Star Trek: Theurgy

Day 30 [0900 hrs.] Diplomatic Council

May 29, 2020, 11:44:49 AM

[ Lt. Cmdr. Rutherford | Flag Bridge / Diplomatic Council | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @Number6 , @Brutus , @Fife , @steelphoenix
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Samantha had been at the former flag bridge once before, struck by the new car smell of the recent renovation. Flushed with a comforting sense of pride at being given such an iconic and important location to conduct her department from. And just as it had, when she’d first entered the round-shaped room a couple of days ago, it now still reminded her of the Federation council chamber in Paris, where she interned as a young adult. Albeit a good deal smaller but with the same dignified, modern and clean interior. No art, no personal touch, no distinctive color scheme that could offend anyone.

Noticing the Vulcan-borg Assistant Chief in the room the officer smiled pleasantly as she approached him, one arm clasped around a large PADD to her chest. She was a little bit early so it made sense that not everyone was here yet. Foval had been kind enough to organize the first staff meeting / introductions for her. "Dif-tor heh smusma." The ¼ Vulcan greeted the blonde man with a reverent nod. The salute would’ve been a little bit over the top considering she was mostly human. Regardless of that fact, however, she appreciated to have a Vulcan on the corps. Even more so one that brought the additional intrigue of being a former Borg drone.

“Thank you for setting up the meeting.” the blonde offered, making her way around the one desk that was facing towards the center of the room and not away from it like all the others. Setting her PADD and the input-pen down she sat herself on the shiny surface with half her posterior supported. Hands clasped together in her slanting lap. Shaking her side-parted mane back she let blue eyes rest relentlessly on the other man. “Did you settle in alright?” she started out, bridging the short moment up until the rest of the team would arrive. She had also extended an open invitation to Deacon, the proprietor of the lounge, for at least two important reasons. One being that he had previously been a helpful source of information on diplomatic incidents.

Samantha could already tell that Foval, much like the other subordinates she had the pleasure of perusing the personnel files of, would be a valuable asset to the diplomatic cause. A diverse team was vital to a broad approach. And she figured that a former Borg drone could have a rather wide knowledge of different species. At the very least those that had been assimilated before. It was an abundant source of specialized information she was looking forward tapping into. And maybe the emotional aspect of negotiations was something she could help him with in return.

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OOC: This is the thread for the 'Diplomatic Council' story objective. The task is to establish how it's the Department's work place, but also invite potential stakeholders to the coming talks. The Objective is about establishing these relations aboard, and make sure representatives that could aid in future events are mentioned. All diplomatic personnel, current/future/npc are invited to join. At the suggestion of Auctor I also added steelphoenix and the Deacon character for potential future collaborations. Posting order as it happens, I guess lol
Anyone else outside of the aforementioned want to appear, let me know!

Re: Day 30 [0900 hrs.] Diplomatic Council

Reply #1 – May 29, 2020, 11:07:40 PM

[ Lt. J.G Foval | Flag Bridge / Diplomatic Council | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ]

ATTN: @stardust
Foval was impressed with his CO’s of his native tongue use.   It had been some time since he had spoken it.   He mentally corrected himself, the last time he used it was on an ill fated trip to Vulcan shortly have his discharge from Starfleet Medical.   He had taken a handful of heirlooms that had been kept in storage after his “death” and put them in storage in an another facility.   He quickly repressed the memories of that trip.  

His CO’s skill was not exaggerated.   He had read her report file, and was particularly interested in her experience with Romulans.  However, she had the background, even one that he was lacking.  

“Well.” He answered.    “Disregarding my people’s penchant for sparsity, and my own simple recreational interests, for such an isolated vessel, the Theurgy certainly has most of the creature comforts a Starfleet officer should require.”  

He wondered about the civilians on board.   He made a silent note to investigate civilian personnel on the ship more thoroughly.   Last thing he wanted the ships barber to accidentally give someone a mohawk at the sight of his cybernetic appendage.     

He realised they were approaching the part of conversation that many sentients detested – the awkward silence.   He was aware of these before, but now he wagered that a Borg prosthetic and implant made the awkwardness critical.   

“I detected a mild accent in your greeting.   Have you spent time among Vulcans?”  

Re: Day 30 [0900 hrs.] Diplomatic Council

Reply #2 – May 30, 2020, 05:14:13 AM

[ Ens. Faye Lintah Eloi-Danvers | Flag Bridge / Diplomatic Council | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @stardust @Number6 @Fife @steelphoenix 
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Things, had rather abruptly changed two days ago for Ens. Faye Lintah Eloi-Danvers. Not as violently as the last abrupt change in her life, in which the previous diplomatic suite had been vented to the vacuum by a well-placed photon torpedo strike, in the orbit of Jupiter Station. But it was no less of a change for her. For a little over a month, since Faye came out of stasis, she, and she alone, had been the sole diplomat assigned to the Theurgy. Before Jupiter station she had been part of a full detachment - 10 diplomats, officers or otherwise, sent along as part of the mission to Romulus. Theurgy was the first of her class, a multipurpose dreadnought, and thus deserving of a full sized diplomatic mission assigned to it. And out of all of those distinguished officers and civil servants, only one had survived the hull breach that eradicated the team. Only one was left, to represent the ship going forward. 

A hell of a thing to drop onto the shoulders of a young Ensign, early in her career and recovering from traumatic injury.

There had been help. During most of the negotiations with the Aldean's, Faye had been assisted by Lt. Commander Jennifer Dewitt. The latter was not a trained diplomat by profession, but had years of experience to lend to the ships cause. Between her command presence and rank, and Faye's technical acumen and diplomatic pedigree, they had served the Theurgy well, and helped smooth many of the trouble waters that arouse in the wake of the ships unexpected arrival in the Aldean sector after  its flight through a collapsing transwarp hub. She had done well for herself, and felt no small amount of pride. 

And then a plethora of new diplomats arrived aboard a Klingon cruiser, of all things. One of which, regrettably, Faye knew already. She was suddenly going from carrying the whole weight of the department (of one) and the ships mission on her slender shoulders to...just another Attache? To call it an adjustment was an understatement. 

In truth, she missed the quarters that she had appropriated along with the role of acting department head far more than she missed the responsibility. The bed had been massive, and the tub, exquisite. Such indulgences would now require booking either holodeck time, or a trip to the ships public baths down on Deck 6.

With that as her only real regret on the subject, Faye found herself breezing right on into the flag bridge, which had been repurposed for use by the Diplomats assigned to the ship. As she took a look around, she had to admit that it looked considerably more impressive than what she had been used to during the long, fruitless mission to Romulus. She swept her hair around, the dark brunette curls run through with highlighted streaks of blonde today, registering the presence of two others in the suite. Nervousness bloomed, but not all of it, she was pleased to see, was hers. Trained diplomat that she was, the young ensign always took the emotional temperature of any meeting she walked in to. Nothing prying or invasive, just a surface level reading.  

A conversation was already in progress when she arrived, something about Vulcan, she gathered. Fitting, given the obvious heritage of one of the two new officers. For a moment, Faye was struck by the awkwardness of the situation. They were new here. She was the one with the experience in the mission, and with the ship. They both out ranked her. This is going to be right peachy, she thought, another phrase borrowed from her mother. How then, to break the ice? 

"Well I have to say this place looks much better than when I was last here. All the damage is patched and everything. You wouldn't know a fire fight took place in it." Blunt shock trauma would do the job nicely, she decided. She wondered briefly if the two had been brought up to speed on the Savi yet. Ooops. "It's a lot nicer than the old Diplomatic section as well. I'm Ens. Eloi-Danvers, by the way. Welcome to the mad house." 

Re: Day 30 [0900 hrs.] Diplomatic Council

Reply #3 – June 06, 2020, 09:45:19 PM

[ Lt. Cmdr. Rutherford | Flag Bridge / Diplomatic Council | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @Number6 @Brutus @Fife @steelphoenix
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Samantha hadn’t spoken Vulcan in a long time and since she’d only really started learning it, when she was 10 years old, she wasn’t entirely confident in her pronunciation. In her regular line of work the universal translator made the knowledge of alien languages pretty much unnecessary. Yet she had always found it added a certain sense of reverence, addressing a negotiation party in their own tongue. So she had at least acquired a basic level of skill in the major alpha and beta quadrant languages for that very purpose. And she supposed so had Foval – although by other means of assimilation, no pun intended. Undoubtedly the knowledge from his time as a drone would prove a major asset.

“Humans like their diversions.” the blonde replied in good-natured humor. Knowing fair well it was wasted on the Vulcan. “I reckon the Junior Officer’s quarters supply enough private space for meditation.” She didn’t really know – it was not essential knowledge. They surely would appeal to the modesty of a Vulcan, at the very least. Unfortunately, she was ¾ human, so she more than enjoyed the rather spacious quarters of the department heads. In his observation, however, the man was correct … and the officer was intrigued by his skill in picking the tonal variations up so easily.

“My grandfather is Vulcan … I spent about ten years living with him and my grandmother on earth. Can’t say I have talked to many Vulcans since then.” Samantha shrugged lightly, almost disappointed at the revelation. Sure, there were many odd encounters with other Starfleet personnel from Vulcan and one or the other ambassador … but speaking Vulcan was actually never really required. As a matter off act, many Vulcan officials found it rude totally in anything but Federation standard. “Maybe I can get a bit more training in, now that I have someone to talk to.” She smiled kindly, another notion left on the man, though she was still human and these things were a part of her as much as the sometimes logical and emotionless approach she shared with Foval.

The doors slid open and Ensign Danvers came in. Now, for her, the diplomat had a whole lot of respect. The young woman had been the sole (currently active) survivor of the last detachment and for a long time. She had likely been the only true voice of reason along for the voyage since Jupiter. Surely a lot of duties had been imposed on her that shouldn’t have been. It had nothing to do with the higher-ranking officer thinking she wasn’t skilled enough but it had everything to with the responsibility to groom subordinates and not crush them. Of course, the circumstances were extraordinary, and concessions had to be made, certainly. And sometimes emotional health was not as important as physical.

The blonde nodded with a kind smile, still half sitting on the edge of what she had silently marked as her desk. Listening to the younger woman talk, Samantha took a long, close look around the circular room. Everything looked so pristine. “Glad you could join us, Ensign.” she concluded the visual tour. “I am sure the locale will not remain the only thing ‘new’ … that’s why I am here.” the officer responded in a cooler, more matter-of-factly way. Because despite the fact that this was their first meeting to get to know one another, proper hierarchy was a corner stone of Starfleet. Even though she had never led a whole department – and potentially especially because she hadn’t – the blonde felt it necessary to assert the chain of command from the beginning. Not because she thought she was better suited for this particular job than, for example, Faye … but because she thought she had the most experience to channel each and everyone’s valuable input into the best team effort possible.

Over the course of the next few minutes, until the chronometer read 0900 hours, the rest of the diplomatic council gathered around the head-desk between the crescents of workstations. Greeting each and every one personally, the Chief Diplomat took a final look around with a proud smile. It was a great team, after all. “Alright … let’s get started. First off, feel free to jump in at any point, but let’s respect the rules of conduct in doing so.” She nodded for validation before sliding off the desk and crossing her arms behind her back as she walked into the center between everyone.

“I don’t want to waste too much time on introductions as I am fully aware who you are, and I would encourage you – if you haven’t done so already - to peruse my service record just the same. I will not be answering any questions that can be researched or easily deducted, because we also don’t have time for that.” the officer stated, laying the rule-work for their future cooperation. “That being said, I am not here to micromanage you either. You’re all accomplished Starfleet officer with a great deal of diplomatic expertise, and I trust each and everyone one of you to not need me to hold your hand.” she continued, with seriousness and grace, slowly turning, to be able to address each and every one directly, during her speech.

“I am interested in the end results and I do not need to be kept up to date on the minute details of how you’re getting there. However, naturally you will encounter extraordinary circumstances or need advice, and it is my duty just the same to support you if you do. In due time we will figure out together what counts as an extraordinary circumstance and what doesn’t. Secondly, we function as a team. Within these walls you may be judged by your individual work efforts but outside, we all are the diplomatic detachment of this ship, and we will be judged as a whole. So if you do disagree with something that affects the whole team, have the courage to speak up, or suffer the general ramifications with everyone else.”

Concluding with a finalizing nod to the ‘introductions’ portion, Samantha waited a moment for interjections before walking back to the desk. Picking up her PADD and turning to face everyone once more. Leaning against the edge for comfort, the blonde also pulled the input pen back up to check her agenda. “Now, on a more practical note, I’d like to keep the department to a one shift rotation. We will conform to the Beta shift schedule with regular duty from 0800 hours to 1600 hours. Granted, senior members are on call at all hours.” she looked at Foval. An afterthought popping into the blonde officers’ mind she let the tablet tilt against her thighs for a moment. “For those who don’t know yet, Lieutenant Brogan will undergo surgery in the next days and is scheduled to return to duty as Assistant Chief Diplomatic Officer to support me and Lieutenant Foval … questions so far?” It was probably as good a time as any to show a glimmer of her humanity and catch a breath. Sometimes her Vulcan business side came like a wave you couldn’t escape from.

Re: Day 30 [0900 hrs.] Diplomatic Council

Reply #4 – June 08, 2020, 09:08:23 AM

[ Deacon | Flag Bridge / Diplomatic Council | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @Number6  @Brutus  @Fife  @stardust

Just as the chronometer reached 0900, Deacon arrived, a PADD held in his hand, as he stepped out onto the secondary bridge, giving it a curious review as his gaze moved across the faces of those assembled, his glasses placing names to faces to help with his lingering difficulties in discerning one humanoid from the next.  Fortunately, in the past month, with his occasional negotiation with Aldean suppliers, he'd begun to recognize more prominent facial features -- at least in males.  Females were still a challenge... and the preponderance of red haired human females on board seemed particularly vexing, but that was the point of the glasses.

He had been asked to attend this meeting although he was hard pressed to understand why. Some sort of council?  Curious as it seemed contrary to what he had learned of Starfleet, which abided a somewhat more military structure.  But he did not speak as a blond female took the initiative of convening those gathered without a word of introduction -- in fact, several words in testament against introduction.

Deacon furrowed his brow slightly as she spoke.  If not for the glasses identifying her as a Lt. Commander Samantha Rutherford courtesy of a inquiry to Theurgy's personnel database, he wondered how he would ever be expected to know this, let alone plumb the depths of her personnel record.  She continued, describing those assembled as a department with certain expectations that they be forthright amongst themselves, yet unified beyond the confines of this room.  Had he been transferred away from Below Decks, he wondered.  He had done his utmost to remain in the good graces of the captain, going so far as to memorize and adhere to the various regulations Starfleet required for their common areas and nutritional expectations.  He had even gone so far as to supplement his educational regimen by requesting Lt. Cmdr Stark quiz him to ensure his knowledge was sound.

However, he had also offered himself up to support the pride... the crew in any way the captain saw fit, and he had received no reprimand or discipline in his time overseeing the lounge.

"You're all accomplished Starfleet officers with a great deal of diplomatic expertise," she continued.

Wait.  Had she mistaken him for his father?  Deacon had only barely started reviewing his father's own personnel record.  It was challenging as he could not help but think he was reviewing a testament of the dead, and it unnerved him, preventing a comprehensive review. He had mentioned this once or twice in his counseling sessions, and time and again it was presented that either through research or recitation, it was information he needed to know, and the feeling it evoked would likely only dwindle with time and effort.

She then presented a time frame to perform their as-yet-unspecified duties.  0800 to 1600 hours.  Deacon's brows furrowed again.  He worked three shifts as it was, corresponding to the primary meal cycles, how was he to accommodate this?

His gaze moved from one to the next, still uncertain of his purpose here to make a coherent response.

Re: Day 30 [0900 hrs.] Diplomatic Council

Reply #5 – June 08, 2020, 11:55:59 PM

Ensign L'Nari | Flag Bridge/Diplomatic Council | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @stardust @Brutus @steelphoenix @Number6
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L’Nari had arrived for the meeting just in the nick of time, striding through the door and quietly sliding into her seat just as the Lieutenant Commander had begun to speak. The black-furred Caitian glanced about briefly as she listened to Commander Rutherford, taking in the other faces in the room. She pretended not to notice the look Faye gave her as she turned her vivid green eyes back to Rutherford.

The Commander seemed to want to set things straight right off the bat, not bothering with introductions and getting right to the point. L’Nari could certainly work with that, though she hadn’t had a chance to actually look at the Commander’s personnel file yet, have spent the previous eleven days since arriving aboard the Theurgy trying to get caught up on what exactly the ship had been through, as well as avoiding Ensign Eloi-Danvers’ looks and remarks. She made a mental note to read up on their new commanding officer. The idea that Rutherford wasn’t planning on micromanaging them came as a relief, L’Nari having dealt with superiors in the past who liked to read over every piece of information their subordinates had put together, as though suspecting all but themselves of incompetence.

The news that they would be sticking mostly to the Beta shift rotation was welcome, and with the news that one Lieutenant Brogan would be undergoing surgery int eh coming days, Rutherford brought her short, if somewhat forceful, briefing to a halt and asked if there were any questions so far. L’Nari shook her head with a muttered ”No, ma’am.”, glancing around the table to see if anyone else would raise any questions they might have. She took that glance as an opportunity to briefly study her old acquaintance, the tip of her tail flicking beneath her chair in annoyance as she did so. L’Nari and Faye Eloi-Danvers had hardly been what you could call friends during their time at both the Academy and the Diplomatic Annex, and while L’Nari had hoped they might be able to improve things between them when she learned Danvers was aboard the Theurgy, those hopes had since been dashed as the pair seemed to have settled into old habits.

Forcing her gaze away from Faye, L’Nari focused back on Commander Rutherford and the matter at hand.

Their new commanding officer seemed intent on setting down the rules and showing that she was in change, leading L’Nari to wonder if she had, indeed, made a mistake in taking this position. Not that she’d had a great deal of choice in the matter. In any case, a CO who laid out how they expected you to behave wasn’t the worst thing she could be dealing with, since at least is seemed that Rutherford would make it clear where you stood with her. L’Nari also found herself wondering exactly what she and Faye would be kept busy with in the coming days, as two Ensign Attachés assigned to the Chief Diplomatic Officer and two Lieutenant Assistance Chiefs would likely be kept rather busy.

Casting her bright green gaze at Lt. Foval, L’Nari found herself wondering exactly how an ex-Borg had come to join the Diplomatic section, the Caitian silently musing over the question of his prosthetics and whether they would be a help or hinderance in the course of diplomatic work.

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OOC: I'm sorry for the long delay in posting in this thread. Things have been hectic IRL, and I'm just now getting caught up!

Re: Day 30 [0900 hrs.] Diplomatic Council

Reply #6 – June 09, 2020, 06:16:32 PM

[ Ens. Faye Lintah Eloi-Danvers | Flag Bridge / Diplomatic Council | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @stardust @Number6 @Fife @steelphoenix @Jesse  
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First impressions were important, and so far her new boss - the whole department's new boss - seemed kind enough. Faye knew that she could dig a little and get a better feel for the blonde Lieutenant Commander, but she felt no real need to do so. The file she'd been pursing would be more than enough, and she liked her first impressions to be unimpeded by stray mental perceptions and observations. The younger diplomat found it cute that the new addition was wrapping herself up in the cold cloak of the chain of command. Cute and if she were honest with herself, a little reassuring. "I'm sure that I'll adjust, ma'am. In perfect honesty, it's going to be nice to have some people to fall back on for support. Please do let me know if you find a need for a longer in depth briefing than the files submitted. That goes for you too, sir," Faye added to the other new addition, again sweeping her gaze over the Vulcan.

A phantom pain flared in her own artificial left arm, one of pure sympathy for the man standing across from the new Department Head. Faye knew considerably less about the new Assistant Chief than she did the new Chief, having not given his file more than a very cursory over view while settling into her new - new - new quarters (and wondering how many officer changed their room assignment three times in a little over a month). All the same, she had lost her left arm to the assault on the Theurgy at Jupiter station that had wiped out her entire department. It seemed he had lost his to the Borg, and she could only wonder at the logic of maintaining such a skeletal looking prosthesis. Given that it was Borg tech, there was very likely a scientific reason for it remaining. She doubted there was much in the way of a logical aesthetic choice, despite the general assumption based on the Junior Lieutenant's species.

God's its going to be weird getting used to be the lowest ranked person in the room again. Well, almost. Flashing the other two another bright, toothy smile, she looked around again, debating which desk she should assign herself. She'd hardly used the place while at Aldea. It had been under repairs from the Savi attack for such a long time that she'd done most of her work in a hastily purloined conference room, or along side Lt. Cmdr. Dewitt where-ever the latter had decided to post up. She wondered where the Mission Liaison was now, but dismissed it as the next arrivals showed up. The...bartender?

That was quite a curiosity indeed. She had seen the man down in Below Decks, when she had taken up an occasional after shift night cap with Riley Patterson  (as the latter would not be able to join her in the spearhead lounge where she often took lunch), or breakfast once or twice with Mickalya MacGregor, for similar reasons. Faye had heard  through the grapevine that he'd had a hell of a time at the hands of the Savi. Such was the extent that she could not immediately place his species - aside from partially feline. Which was...just peachy.

Speaking of cats, she glanced over her shoulder and narrowed her eyes slightly as L'Nari arrived. That had been the most unwelcome revelation of recent days. Faye knew that her fellow Attaché was a capable officer. She had done very well at the Diplomatic Annex. Just...not quite as well as Faye had. It had not been the most friendly of acquaintances. Rivalry might be a good word for it. And for all that Faye liked to think of herself as the egalitarian sort, she had certain blind spots. Her belief that men were for fun and women were for serious work was one of them, that she had struggled with for some time, though she was far from the only Betazoid woman with such a matriarchal view of the world (the current Federation Ambassador from Betazed came readily to mind).

L'Nari was a big, fat, fuzzy blind spot.

One easily dismissed as Lt. Commander Rutherford began her address. Faye found herself straightening her back despite her general inclination to keep a relaxed pose, and wondered just what trick the mostly human  woman had that allowed her to tease that response of out Faye. What little micro-triggers had the seasoned diplomat employed? She held Faye's attention through most of the briefing, right until the very end, in fact, when Faye felt like someone had hit her with a type-9 shuttle craft.

The color drained right out of her face as she head jerked up in clear shock. Memories flashed in the back of her mind, and her mental control slipped, reaching out to read the sincerity and truth in what had just been said. She barely heard her fellow Ensign reply to Samantha - she was still too gobsmacked, to the extent that the news had stripped away any sort of professional poker face she might have. Into that void she blurted out, "Til is alive!?"

Well aware that every face in the room had turned to her, Faye felt a little color return to her paled cheeks, and not in a flattering fashion, but to hell with that. Seeing their confusion, she swallowed and continued in a softer voice, even as her heart beat all the way up into her chest, thundering so loud she was sure that the others could hear it. "I'm sorry its just...Dr. Nicander told me no one - no one survived the destruction of the original Diplomatic suite. We were all in the meeting room, going over what we'd learned when we arrived and they opened fire...I was it. Everyone else was dead. And you're telling me now, a month later that Til - Lt. Brogan's been in stasis? This entire time?" She wasn't sure when she had sagged back against one of the other desks for support but she was there now, frowning with both hands clasped firmly to the edge of the console to keep herself upright.

No one survived. Nicander said no one survived. Did he lie? Til was there, wasn't he? Weren't we all? In truth, memories of that moment were so far distorted in the aftermath of the damage she'd taken, being violently ejected from the room just as the blast doors came down...Memories of fire and pain and darkness warred with an equally vivid memory of sitting in the Spearhead Lounge, in orbit of Romulus, debating which Betazoid Synth band was the best with Lt. Brogan, after going over the days (fruitless) efforts. Did he lie? Nicander? It was hardly Faye's fault that she could not properly remember if the whole of the department had been in the room with her like she'd been lead to believe. She could not remember that Brogan had left the room early, and had been well away from it when the barrage hit. She had taken for face value what she had been told when she had been revived. That Nicander had not cared to elaborate, a lie of omission...

Shaking her head again, she looked up and swallowed back a deep well of conflicting emotions. Til Brogan had been a friend. "I'm sorry, truly. This isn't exactly making a great first impression. It's just not every day you're told an old colleague and friend isn't as dead as you though they were. I...apologize for the outburst."

Fuck me.

Re: Day 30 [0900 hrs.] Diplomatic Council

Reply #7 – June 14, 2020, 10:30:13 PM

Lt. JG Foval | Flag Bridge / Diplomatic Council | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ]
attn @stardust @Jesse @Brutus @Fife @steelphoenix
As they spoke about Rutherford’s heritage, a female entered.   Foval looked into her dark eyes as she welcomed him to the “Madhouse”.   

Foval knew of at least 2 traditional Vulcan therapists that wanted him to consider an extended stint in a centre for “Disturbed Individuals”.    Perhaps they had gotten their wish.    

He took his place as the others started to enter
A purple skinned being entered, with what appeaned to be a prehensile tail.   Following him was a Caitian.   There was certainly species diversity amongst the crew.   He wasn’t the best judge of character, but he wondered if he spotted eyes narrowing as the Betazoid – Danvers – watched L’Nari enter.  He made a mental note to keep an eye on that.

Rutherford laid her metaphorpical cards on the table.   Her expectations of the team, her plans for the practicalities of the department.   He had to confess the business like nature that came from her Vulcan heritage was oddly gratifying.   Should the need arise where he would have to deputise for her for a while, he would be able to do so with a minimum of difficulties.   It would certainly be an interesting mission.  

The Betazoid ensign made a small outburst when she learned that Lt. Brogan was alive.  Her expression and behaviour was something that he had seen before in his own personal dealings.  

“Speaking as someone who has returned from the dead, 10 years after being documented as such, it happens more than one would think.” he offered

Re: Day 30 [0900 hrs.] Diplomatic Council

Reply #8 – June 15, 2020, 11:35:54 PM

[ Lt. Cmdr. Rutherford | Flag Bridge / Diplomatic Council | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @Number6 @Brutus @Fife @steelphoenix
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The initial conversation between the ¼th and the full Vulcan didn’t turn out to be a long one, as the rest of the department arrived precisely on time. But that was okay, Samantha would have a separate meeting with her chiefs, as soon as Lieutenant Brogan was up and well. It would certainly be a good deal less formal than this one. Ensign Danvers had then given her a reassuring pointer, which made the blonde smile warmly, thankfully. The younger woman held all the first-hand knowledge of the voyage so far in her hands. She was the Encyclopedia Britannica of the Theurgy. Sure, there was Thea, who overexplained everything. But the diplomat preferred ‘humanoid’ contact. It was, after all, her profession. “Yes, we’re all here to support one another ... but mostly me.” she reassured back as the petite brunette took her place. A little human humour.

So, without further ado she had started to lay out her ground rules and expectations. Her minority Vulcan side surely merging into her business acumen and professionalism a little more than the Human part. Something she had so far only felt appreciated for. There was a reason why so many of the Federation’s top diplomats were Vulcans. It was their logical approach to conflict. But in her more than 10 year experience, the officer had also learned that almost no species – aside of the Vulcans – adhered to logic only. So that was where she was at a benefit, when it came to understanding emotion through her human side a lot better, than any Vulcan could. There was a big distinction between theory and praxis. 

So, as she spoke, Samantha picked up on Deacon’s slight confusion. She hadn’t mentioned his special position yet. One she’d been advised to consider by captain Ives. And one she’d come to acknowledge as beneficial as well, once she’d thought it through for a moment. There wasn’t much in the way of interruption, which was pleasing. Even as the intermittent question round came, L’Nari merely acknowledged with a short negative. But as the two Ensigns exchanged a loaded look, the Chief Diplomatic officer realised, there was some curious history going on. Though she’d deal with that only once it flared up. But then Faye interjected with an emotional outburst. One that made the blonde jump a little bit. She had not expected that. Readjusting her composure, as the Ensign continued, the Commander brushed her lips together.

“That would be the state of facts.” Samantha replied stoically, rubbing a thumb idly over the edge of the PADD she was holding. “I am not sure if the information of his survival was on a need to know basis, but I am glad you brought this up.” Turning slightly to place PADD and pen onto the desk behind her, the blonde crossed her arms across her chest. “You can’t take everything you’re being told at face value, none of you.” She wasn’t just talking to Faye, avoiding to especially point out the possessed doctor as a potentially unreliable source, in her opinion. “If you obtain any information pertaining to the mission, your tasks or the crew, and you cannot readily confirm the veracity, then get Intelligence to look into it. I don’t want to have any leads based on rumors or misinformation.”

Momentarily Foval intervened too, giving the logical conclusion the unintentional, dry Vulcan humour, that Samantha was so fond of. But she didn’t let it show, it was a serious issue. And just the same, she was sure that the remark didn’t help Faye’s crisis of passion. With all due respect to her third in command, but as a Vulcan former Borg drone, he wasn’t exactly qualified to relate to an emotional young woman. “I understand the emotional ramifications of such a revelation, ensign. Be assured, your first impression remains unscathed.“ she acknowledged as empathetically as her Vulcan professionalism allowed. Trying to take into account that she was talking to a Betazoid. So maybe she could just think about how much she understood her reaction, and felt with her, without everyone else knowing.

“Now, Mister Maryk. I am sure you’ve been wondering what you’re doing here.” Samantha smiled slyly, focusing her blue eyes across on the half-kzinti. “As the proprietor of ‘Below Decks’ I am sure you know a lot that is going on around here, that not even Intelligence would pick up on. I also deduct that you know your way around people. I don’t usually make it a habit to circumvent official channels, but I’d like to invite you to be a civilian liaison to the Diplomatic Council. You’d be reporting to the Lieutenant and I am sure we could greatly benefit from your … ‘off-the-record’ support.” Which wasn’t exactly standard procedure. And she hoped it would go without saying that this would remain within these circular walls. “But of course I expect you too, to check your sources.” she concluded with a nod.

"Now, any more questions arising so far? If not, I would like to continue on to giving out tasks."

Re: Day 30 [0900 hrs.] Diplomatic Council

Reply #9 – June 23, 2020, 04:15:25 PM

[ Deacon | Flag Bridge / Diplomatic Council | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @Number6  @Brutus  @Fife  @stardust

Mister Maryk?  It took some effort to swallow being addressed by someone he barely knew in such a manner.  A scowl tugged at the corners of his mouth as she went on to explain that his purpose was as a back channel of disclosure.  Did she consider Below Decks some sort of seedy Ferenginar establishment where every scoundrel and bounty hunter sought an escape from their life in the bottom of a glass of Romulan Ale?

He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders.  And did she believe that he would leave anything of merit that he did happen to learn unreported if not for this posting?  Further, to check resources?  What sort if diplomatic communiques did this one expect him to received in Below Decks?  At best, what he might learn are rumors -- rumors that would likely fall to those with more resources and more channels to determine veracity.

Were he still on Homeworld, still the Black Priest he had been raised to be, he might serve in such a capacity, bringing such intelligence to the elder priests or, in time, to the Patriarch Himself.  Ironically, under such circumstance, her request would be moot, and any service of humanity would likely necessitate parsley and a fine sauce by which to flavor them.

Further, who on this ship, or even in the Federation at large knew what he knew of his own people and the danger that they posed?

Still, it was a position of some confidence he had been asked to assume.  Eyes open, he gave a slight nod, opting to leave his mouth closed lest it entangle him unnecessarily.

Re: Day 30 [0900 hrs.] Diplomatic Council

Reply #10 – July 07, 2020, 12:28:59 AM

[ Ens. Faye Lintah Eloi-Danvers | Flag Bridge / Diplomatic Council | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Fife @steelphoenix @stardust @Number6 
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Given that her job title included the word 'diplomatic', Faye's current reactions could not charitably be considered such. Diplomats chose their words carefully. They maintained control over their expressions. They rode herd on their emotions. Regardless of what they might personally feel, none of that broke out past the mien of affable calm and approachable warmth that they extruded - unless it served an advantageous goal, allowed them to score some point or underline the importance of a moment.  Outbursts were a tool to be wielded with a deft hand, not bandied about all willy nilly. 

Faye was very willy nilly in that moment.

Embarrassment at her reaction warred with the shock of the revelation given her, and the bite of angry betrayal that no one had informed her of this prior. For over a month she had been led to believe that there were no survivors. Though malicious intent or simple negligence, the Betazoid could not discern. Given that it appeared the lieutenant in question had been held in stasis, as she had similarly been contained during the initial months of the Theurgy's flight, there was little at all that she could have done. The knowledge would not have changed anything in a significant fashion. A man in stasis could not hear someone talking to them. In point of fact, Faye would not likely have been given clearance to enter the room where those injured with such severity that they could not be readily treated, but with a chance of survival under better circumstances, were stored. Knowing would have changed nothing. 

But it would also have changed everything. 

Incredulity momentarily replaced shock and shame as one of the new officers made a small comment about coming back from the dead. She cocked an eyebrow up high on her forehead for a moment, in approximation of what another of the man's species might do, and then let out a very small burst of unexpected, amused laughter. "I suppose that would make you something of a resident authority on the subject. Sir," she remembered to add the honorific at the end. Who would have thought to see reassurance from a Vulcan?

Sucking in a low breath once again, Eloi-Danvers listened as the new commander of the diplomatic detachment used her momentary confusion and shock as something of a teaching lesson to illustrate a point of order. Faye stamped down on a bit of ire that bubbled up over the moment. Need to know? horseshit, she thought. The potential was there she supposed, but then she readily dismissed it out of hand, simply because she could not think of a logical reason for that to be the case. This was not, of course, the point of the lesson. Take nothing for face value. It burned Faye that she needed the lesson. 

At least the blonde woman offered her a sop to her pride, and Faye was grateful for it. She gave a small nod, and murmured an uncharacteristically quiet, "Yes ma'am.".

The worst part of it all, she thought, as she listened to Rutherford addressing the ship's bartender, was that she'd been caught so flat-footed in front of L'Nari. It was damned childish of her, and she knew it. This did absolutely nothing to assuage her feelings on the matter. Sucking in a sharp breath, she forced herself to watch the Chief Diplomat, and utterly ignore the presence of the other Ensign, and she most certainly not peek to see if the snide amusement she expected to feel had actually manifested in the Catian. That would be further beneath her than her previous actions had already been. 

It took a moment for Faye to realize that Rutherford had stopped talking, and asked the group for questions. She chewed on her lip for a moment, and looked around at the others. She had no immediate questions, as such. Just a burning desire to go look at medical records and see if there had been any other of her former colleagues put on ice that she'd been lied to about. But that was hardly a professional reaction, and after a moment's reflection, she realized that she did have a point to raise. 

"No ma'am, no questions about what's passed so far. Though I am curious if you wish a full debrief for the entire department, or if my written report was sufficient?" She let her gaze sweep the room for a moment. Technically this might fall under the 'assign tasks' portion of the discussion that the senior diplomat had eluded to, but after her outburst, Faye wanted to prove that she could actually be an officer, and not just a shocked bystander. "With the exception of Mr. Maryk," she too nodded toward the man, "All of you are new here. If I can clear anything up, or elaborate anywhere that you might have questions, I'd like to make myself available to do so."

Re: Day 30 [0900 hrs.] Diplomatic Council

Reply #11 – July 09, 2020, 08:14:04 PM

[ Lt. Cmdr. Rutherford | Flag Bridge / Diplomatic Council | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @Number6 @Brutus @Fife @steelphoenix
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Was Samantha surprised by the Ensigns reaction? A little, but she would not let it show, much like the Betazoid woman would eventually learn to gauge her reactions and what they would seem like to others. Surely the Ensign had an advantage in being able to read emotions on someone else much easier than a mere human, even with years of training in doing so the ‘old fashioned way’. But being aware of someone else’s passions was only half the rent, in diplomacy, it was equally important to channel and express your own, in a way conducive to the situation at hand. That’s where Foval was probably more adept. But that’s why they were a team. To learn from each other’s weaknesses and to be inspired by their individual strengths.

Watching the brunette’s remark towards the former Vulcan drone unfold, the blonde couldn’t help but express the same faintly bemused smile, that had grown on her plump features when the man had performed his original, inadvertent bout of humour. Though the core reason of their conversation was a slightly loaded one, she appreciated this subtle banter immensely. Even as she had laid out the ground rules in her most professional manner, she had no intention for this place to become a center of fear. Where everyone was too scared to express a basic human emotion. There was due time for everything and all she asked was the right judgment to ascertain when that was. The ultimate affirmation of Eloi-Dancers, however, made her want to inquire whether there was a problem. But the diplomat was ultimately stopped by deciding whether to pose the query in a Vulcan or Human manner. Which would’ve dramatically altered the way it would’ve sounded.

To be perfectly honest, steering the meeting back into a more professional, detached direction, Samantha gave the brunette an appreciative nod. Brushing her plump lips together for a moment, to alleviate the slightly dry feeling from not having talked in a minute. “I am glad you brought that up.” she replied, as if it had been a welcome reminder. “I think we can all benefit from your input and if you were so kind to give us all, as we are here, a rundown of your view of past events, that would be highly appreciated.” She leant back to give the Ensign the floor, basically, with a subtle pointer of her hand just the same. “I think we can rest assured that Lieutenant Brogan will not need to be briefed.” Oops, did that sound like dry humor? Well, she could always blame it on Vulcan brashness. Giving Foval a quick look ,she hoped he would back her up, even though he likely had no idea what her issue was.

Anyways, she was curious to hear the reports through the lens of Eloi-Danvers. Everyone had their own individual view on facts and a report hardly ever told the whole story, but just one subjective fraction of the happenings.

Re: Day 30 [0900 hrs.] Diplomatic Council

Reply #12 – July 14, 2020, 10:03:03 PM

[ Lt. JG Foval | Flag Bridge / Diplomatic Council | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ]
attn: @stardust @steelphoenix @Brutus @Fife

At the discussion of his presumed death, he found himself veering off for a moment.   The ensign that he was ceased to be when the nanoprobes, saws, implants, and cortical nodes changed the geography of his body.   Was he the same Vulcan that he was?    An earth philosopher once said “I think, therefore I am.” But what happens when you think differently?   Are you the same person.   

His moment of existential  crisis was quickly stopped.   Such points were for private contemplation.    He checked to see that no one else was looking at him and he silently filled in the conversation that had just proceeded.  
This team seemed to be dedicated, if diverse.   Perhaps that’s what Starlfleet needed.   The forces that had compromised them perhaps took advantage of the traditions of conformity and standardisation that the organisation had inherited from its member worlds’ martial traditions.     His study of Starfleet history had shown that some of its earliest celebrated Captains had been lax with discipline, even by the comparative rules of the day.   Even Starfleet’s later distinguished Captains had done so at the expense of authority and orders.  

He watched as Rutherford gave the floor of the meeting to Eloi-Danvers.   She made a comment about Brogan not being required, and she quickly shot him a look.   He struggled to understand it, and made a mental note to go back and see what the issue was.  

He turned to look at the ensign.   He was eager to see what she had to say.   Written reports offer tremendous insight, but an oral report had advantages too.  

Re: Day 30 [0900 hrs.] Diplomatic Council

Reply #13 – July 18, 2020, 05:01:42 AM

[ Ens. Faye Lintah Eloi-Danvers | Flag Bridge / Diplomatic Council | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @stardust @Number6 @Fife @steelphoenix 
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Rutherford's attempt at humor - at least, that's what the Ensign took it for, as she was trying hard not to peek into her new colleagues brains on the first meeting - took Faye off guard, and she wasn't entirely sure how to take the words. She needed a moment to collect herself. Bringing them up to date, tamping down on the turmoil inside from what she had learned, felt more tasking than her tet e tet in the Aldean Council chambers a few weeks back.

Faye had to think about the best way to proceed. Then with a shrug she decided to dive right in. No reason not to give them all she had, as long as she set the proper stage. Folding her hands behind her back, she paced a bit forward and found a place where she could  better address them all. She paced for a moment, letting her gaze sweep over each of them in turn, and then took a deep breath. She had volunteered for this just now, she reminded herself. Time to prove her worth. 

"Please bear in mind, from the moment that we set were assaulted on Jupiter Station until shortly before the ships encounter with the Savi for the first time, I was in stasis. Injuries sustained when Jupiter Station and its assigned patrol craft opened fire upon the Theurgy. I have a summary report on what happened during that time, and then I'll pick up with the events that I was directly involved in, the splitting of the vessel during the continuance protocol, reintegration, the Battle of the Apertures, and our stop over at Aldea.

"The flight from Jupiter Station..." She began, referencing notes on a PADD. Some of this would be information the others had been given during their own on boarding briefings. Faye's report was more focused. She spent time highlighting the interactions that the ship had with other powers. From the Niga Incident, and the encounter with the Relativity, through the Ishtar event. The interactions with the Harbinger going into great details there. The arrival of Carrigan Trent. The return of Wenn Cinn.  The raid on Black Opal, and the first real sign that the Romulan's were entering the slowly developing fray - facing of a Mogai-class Romulan warbird.

Starbase 84. The failure to send out the transmission. Coming to the rescues of the Resolve. And her eventual defrosting. 

From there she covered the more recent interactions, the encounter with the Asurians when everything went to hell, the Savi assault. The ship splitting up, and playing a cat and mouse game across the nebula, facing off against Klingons, incurring the wrath of the Chancellor by slaying his son. The rescue of the Cayuga, and the survivors of the Endeavour. The destruction of the Bellerophon and the Dauntless, as told from the perspective of someone there on the bridge at the time, and the reliving of Carrigan Trent from command. She hammered in the shock they all felt, not just when Jennifer Dewitt took over the Helmet but the sheer pain that ripped across the bridge when the spine of the Bellerophon broke, and their attempt to save as many of the Starfleet officers they themselves had doomed. And how the rest of the Theurgy had shown up at the last possible second to pull their bacon of the fire.

The Borg. 

She shuddered visibly when she recounted the speech of the Borg Queen. The mad, crazy dash down a Transwarp corridor, and the nights of effort in negotiating with the Aldean council. She glossed over the 'gift' from the councilwoman to her and Lt. Commander Dewitt. The details she had of the issues encountered with the Orion Syndicate. The local Klingon politics. All in all, her 'short briefing was in fact anything but. When she wound down, she leaned back against a local console, swallowed, and said, "Believe it or not folks, that's the cliff notes version."

Re: Day 30 [0900 hrs.] Diplomatic Council

Reply #14 – July 26, 2020, 06:02:01 PM

[ Lt. Cmdr. Rutherford | Flag Bridge / Diplomatic Council | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @Number6 @Brutus @Fife @steelphoenix
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Listening to Ensign Danvers‘ elaborations, was an experience that could not be compared to reading the full reports … and the blonde diplomat had. It did not convey the personal nuances, the glimmer of past daemons still persistent in the young woman’s eyes, her posture still marked with the added responsibility, she had not only been imposed with by her job, but also her mere presence, through all of this journey, so far. But at the same time Samantha felt that, if she hadn’t embraced all of it as a chance to grow as a strong woman, a Starfleet officer with tremendous potential, then it would’ve been a missed opportunity. She somehow didn’t think that was the case. Because sometimes there was little you could do with the cards you were dealt, but simply to play along and make the best of your hand, not take too many gambles and come out on top, preferably. That was especially true for someone who only just started out their career. And for the young woman, that had undoubtedly been a rough start.

Then there was Foval, who listened to every word Faye narrated with the intent and determination of a true Vulcan. A man who had only just, considerably recently, returned to service after his assimilation. Joining the corps in a new capacity of his career. Who possessed all the telltale signs of a good diplomat. The Vulcan logic that allowed for calm and calculated decisions, even in heated negotiations, as well as residual knowledge from billions of individuals of thousands of different species. Not many outside the Federation archives could honestly say that.

L’Nari too had a promising, although yet fresh, career in the Starfleet diplomatic corps. The Caitian woman had been able to gather a lot of experience in the field, especially in the aftermath of the Dominion war on Cardassia. As well as Paris, where Samantha herself had once served for a year in an apprenticeship capacity. There was a lot to be learned, and to be picked up on, in and around the Federation council, what diplomacy and politics were concerned. Both of which heavily influenced one another. Undoubtedly, she too possessed the right background, to become a formidable diplomatic officer.

And then there too was Deacon, who didn’t wear the same red undershirts as the whole lot of them, who didn’t seem to possess the same awe for the rank and the uniform, as was instilled in each and every one standing around him. But the fact that Captain Ives had pointed the man out to the commander, had already gone a long way in granting an advance on respect towards him … that would have to be backed up at some point, of course. Their journey was only just starting, and she had an inkling he would remain a valuable asset to the mission and to the crew as a whole, in his capacity as the proprietor of Below Decks.

It was a young team, that had been assembled there that day, in front of the new chief diplomatic officer. But one that radiated with potential, and among everything else, the determination and commitment to the mission, that the Theurgy needed to prevail against these insurmountable odds. If every team aboard was as strong and promising as this one, then she didn’t see any problems.

“Alright, thank you very much Ensign for that brief history.” she smiled with a subtle chuckle, reciprocating the sentiment of the Betazoid’s own quip. “Now, I’d like to hand out some preliminary tasks, until we have worked out exhaustive mission parameters among the senior officers.” Samantha continued, picking up her PADD from the desk behind her once more, going through her brief notes. “Lieutenant Foval, I’d like for you to acquaint yourself with department procedures and the ship’s emergency command structure. In your positions as assistant chief, you might very well find yourself in a position of having to take over the department, at some point, god forbid.” she nodded at the man before moving on. “Ensign Eloi Danvers, since you’ve been with the department for the longest and have undoubtedly acquired the closest knowledge with our Klingon hosts, I want you to formulate all of which you have learned into a negotiation strategy … I’ll gladly assist you, should you hit any formulaic potholes. And Ensign L’nari, I want you to liaise with sickbay on Lieutenant Brogans progress and prepare his briefing for his eventual release. Please keep me appraised on the developments there.”

Placing the PADD back on the desk behind her back, the blonde took one final look around, an encouraging smile gracing her features. “Well, if there are no further questions, make it so.” she chuckled, blue eyes ultimately landing on Deacon, who hadn’t gotten any orders. Pushing herself off the desk, she crossed the diameter of the circle of officers, that slowly dispersed. “Would you mind if we spoke a minute about potential catering services for future diplomatic functions aboard the Theurgy? I have an extensive list of dietary requirements for several species on file if you …”

And with the further relations being developed, the meeting drew to a close, as all the officers went about their own jobs and duties. All of which would eventually benefit the progress of their mission, to rid this galaxy of the dark shadow.

FIN