better chance if they were to keep moving; if they would stay near the body of Lieutenant Commander Akoni, they would only make themselves a stationary target and become much more vulnerable in the process. And thus, she slowly began to move, making sure not to make any noise in the process.

It would prove to be a good idea too because, if Jaya had moved at a regular or even slightly faster pace, she might have completely missed the flickering reflection in the corner of her eye. ”Kel!” While her voice was still a whisper, there was an urgency to it when she held up her hand and crouched down near the green blood that had drawn her attention. The blood was still fresh, slowly dripping down the hatch of the Jefferies Tube and reflecting the light of the hallway. ”Look, the blood is still fresh.”

The first thought that crossed the Denevan’s mind was that this could be an ambush, an elaborate attempt to get them to lower their guard, and Jaya’s brown eyes flashed around the dark hallway in a way that must have looked ridiculous and paranoid to Kelistina or any other onlookers. When nothing happened for several seconds however, Jaya took a deep breath to calm herself down and turned her attention to the hatch once more. It was one of the entrances to a vertical Jefferies Tube that ran all the way up to Deck 02 and the Assistant Chief CONN Officer had been about to disregard it and signal for Kelistina to keep moving when the thought struck her.

”Hey Kel…” When she spoke up once more, her voice was just a little louder than a mere whisper as she voiced her thoughts out loud. ”If someone triggers an intruder alert, all nearby Security Officers are sent to the location of the alert, right?” She turned her brown eyes to the other woman in the hopes that her thought process held water. ”Security Officers shift their priorities accordingly and zone in on the threat.” Jaya tried to remember if there was anything of value on the two decks above them. Due to security reasons, the Jefferies Tube didn’t run all the way to Deck 01 so whoever (or whatever) had killed Kai Akoni couldn’t be headed for the Main Bridge, and the only things of real value on the decks above was the Primary Computer Core.

And at that moment, Jaya realized. ”Kel!” As Jaya’s brown eyes widened out of sheer shock, she gestured towards the Jefferies Tube and spoke up on a normal volume; now knowing that the enemy wasn’t waiting to ambush them. ”It’s Thea. They are going after the Positronic AI Brain Core.” While speaking, Jaya stood up and began to insert her command codes into the access panel of the Jefferies Tube. It took her a while to open it, given how her own intruder alert had locked out the entrances to the Jefferies Tubes so any potential intruder wouldn’t be able to escape, and in the meantime she tried to convince Kelistina of her logic. ”Think about it, if they destroy the Positronic AI Brain Core, they’ll kill Thea and cripple the entire ship in the process. With Security scrambling to our location, the Core itself is vulnerable!”

Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: Epi 2 [ D02 | 2300 hrs.] All Squared up at the Triangle

Last post by Krajin - February 23, 2025, 01:12:24 PM

[ Dominic Winters | Flight Deck | Fighter Bay | Deck 16 | USS Theurgy ATTN: All Active Writers

Dominic had been one of the first pilots to land in the bay and have Wolf-10 put off to the side for the basic repairs it needed. Compared to the others who likely had taken far more damage due to the battle that they had endured. Between Warbirds, Cloaked Fighters and Carriers, it had been a hellish time up until they could get to a safe point and land on the rather damaged landing bay of the Hangar. Luckily, Dom had experience in landing in places that did not have tractor emitters or had undergone such damage. It took careful piloting and communication with the ground crew to get into a position they wanted him in. When he disembarked out from his fighter, Dominic took note of the hectic bay, Wolf-10’s landing site was more of a wreck since it was near the ruined Lockers of the deck crew.

Once landed, he spied Lok somewhere amidst the chaos where he looked to be directing people this way and that. Atlas left him to his devices rather than bother the current ground chief as he certainly had a lot to do. Atlas moved off first to relieve some pressure that his body reminded him of existing before heading into the pilot’s lounge. He always functioned better under such stressful times as there was something to focus on. It was after all what he was built for. He inclined his head quietly to Shadow as he passed her in there, every footfall of his quiet, accentuated only by the quiet whirr of his suit’s immense frame. He replicated a snack, a small plate of snacks, and a drink before slinking off to a corner to eat in silence.

Atlas didn’t need sleep, rest yes but sleep? Nah. Even during the Dominion War he never slowed down. Always going, always willing to push it. It was after all why he got called Atlas, the Greek god of strength and endurance. He who was tasked eternally to carry the heavens. He would shoulder the team as best he could when the others needed rest and recovery. Atlas would cover for them.

This felt like an endless war for them and that no matter how far they reached for a miracle to end it, the stars just smacked that hand down once more. Was this what Theurgy had to deal with on the daily? A constant run from one fight to the next like the Thunderball in the Dominion War? He sucked in some air through his nostrils which closed for a moment before he relaxed and exhaled out.

As he finished off his snack and drink, Atlas sat in dead silence as his mind raced on the possibilities of the coming fights. They were the lost and the damned of the Federation, its hero and villain. He wondered if these people would be welcome back into the Federation after all or would they pay the price for it all? He glanced over towards his fellow pilots before getting up, setting his empty plate and cup in the replicator to be processed, and headed out.

It was moments later he had caught Lok pulling a sneak into the locker rooms and had a small talk, at the very least with the overwhelmed Kzint and encouraged him back to it with a bit of better energy behind him.

As Dom got himself situated after with his head resting against his locker, he heard the call for pilots to scramble, affixed his helmet and booked it out to the bay for the next round! Seemingly eager to pound it out with some dirty Romulans!

Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Chapter 1: Not So Safe At Home [D3 00:10]

Last post by P.C. Haring - February 21, 2025, 04:11:36 AM

[Kestra Pren & Samala | Apache | Triangle Battle Zone] Attn: @Ellen Fitz‍ @Dree‍ @Stegro88‍ @Number6‍ @RyeTanker‍ @Hans Applegate‍ @Sqweloookle‍

Kestra did not need ship’s sensors, or a view out into space to know just how in the shit they were. She did not need to feel the inertial dampeners struggle to keep up as the Apache executed it’s evasive maneuvers. No the shuddering of the ship, the blown out conduits and the screaming of the wounded as the ship lurched in one direction and then the next did more than enough to tell her just how fucked they were. She’d had a bit of time to familiarize herself with the ship while it traveled from the Romulan station, and she knew it’s weapons and defensive systems were decent for a ship of it’s size. But even so as the battle raged on, there was only so much a small craft could take. At least the stolen Romulan runabout had a cloak so Cheung and the rest of the group from the Mary Baldwin could remain safe if they so desired.

The deck rocked again and she stumbled and would have stumbled but for the crowd of people packed in. More cries from the aft section rang out from the wounded and she felt the ship shudder in such a way that usually meant an engine was struggling. Deciding she had waited long enough, she took matters into her own hands and began pushing herself through the crowd making her way to the forward cockpit.

“Report,” she demanded as she entered.

The pilot didn’t turn to look at her, his attention too focused on their controls.

“We’re full evasive, Lieutenant. The Romulans keep sending stalkers after us but we’re out maneuvering them. Even so…” The deck rocked again as they took another hit. “It’ll only be a matter of time. Already our shields are down to fifty percent.”

“Land us, then!”

“Can’t. Theurgy’s cleared the approach vectors for Lone Wolf squadron and they won’t clear us to approach.”

Goddamnit. This Reman crate was about to go up, and combat priority of Theurgy’s fighter squadron took priority. Reggie Suder was out there, she knew and it tore at her to know there was a chance she’d never get the opportunity to meet her. To hell with that, she decided.

“I’m taking command. Hail…”

"The stars you are," Samala said aggressively as she charged back into the cockpit. "This is my ship."

Kestra turned on a heel as she heard the voice from behind and came face to face with an angry looking Romulan in a Starfleet uniform. The woman stood equal to her height and probably damn close in weight too. A quick second look and she realized the woman wasn't entirely Romulan, though she couldn't immediately identify why she believed that. Regardless, none of that mattered. If the non-comm in front of her thought she was going to pull rank on her, she had another thing coming.

"Excuse me, Crewman, did you mean to say something to me," she asked, allowing the disdain to drip into her voice.

Samala cocked her head to the side, trying to decide how best to deal with the fool in front of her. Her hand twitched slightly, her first reaction to draw her blade and end the woman in front of her. But she held her stance, and tried words instead.

"If you are having trouble hearing ma'am," She said mildly, "Might I suggest seeing the medics in the hold. Hearing loss can be a symptom of many different mental issues."

She moved past the spotted woman and into the pilot's seat that the current occupant vacated for her.

Ohhh how the insubordination chafed at her. Instinct drove her to continue chewing out this arrogant Romulan but as the deck of the Apache rocked again under Romulan disruptor fire and she realized she had much more important issues at hand.

"Crewman, we will discuss your attitude in much greater depth when this crisis is over. In the mean time, get this ship on the deck, NOW."

"If you are anxious to die ma'am, I'll open the airlock for you myself," Samala shot back without looking, working on some screens, adjusting the Apache's systems.

"You heard what was said, they haven't cleared us to approach and I am not taking the reaming from Lillee about breaking protocols."

Kestra didn't know who this Lillee was but she understood that she might be ordering this crewman to break the orders of another superior officer. Having been in that position before, she was sympathetic, though the attitude still needed to be checked. The pilot also had a fair point that they weren't cleared. Even so there were critically wounded back there.

"Fuck the clearance and fuck this Lillee of yours. We have people dying back there and I'm not going to sit around and let it happen. Are you?" She paused as the ideas came to her. "Now if you want to keep throwing that attitude of yours around, we can argue until your brethren blow us out of the sky. But if you want to blow that attitude out the airlock you seem keen on using, and help me to help the injured back there, I'll be more than happy to take the heat from your superiors for the break in protocol..."

Another rocking from weapons fire cut her off, and the corridors echoed with more screaming.

"What will it be? Fuck around and find out? Or save lives?”

Samala's hand twitched again, the call of the blade growing louder in her mind. But she ignored it as she focused on the rest of what the officer had said.

"Don't ever call me Romulan," Samala seethed, baring her fangs. "How do you plan on getting aboard? In case you haven't noticed, we're damaged, and you want us to fly TOWARDS the largest target in the vicinity, in the one ship guaranteed to piss of the Romulans more than the Theurgy. I love my brother and want him to get help but he wouldn't want me to die trying to save him."

So. She had a brother. On this ship. Interesting. That gave her a reason to try. She just needed to believe it could work.

"I have no intention of dying, Crewman. I just happen to have a few tactical tricks up my sleeve."

She turned to the engineering station which was occupied by another crewman who had remained silent through most of it.

"Out."

He obliged her and she took the now vacant seat. Her hands went to start keying commands but stopped short when she realized the console was in Reman. Then it clicked.

"You're part Reman, aren't you? Whats your name, Crewman?"

Samala had to fight to hold back the laugh. She still hadn't got the ship's systems to stop defaulting back to Reman when someone left the console.

"Hit the glyph in the top right. That will change the display for you," Samala instructed, smiling. "My name is Samala, and I'm all Reman, Thank you."

Kestra found the icon Samala had described and keyed it. Almost instantly the settings came up and she selected the setting closest to Federation standard. It struck her as odd that she had described herself as 'all Reman'. It didn't take a medical scan to tell someone that she was at least half Romulan genetically. But she had learned a while ago not to judge what was in someone's heart.

"Kestra Pren," she said by way of introduction. "All Trill." She paused as she set up the configuration she needed. "I've seen Remans in action. During the War. They were ruthless and efficient. Stood toe to toe with the Jem'Hadar and came out on top every time. It doesn't surprise me in the least that you have no love of the Romulans knowing what they did to your people."

She paused as she finished her configurations.

"So I think I'm safe in assuming that you don't want to die out here at their hands. I have a plan that gives us a chance, but I can't do it alone. I'll need your help and we'll have to work together as a team. So what do you say? Can you help me by matching course and speed with Theurgy and keeping us within one kilometer directly aft? Or do you want to kick me out and leave our fate in the hands of the Romulans?"

Another jolt shook the Apache, this one the most violent of all. The sounds of a console overload on one of the rear compartments echoed as the smell of acrid smoke curled her nose. On her screen an alert popped on her screen.

"Whatever decision you make, you don't have much time. That last hit took our shields down to fifteen percent. We won't survive another strike like that."

So this post was originally intended to put all of the chapter 1 characters, but @Stegro88‍ and I talked and we decided to do a quasi joint post to get the deed done. Feel free to post what your character is up to while Kestra and Samala debate whose is bigger.