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Day 02 [1110 hrs.] A Journey In the Dark

[ Lt. Cmdr. Rutherford | Main Engineering | Deck 25 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @uytrereee 
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Stepping through the ethereally gilded Gates of Moria, into the ominous halls of Khazad-dûm, the lonely blonde elf was instantly struck with the weight of eons of legacy, the struggles to bring together the evanescent glow of ruby and lapis lazuli gemstones, and with it the power and might to drive forward this colossal monstrosity. She had never before stood at the precipice of the ship’s deep mines, in the very furnace that brought together valuable resources from deep within its stores, forging them together into the gleaming sword that drove forth their crusade against tyrannical creatures of supernatural fashion. And in that very instance it surprised Samantha to the core, of how similarly their own tale played out, in comparison to fables of the old worlds. How their mortal struggles against an ethereal peril, was no different than any ancient hero’s journey to a barren mountain, in order to slay a mystical dragon. Hell, the parasites even looked like dragons.

Yet, at this point, it almost didn’t feel as if they were turning a chapter anymore, in their epic tale, but rather linger on the threshold of an entirely new novel. Their old selves like characters from a long passed mystery, removed from the beings they were, venturing into a different story. For when the diplomat had met Frank Arnold they first time, they had not only been in completely different stages of their lives’ journeys, but an entirely different setting as well. Yet the measure of their meeting was so intrinsically similar, that it tied the two instances together with silver thread, across time. She’d sought him out on her fifth day on Theurgy, now, a week later to the day, it felt as if everything had changed. And then, in a weird act of irony, not so much. The Diplomatic council was still a heaping mess, probably more so than before. And it was in dire need of the gentle touch of someone who knew what they were doing. Like a broken woman needing the attention of a man confident in his abilities. Not to draw any misleading relations, that part was well taken care of, she surmised.

On the account of all the things that HAD changed, however, she’d originally found Arnold in Auxiliary Enginerring 1, which he was the local warlord of. Now, he had moved up to the main fortress, ruling the entire kingdom of mechanical prowess. Not in slaying the one that preceded him, by god, but by replacing a legacy that surely wasn’t easy to carry. There was a distinct void palpable in entering these hallow halls, like hexes and taunts, echoing in between the columns of stone, or lack thereof, to be more precise. Instead the gentle hum of machinery in perfect tune washed past the slender figure like warm summer winds on a glistening shore. Basking in the light of a little sun of its own. The physical reactions almost akin to fusion, radiating a white glow from its midst, belying the ferocity and passion, contained within. Cocooned within layers of forcefields and durable alloys, a small star in its own right, like a butterfly perpetually blossoming. Flapping its wings to drive forth the winds that could change an entire world.

Finding the man in question wasn’t hard, if you just followed that light, around the perimeter of the glow’s horizon, circling to the EPS trunks against the back walls, stretching the entire height of the room like intricate columns with notches and engravings. An architectural marvel without intent and thus unique in its unabashed beauty. For the uninitiated surpassing their use, for sure. And below, within an access hatch, like a little doggy door in the machinery, stuck out the lower half of a generic uniformed body, though one which bore a resemblance that heralded in mementos of past interactions, bringing a gentle glimmer of bliss to the blonde’s plush lips. Crossing her arms in an expectant manner, shifting weight to a single dainty leg, the woman cleared her throat audibly against the comforting purr.

“I guess I should recognize those legs anywhere.” she mused, touching back to their first meeting, starting in a very similar fashion. Which brought the entire cacophony of change and persistence, back into harmonic unison.

Re: Day 02 [1110 hrs.] A Journey In the Dark

Reply #1 –
[ Lieutenant Frank Arnold | Main Engineering | Deck 25 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @stardust 
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It was going to be an odd day for Frank. This morning he'd met Scruffy LeBlanc for an impromptu and uninvited, yet very inspiring meeting about the man's future. This afternoon they had the memorial ceremony, in less than an hour he needed to go and get dressed into his formals, having yet to make a decision on where he was going to attend. But for now he distracted himself, tucked away in a culvert, half hidden like an ostrich with its head in the sand.

Except Frank's sand was cooling causeway eight, and his sand was a warp core injector pump. He'd spent the last little while fighting with it. He couldn't quite figure out why yet, but each time he back cycled the pump, the damned thing threw the duocube port, and blew the fuse. At his feet sat a stack of such blown fuses, like the husks of shelled peanuts, each one of the six or seven a testament to a failed hypothesis.

He worked on the input port, by now he'd ruled out the actual circuitry, and the ejector, so that only left the input port and the injector itself. Changing an injector was a big job, more than he had time for in this little window, so he'd settled on the input port. If not he'd have to scrub this job for now, deal with the small phase variance, and put it on the task list to get seen later. Today, sadly, he had to be Chief, and for the first of likely many times, duty came before desire, ceremony before the job priority list.

Frank laid on his belly mid plugging another in fuse, as he tweaked the output flow valve when he was greeted by a nicer set of legs. Much nicer in fact, and an equally pleasant voice to match. Over the din of the small echoing space, that was made doubly loud by the awkward chugging of the minutely off time pump, he couldn't place the voice to the exact person, but he couldn't help but chuckle at the remark. He said, likely louder than was called for, "If you've come selling something, I'm afraid my wallet's in my other jumpsuit."

Without warning he made another tweak, and pushed the switch. The awkward chugging disappeared, and the pump began to hum gently, slowly picking up pitch in a very promising spool up accompanied by a gentle cyan glow that began to emanate from the culvert, and Frank could be heard speaking very tenderly to the machine then, "That's good, very nice, very nice, point nine gigacubes, one point three, come on you beautifu..."

Without much warning, a sharp snap could be heard, the blue light disappeared as did the pleasant hum, and they were replaced by only darkness in the cave once more, and a puff of white smoke that smelled distinctly of electrical fire. Frank would smack the pump with his meaty fist, and grunt out, "I hate you, I really do, can't you see you're keeping me from a lovely set of gams."

With that and a dadly groan as he slid from the hole and to his feet, the top half of one of guild-masters of the Mines of Moria emerged from his cave. He wore an arc flash shield and insulated gloves which met seamlessly with his jumpsuit, like a knightly helmet and chain-mail, and once he raised the protective shield, he wore a smile as well. His face was tired, and carried both soot and sorrow beneath the eyes. He recognized Samantha Rutherford, and he offered her a polite nod, erring on the side of familiarity as they'd not had many meetings beyond their initial.

"Lieutenant Commander, we have to stop meeting like this, with me halfway into a tight space." He chuckled gently and shed his gloves, offering her a mitt fit for an ogre for a shake, as he looked her up and down, she did make for a pleasant conversational partner, not harmed by her looks, "What can I do you for?"

Re: Day 02 [1110 hrs.] A Journey In the Dark

Reply #2 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Rutherford | Main Engineering | Deck 25 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @uytrereee 
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In reality, there was never really a good time to abstract the emotional veracity of death rituals and rites of parting. Occupying time with the numbing haze of finiteness clouding one’s mind, letting the cold dampness of mortality seep in, with all its implications and ramifications, like spreading roots in dark soil. But it was a much easier feast to accomplish, when assembling the concept with an inanimate object, like Theurgy itself. Who had by all accounts a mind, a heart, a circulatory system … all the physical details that facilitate a semblance of life. And in that regard, the burly man wielding wrenches and hyper-spanners was, by a measure of comparison, a doctor, of a kind. But given his main patient, its size and stature, his methods were a little bit … rougher, than what Kobol would’ve probably employed. His bedside manners, however, were that of a seasoned nurse, who peppered everyone’s distress with light-hearted – if sometimes crude – mockery and jest.

Raising a brow diligently at the man’s cultural metaphor to the bartering systems employed by many society’s throughout history, before eventually surpassing such materialistic notions, the quarter Vulcan always basked in the fascination the other three quarters of her DNA and it’s race held for referencing obsolete tokens of the past, in order to relate to a situation in the present. Almost like wallowing in the comfort of an evolutionary vestige. Which humans also knew a thing or two about. Yet the leggy blonde chose not to betroth the joke with any more than a gentle smile and parade of white teeth across peach flesh – which Frank couldn’t see. Yet it set the modicum of tone for the remainder of their interaction, as the history of them meeting did in no small measure.

A delicate hum followed the man’s last tinkering noise, which in turn made way for a rather salacious advance on the ship’s internal systems. Which prompted the diplomat’s plump lips to fix in a slightly askew posture, which could’ve been classified as bewildered pondering. But she wasn’t really expecting any less of any sort of interaction with the newly minted master of the forge. Shifting her stance ever so slightly at his continued conversation with a part of Theurgy that probably wasn’t very vocal in return, the slender officer settled on her other foot while crossing delicate arms over a large PADD she had brought. “Some …” and she was already fishing in her long gone memory of academy crash courses on engineering, for any term of equipment present in a warp core setup, coming up with nothing in the murky waters of her mind. "… doohickies …” she settled, finding at least a human expression that fit. “… can’t be reasoned with.”

Less than satisfied with her somewhat mediocre interjection, the seasoned wordsmith internally recoiled slightly, in a moment of temporary dread, while the engineer peeled himself from the solemn confines of the access tunnel. But as instantly as he stood erect before her, in all the glory of a statue commemorating a behemoth of the mines, Samantha’s confidence quickly returned, on the coattails of familiarity. “Is there any other way …” she replied ambiguously, highly doubting there were many occasions in the day where the man wasn’t finding himself in a tight space. Proverbial or otherwise. She sought herself to be a good enough judge of character by now to say with absolute certainty that these were likely the man’s most favorite habitats. Befitting of a king under the mountain.

Returning her laminar hues to the metallic plate, clasped to her chest, for a small moment, the blonde’s mind also returned to the initial reasoning for her ventures into the deep bowels of the ship. Another oddly reminiscent herald of their first meeting. “Coincidentally, we DO have to stop meeting like this.” she reiterated, a half-hearted smile on her dainty face, in anticipation of the man’s reaction, as she handed over the PADD illustrating all the new, substantial damages to the flag bridge, in the aftermath of the Klingon incursion.

“I am sorry I couldn’t take better care of her.”

Re: Day 02 [1110 hrs.] A Journey In the Dark

Reply #3 –
[ Lieutenant Frank Arnold | Main Engineering | Deck 25 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @stardust
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Frank took off the visor altogether. He figured this was going to be a polite conversation, which meant that it'd last more than fifteen seconds. So it'd be his longest conversation of the day, which was fine. He didn't feel much like talking, but Sam Rutherford had a way of teasing a smile out of him, regardless of what he wanted. She was a natural diplomat, pretty, and by most accounts decently kind as well.

He picked up a thermos of something, and unscrewed the cap for a drink, taking a long swig and then wiping his wet beard to clean off any dregs. He listened as she tried to explain the problem, and he just...stopped. The delicate wordsmith, with a proclivity for prepositions so strong that she could form filigree from phrases, had been forced to settle for 'doohickies'. He smirked to himself, the smile that she seemed so readily to be able to find for him, like a needle in a haystack. He waited for the rest of the explanation, put so expertly into the terms of a diplomat, and instead of a chuckle, he offered a warm smile, and rested his massive palm on top of her hand on the PADD.

"Well sometimes those doohickies can be very hard to reason with. Expert pronunciation by the way." He joked lightly, actually finding a shred of a good mood in this. "I find sometimes young engineers really struggle with those technical terms. They lack the context to tease out the meaning." He motioned to her up and down, "But not Commander Rutherford. No commander, you have made the doohickies your...bitch."

He burst into laughter then, and took another swig from his thermos, the coffee warming his gullet, and with it loosening the tightness of the vice on his soul. He set the silver cylinder down, and reached out for the PADD, taking it and looking it over. He sucked wind through his teeth, and would offer a tsk, "What have you done to her?" He shook his head slowly, reviewing the damage. It seemed to have suffered more than much of the Theurgy, which was a shame as he'd just put the damn thing in properly.

He handed the PADD back to her, having reviewed the damage report, and heard her apology, and he waved his hand. "She can be fixed. And more importantly, she did her job." He motioned to Sam up and down, clearly indicating her before he offered, "You are still standing here." He rolled his shoulders, "I have plied my trade, and the things I've built have kept you safe. For that I am grateful, so grateful in fact that the prospect of building those things again excites me." He smiled after the seemingly very candid admission, that came from a seemingly infinite well of good will was Frank Arnold, and it seemed that these hard times, while they had tempered the flame, had not extinguished it. "Normal people believe that if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. Engineers believe that if it ain’t broke, it doesn’t have enough features yet."

He cracked his knuckles and picked up his own PADD, that had been fitted with a stylus for the Chief to write. He waggled the stylus at her and offered, "I've got these fat fingers you see." He chuckled, "Back in the early days of medicine, it might stand to reason I'd have made a poor proctologist, maybe a fairly good gynecologist though." He heard himself, and covered his lips, "My apologies, lost track of myself there."

He started to stroke on the PADD with his pen, and then added, "So, we've got to put your palace back together." He smiled, "Should we go there now?" He looked around, and then announced seemingly to no one, "Sancho, my sword! My armor!" A very quixotic reference, although Rocinante was absent.

Re: Day 02 [1110 hrs.] A Journey In the Dark

Reply #4 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Rutherford | Main Engineering | Deck 25 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @uytrereee
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To say that engineering was a different world akin to the gilded halls the Commander usually found herself in – well, before joining Theurgy and wallowing around in Klingon prison courtyards and asteroid mines – was quite the understatement. A realm that played by different rules entirely. A thermos of some caffein fix instead of fine crystal with burgundy ambrosia, a burly wrench instead of delicate prose, cavernous spaces filled with drowning hum and running lights instead of a subtle string quartet playing somewhere in the distance … yet none of that elevated one over the other and the diplomat had learned in her long career that the grandest foley was to actually do so. Reality was an exclusively subjective concept and different people enjoyed different things. That was why she found her work so intriguing and invigorating in the first place. No negotiator was alike, much like all of these similar looking tools probably did entirely diverse jobs.

Yet, despite all of these appreciable differences, there was a palpable convergence between the senior engineer and her, which she could trace back through time all the way to their first meeting. A certain deft word-smithery and confidence that was hard to fake and only really worked when it came natural. There certainly was a distinctive creative license, in how they approached the enchantment of the wicked, but the end results were not dissimilar of one another. In no time, once more they had turned the barren technical wasteland of Theurgy’s bowels into a Shakespearean play of smart banter and snappy repartee that cracked like a whip, every time it landed spot on. And there were few on this entire ship that the blonde enjoyed banter with as much as she did with the sturdy rock of the ship’s mechanical department.

Lowering demure pate in hidden delight, plush lips curled into a gentle grin like a sly fox into the hollow of a tree. And even though the man’s words were lined with a distinct air of teasing – which lesser intellects could’ve taken offense by – Samantha merely alleviated any internal struggle with a delicate push of her tongue, into the soft flesh of her cheek, while betrothing the man with a gingerly squinted look that indicated a challenge accepted … as always. Gratifying his ‘compliment’ with a nod of her sophisticatedly inclined brow and an almost imperceptible curtsy, white teeth broke from the confines of tact and etiquette as the booming laugh burst forth from beneath the trellis of Frank’s salt and pepper stash. Clasping her delicate hands together behind her posterior, as the man inspected the PADD she’d brought, the woman leant forward ever so slightly, peering over the threshold of the screen, in order to follow along as he discovered every scratch and every dent.

“I can only surmise you did not have my distinct style of negotiation in mind when you selected the materials for the bulkheads.” The blonde shifted blame playfully back onto the engineer, in this back and forth between them, as if tides under a full moon. Swiveling back onto her heels eventually, as the inspection of damages was completed, raised brows fell like hydraulic hammers on to larimar hues guarded by squinting frames of long lashes. “Technically it was a compression rifle and a plucky green vixen from intelligence that kept me safe, but …” she did not go on, but instead let peach petals convey a sense of levity and, perhaps, sarcasm. A gentle glimmer of mischievousness to her bright eyes complimented this display of playful delight.

“Glad you see it as a challenge though … and I do have some thoughts on new ‘features’.” Already composing herself in a more professional manner, if only for a moment, Sam was quickly brought back to center stage of this satire when a comment about fat finger just struck her like a splash of cold water. Fixing azure orbs back on the man she gave him a few moment to define his thought process more but was ultimately convinced it would’ve been better she hadn’t. “Yeah …” she exhaled compressed air, manicured brows contrasting in opposing angles, as she joined him by the side of his own PADD. “… that’s between you and your guidance counselor.”

Letting another chuckle spew from plush pillows as her pate gently rocked from side to side, as if she was a garden sprinkler, the blonde gratified his inquiry with a simple shrug as she turned to walk on towards the doors … deliberately leaving him hanging for a moment just to ground his exuberant nature. Frank Arnold was like a wild stud that you could never quite tame. Instead, you had to periodically give him the spurs, so to speak, to remind him who was holding the reigns. Well, at least that was her professional opinion as a diplomat. Turning for a moment to watch him catch up, the Commander confidently strode out of engineering alongside the man. Dangling the proverbial carrot right in front of him.

“So, fought any windmills lately?” Samantha queried idly, as they pressed on through the arteries of the ship. “But seriously though … wouldn’t I be Don Quixote and you Sancho Pansa?”

Re: Day 02 [1110 hrs.] A Journey In the Dark

Reply #5 –
[ Lieutenant Frank Arnold | Main Engineering | Deck 25 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy]

Attn: @stardust

Lieutenant Frank let out a laugh at the suggestion that he should be Sancha Pansa.  "Commander Rutherford, that idea is purely preposterous.  You have far too much rationality to charge spinning wind driven engines with a lance and horse!  I on the other..... well, that's an everyday occurrence.  Besides, I am depending on your finely crafted diplomatic skills to protect me while I heedly chase after the different projects you find for me and not something else that I should be really working on as well."  Using hand gestures, the big engineer guided the Chief Diplomat to the turbolift and set the Flag Bridge as the destination while overriding the system.  "I read somewhere that a department head is supposed to be punctual, and with the time pressure of the memorial ceremony in less than 2 hours and your request, well, I need all the breaks I can get.  Nice perk of the job.  No one can stop us now!"  The big engineer beamed as he delighted in his new found override privileges.

Frank's demeanour changed to a slightly more serious grimace as the turbolift began to move.  "I think a lot of us were very lucky to come out of this one alive.  It's good to hear that you had some help in keeping your head attached to your body."  Salt and pepper covered lips pursed themselves momentarily as the big engineer stared sightlessly at the turbolift door for a few moments before turning his attention back to the elegant diplomat.   "This ship seems to have a special place in the universe, never felt it on the Endeavour, but it's like the island of misfit toys that can pull off the miracles the universe needs. Sure, we lose a few along the way, but we always seem to pull through despite the cost."  Frank shook his head as he rolled his massive  shoulders continuing his roundabout train of thought.  "Do you know the details of the mission to Breen? The one where we lost Dewitt?  Their ground team leader killed, another member so badly shot up fighting these.....things, she had to do surgery on herself, then ran off on another mission to Qo'nos right after?  We are very lucky to have such an outstanding calibre of people on board.  Don't think I saw this sort of intense quality even during the Dominion War.  I think the universe is rooting for us!" The thought made Frank feel better as his smile returned.

Lt. Arnold shook his head to change subjects.  "Must be getting old and senile in my old age and woolgathering like this."   The big man's trademark smile getting that little bit bigger as he realized he's said his piece.  "This little jaunt is about what you need for us to survive this adventure.  I'm looking to beat whatever curse is putting down Engineering chief, after chief engineer on this ship, and that means getting our people what they need.  Maybe I should find an exorcist to get rid of the bad juju around the warp core or something.  Anyway, that's not important, what sort of additions and upgrades did you have in mind?  A spring loaded phaser pistol hidden in every console?  Hidden compartment for rifle wielding Orion's to drop from the ceiling?" The engineer jested.  

Re: Day 02 [1110 hrs.] A Journey In the Dark

Reply #6 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Rutherford | Main Engineering | Deck 25 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @RyeTanker
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Samantha gracefully arched a brow at Frank’s thesis, on why she would be better served with the role of the squire, to his wayward sole of a self-proclaimed knight. A gentle nod followed, almost absent-mindedly as she contemplated the veracity of his words. It portrayed the kind of astute awareness of people around him that she would wish upon a ship’s counselor, if anyone. Undoubtedly, however, such amicable demeanor had also played a pivotal role in the man’s rise through the ranks.

Following his gentlemanly gesture with another obedient nod of her beautiful pate, the slender diplomat moved ahead into the waiting turbolift cabin, letting the next volley of pertinent information sink in. “Well …” she started out, an audible breath escaping her throat on the coat-tails of the word. “… I also read somewhere that attendance was not mandatory.” she proclaimed with an almost sour flavor to her otherwise saccharine voice. The truth was, the commander had no intention to go. To fresh were her own emotional wounds of a potential future, luckily averted. And in order to deal with such trepidations – and being the best officer, she could be – meant that removing herself far from the more definitive results of past days, was the smartest move right now.

Larimar gems eventually moved to peer upon the chief engineer’s sturdy countenance. The way he seemed unwavering even in the toughest of currents. Yet with an emotional depth to him that would make a holo-actor shiver in their boots. “Not a thesis I would want to put to the test.” the blonde replied with abject humor. Not letting the slight mockery take away from the seriousness of the situation they were in and the sacrifices that had to be brought in order to get here. This was not her first dire posting, not her first grand loss, certainly wouldn’t be the last. Not in THIS business. Which kind of refuted Frank’s hopeful theory. But she wouldn’t relay that either.

“I am afraid I was not directly involved in that particular series of events.” If even just the slightest air of disdain on her voice, Samantha remembered very well her initial objections to the mission, in favor of a more discreet approach. Which she had been overruled for. But such was the plight of the chief diplomatic officer. “I do agree, however, Admiral Anderson sure knows how to pick them … which sounds oddly self-serving.” A gentle glimmer of mischievous glee sparked from sparkling blue soda to peach slices, curving against the brim of her face.

“There is no harm in letting the mind wander, Lieutenant.” The diplomat validated Frank’s trepidations over opening up to her. “As long as it always returns to where it’s supposed to be.” Gently tapping the side of her own head, while giving the chief engineer a knowing look, the blonde ultimately chuckled gingerly. Taking another stroll along the river of the man’s endearing lamentations, before returning to the center of the issue.

Constraining a bout of laughter behind plump lips, the commander swiftly eluded the confining cabin as the doors opened on Deck 2, letting the gentle chortle rather escape into the vaster arena of the corridor ahead. “Both very good suggestions.” She entertained the idea, even though it was clearly sarcastically, and went against every diplomat protocol she held dear. “But I do believe if the council could be returned to its former glory, that would be enough to ask.” Concluding her words, Samantha precariously slipped through the outer doors of the diplomatic offices, which were jammed ajar at an odd angle, as were the interior ones.

“I would, however, want to ask that these access points would be reinforced and that the anteroom could serve as a security lock. The flag bridge may not hold any significant value, unless the main bridge was to be taken out, but try explaining that to an alien invader with a deck plan and only a rudimentary understanding of Federation standard.” Spinning around slowly, halfway into the room, the blonde let Frank take in the full extent of the destruction. There was practically no chair left unturned. The large glass wall on the long side, separating the main area from the conference room, shattered into a million pieces.

“Also would be nice if that wall could be enforced as well, as a last bastion.”

Re: Day 02 [1110 hrs.] A Journey In the Dark

Reply #7 –
[ Lieutenant Frank Arnold | Diplomatic Council fka Flag Bridge | Deck 2 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy]

Attn: @stardust

Lieutenant Frank Arnold kept his silence on whether Rutherford should have attended the memorial ceremony as he had been planning, but he could guess as to why she chose her particular course of action.  As the diplomatic chief was want to do from time to time, it did give him pause to consider his own plans and he started to rethink that instead of attending the main ceremony, maybe it was a better idea to being the memorial to the staff who couldn't attend.  This thought carried him into the Diplomatic Council room, and he was abruptly brought to a halt.  If he was capable of such a thing, the big engineer would have broken down and cried at the state of his creation.  The main thing that drew his attention was the large overturned conference table and the ugly black blastmark of a grenade explosion.  He looked around aghast at the carnage the room had suffered, glass still littered the floor, and there were energy weapon blast marks scorching the walls.

The only thing he could truly be happy about was the Baryon Sweep that had been used to clear out the blood, but the rest.  Hard blue eyes began to survey the damage as he listened with one ear to the diplomat's requirements, mostly that the place just be put back together, but with a few additions.  When the blonde diplomat was done, it was only then that he decided to give voice to what his heart ache.  "What in the bloody blazes happened here?? The flight deck looks like it's in better shape, and they had to fight a fire from crashed fighters down there." He took a moment to scratch his salt and pepper beard as he began mentally tallying up the number of man hours that would be needed.  Taking a deep breath "Sorry about that outburst. The normally quietly intense engineer apologized to the lithe chief diplomat.    "I was expecting a lot of things, but not a war zone.  This is one of the last places that I expected to be trashed, no major EPS conduits to explode and buried under the bridge, so much more well protected."   Still, Frank didn't have a breakdown while he spent his fury while he followed the blonde to where she was standing and just stood beside her, occasionally turning in a standing circle as his mind's eye began to make the necessary repairs, adjustments, and improvements to the room.  It was all coming together, but there were a few things that stood out that needed to be done right away for his version of obsessive compulsive.

Making his way to the side turned conference table, Frank just looked at it, then peaked over the other side to confirm this suspicion before simply squatting down and sticking his ham fingers under the table and lifting it back up on to it's feet, so it was a table once more before putting his PADD on the table. He turned twinkling blue eyes to meet golden framed sapphire as he began thinking out loud once more and pointing where the dividing glass once was. "First, off, we're going to replace this missing pane with transparent titanium.  That should hold off just about everyone and can only really be destroyed by heavy weapons, or one massive expenditure of energy." His battered hands knocked on the table and he took another moment to bend to examine the thickness of the conference table.  "Next, we're going to inlay a duranium plate on this here conference table so you have something more substantial to hide behind, and if they manage to turn the titanium into splinters, you should be fine.  Gonna have to see about adding an ejection charge or lift legs to help flip the table."   Spying the repurposed armory locker, the engineer tapped, several buttons and smiled as the area behind it was essentially empty. Pointing a finger at the display "We're going to turn part of that cultural shelf into a dual purpose shelf.  On one side, you can keep your knicknacks and then you can rotate it to grab arms.  I should be able to fit four rifles, and four pistols on back of that thing.  I think we can also add more shelf space for your collectibles."   Turning to look at the anteroom entrance, the engineer considered adding an automated grenade dispenser, but wrote that off as excessive.  "I think I'll install concealed security phaser strips in the anteroom lighting, that should turn the room into a nice little abatoir for anyone else that tries to force their way in.  I dub this place Casa Diplomatico!" Despite the jovial proclamation, something was bugging the Chief Engineer and he had to ask. Frank turned to face the chief diplomat one more time as salt pepper eye brows knotted in speculation.  "Did you activate the forcefield on the door frame or did the Klingons blast their way passed it?"

Re: Day 02 [1110 hrs.] A Journey In the Dark

Reply #8 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Rutherford | Main Engineering | Deck 25 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @RyeTanker
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The abandonment of a particular topic, in favor of another one, was gentle reprieve akin to a cool rain on a hot summer’s day. The recent brushes with death had been a far too familiar sentiment, for the unwavering blonde, to mimic any kind of strength and restraint, if her resolve was to be put to the ultimate test. And she didn’t need to touch that particular stove, to know she’d get burned. But what past experiences had also taught her, was that she would be alright eventually. Time was a powerful healer.

Pushing her hands into her hips, stretching that aching back a little, larimar gems wandered through the derelict pastures of the diplomatic chambers. Her mind gingerly wandering across the foothills of mementos, from the struggle that had ensue here. All while Arnold had an outburst she didn’t register as such until he apologized for it. And the only polite thing in that moment was to accept his regret. “No worries.” Samantha remarked, brushing the notion off with ease. “I imagine I would be equally frustrated had my hard work at the negotiating table be undone by a band of angry Klingons. Which, actually, I had once …” she pondered, not going into detail, potentially obscuring diplomatic deftness in which she may have crafted a false narrative to put an opponent at ease.

“Well, as I said … I surmise any area that is better protected than most others will draw extra attention.” Slender shoulders shrugged lightly, as the commander moved forward, delicately trapsing over the debris like a heron in a marsh. Listening to the chief engineer carry on about all the improvements he envisioned, her striking pate nodded in frequent intervals, bolden curls bopping like golden cape to her scalp. Following his continued gesturing, the diplomat wasn’t overly distressed about losing shelf area for cultural icons. They didn’t exactly host foreign dignitaries here. This was an administrative space, if anything.

“I like what I am hearing.” Samantha smiled. It was a little peculiar, however, how her mind had so quietly shifted, these past weeks. In the past she would’ve rather moved her department to a supply closet, than indulging in such offensive measures to reassure safety. That wasn’t what diplomacy was about. At least it hadn’t been. But her tenure on Theurgy had proven to require a more aggressive tone, and had reciprocated a likewise overbearing response, evidently.

At Frank’s subsequent question, however, the blonde had to think. There had been a lot going on back then. Mind had to sift through a couple of memories, to build the desired timeline. Ultimately, though, she had to push her bottom lip up in a contemplative arch, while shaking her head. “I don’t think there was any time. We were in the middle of a subspace call, when the Klingons broke through the door. And as far as I know, the conference room did not have forcefield emitters installed.” Yet, she didn’t know for sure, hadn’t asked. “You think that would’ve helped?” she pondered. For in the diplomat’s own experience, Klingon’s always saw additional defenses as additional motivation.

Re: Day 02 [1110 hrs.] A Journey In the Dark

Reply #9 –
[ Lieutenant Frank Arnold | Diplomatic Council fka Flag Bridge | Deck 2 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy]

Attn: @stardust

Lieutenant Frank Arnold mentally winced as he turned to face the head diplomat.  It was easy to forget just how many systems most of the rest of a ship's crew didn't know about unless they had specialized knowledge about it, or were the engineer or Operations.  Still, it didn't hurt to keep everyone appraised of just what cards they had in their hands when they were at the table, more so when it involved life and death.  Looking around, the engineer's eyes found the conference replicator and saw the telltales of a working unit. The broad engineer exhaled before pushing a couple of chairs towards the properly upright table and made his way over to the dispenser. "Computer, Frank Arnold French Coffee Service, Dark, and two croissants please."  The replicator unit beeped obediently before a shimmering light appeared in the alcove to be replaced with the food request.  Big hands reached in and grabbed the laden tray out of the alcove before turning around. "And voila, a good mid morning snack." the engineer beamed as he carried it over to table before lowering himself into the seat just right of the head position, leaving that for the blonde tressed senior officer.

Being the gentleman, Frank flipped over two low rise mugs and filled them with steaming dark liquid that immediately filled the room with scents of roasting, chocolate, and a touch of earth, but more importantly in the engineer's, caffeine.  Leaving one mug on the service with a tiny pitcher of cream, and a bowl of sugar, he also took a croissant and napkin and placed it before him before taking a sip of the dark brew and steadily regarding the woman across from him. "I do have ulterior motives for plying you with caffeine and butter laced carbohydrates.  Mainly putting you at ease before I begin lecturing you on ship's systems that I hope the caffeine will keep you awake through." Frank started while waiting for the diplomat to get settled. 

"The wonderful thing about the replicator being widespread for so many uses is that we can incorporate technologies on a mass scale everywhere to the specifications of the person or organization." Sip of coffee. "Every corridor brace and door has a force field generator built into it, mainly to maintain atmospheric integrity during a hull breach." A big hand knocked wood on the desk despite knowing the ship was going to have numerous holes punched in it anyway.  "I don't know how the fight in here went down, but it helps to know the capabilities of your environment's trump cards.  Sooo, for future reference since it could help, don't forget to throw the forcefield up outside the door to buy yourselves time to at least get armed and activate all the Casa's goodies." 

As Frank picked up the croissant, and took a bite eliciting an appropriate gourmand crunch.  The engineer took some time to savour the texture and flavour even though he wished he had some bacon and cheese in the pastry.  After putting the pastry down, he regarded the larimar gems for a moment before he spoke up again.  "I've never been interrupted during a call before, and considering the paint and patch job the engineers are going to have to do, it was quite the interruption.  Did you want to talk about it?"

Re: Day 02 [1110 hrs.] A Journey In the Dark

Reply #10 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Rutherford | Diplomatic Council | Deck 2 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @RyeTanker
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Frank Arnold was a peculiar man and Samantha could readily admit she had never met anyone quite like him. He walked to the beat of his own drum, no matter how out of line that could potentially be, and in a way, she respected the hell out of that. Especially since he was so grossly unapologetic about it. So, it did not initially strike her as exceedingly odd, when he beelined for the last functioning replicator – ironically the one they had dispensed their weapons from – before setting up what she could only assume to be some kind of second breakfast amid the wreckage. Considering it was about 45 minutes to noon.

Following the man with a somewhat hesitant grace, the lithe officer deliberately settled into one of the two chairs, he had erected back into their original setup, along the table. Arching a brow suspiciously at the beverage offered, the strong scent assaulting her partly Vulcan olfactory system, the diplomat had actually come to groom her pallet towards the blander flavors favored by that part of her physiology. But she had learned in her training to overcome such personal preferences in favor of appeasing opposite parties by indulging in their distinct fancies.

Taking a sip of the strange concoction between coffee and hot chocolate, pretty features derailed only ever so slightly, as she put the cup back down, figuring her concession to be extended on the matter. Larimar gems rose to meet the engineer’s eyes as he professed his ulterior motives in … offering her this acquired taste of beverage. However, at the same time, a sardonic smile grew on plush lips.

“Are you sure you’re not a diplomat?” Sam asked with a gentle ring of mockery to her voice, actually going in to give the coffee another try, wondering if maybe she’d be able to get used to it. She did however opt out of the croissants deliberately. Not only was she quite full still but also did they strike a little bit too close to home right now. Given the setting of destruction they were sitting in.

“Maybe it would be a good idea to brief my department on the procedures and capabilities of the defensive systems once they are back in running order.” the blonde suggested, shifting in her seat with legs crossed gingerly. Brushing her lips together in contemplation, as if to conjure more words for further conversation, when in truth she was running through her schedule in her mind to seek out a potential timeframe for this. At the mention of rehashing the events in the flag bridge, however, azure ponds quickly fell, obscuring behind the guard of long lashes, as her glance fell to the cup she once more used as a token of appeasement … and maybe distraction.

“Not even a little.” she replied, instantly realizing that her curt mannerisms may be construed as rude. But in the grander scheme of being summoned to the chief counselor’s quarters in about 4 hours from then, she wasn’t looking to be probed for an emotional reaction twice in a day. Pressing the last droplets of liquid from peach slices, the commander sat the cup back down.

“Something I was contemplating; however, would it be possible to create some sort of emergency exit that would be normally concealed? Having only one entrance makes this place easily defensible, but it also almost turned it into a death trap.”

Re: Day 02 [1110 hrs.] A Journey In the Dark

Reply #11 –
[ Lieutenant Frank Arnold | Diplomatic Council fka Flag Bridge | Deck 2 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy]

Attn: @stardust

As Lieutenant Commander Rutherford delicately drank the coffee, the Chief Engineer smiled.  There was something odd about the way she was drinking the coffee.  The croissant was provided just in case someone had the munchies, but usually most drank the coffee.   The blonde diplomat on the other hand was, well, he couldn't quite put his finger on it.  Despite the quip about him being a diplomat, he would have to mull this one over, maybe she was just a small sipper.  Mentally shrugging the problem aside for the time being, Rutherford's questions brought him back to the present and he nodded his agreement at having the diplomatic types become more familiar with the workings of Casa Diplomatico before they went on their next trip. 

Taking another slug of the dark caffeinated beverage, the infusion of energy got his brain working and brought up the work schedules in his mind.  Blue eyes moved on their own accord as he focused on the work list in his head.  The Chief's lips twisted in a grimace, mostly because the damage survey was still being worked on, so he only had an idea of what needed to be fixed, and roughly how long a repair should take.  There was a time frame of when he thought a meeting of everyone would work, but it was far off in the future.

Frank didn't take the rejection of the chance to talk over why the council room was in a wrecked state personally.  He simply nodded, accepting her decision that this was something that she had no intention of sharing with him and the engineer mentally shrugged it aside as something that Commander Rutherford would take care of.  In his mind, if one didn't accept an offer of assistance, you either figured out the problem your self, or buckled and asked later.  Either way, the issue was there to be solved and the universe would provide an avenue to that solution.   Frank Arnold would deal with the issue if it ever circled back to him later.

It was the final question that caused the engineer to tense once again as he looked into the larimar gems to see if the Rutherford was playing some sort of joke on him.  Blue met blue, and Frank found Samantha quite serious in her question.  Despite the jest that Frank had some diplomatic skills, he was an engineer at the end of the day and he nodded sagely.  It was a a reasonable question after all.  Draining the last of the coffee, Frank placed the cup down and stood up as he made his way to the wall where the armoury was going to be restored. "I can see we're definitely going to need a refresher on ship systems in addition to the update on what the new systems are going to do."  He stopped next to the LCARS pad and punched in a simple code, and there was whoosh at his feet of a door opening.  Standing aside, the engineer crossed his arms.  "It's easy to see something like this as part of the scenery and forget it's function.  Here's one of the access to the Jefferies Tubes.  There's another one at those two points"  A big hand came up and pointed at a spot on the opposite wall across from the open door, and another opposite the entrance to diplomatic council main entrance.

The Chief crossed his arms as he frowned ferociously before leaning back on an empty piece of wall.   "I wouldn't worry about you and the rest of the staff not knowing about the tube access.  At the end of the day, I should have marked it more clearly and we should have done what amounts to a safety overview before we headed for Qo'nos, so I'm glad the over sight did not result in your death and that of the Orion."  Big arms moved as Frank took a deep breath to internalized another responsibility that came with the job, yet his eyes were still steady for he would not shy away from the responsibility. "This one's on me to rectify."  His hands tapped on his arms for a moment before his lips began puttering in thought before he put his idea to the diplomatic Commander.  "Engineering is still working out what the repairs are.  At the moment, assuming someone isn't working on the survey, we're mainly repairing the power, tactical, and propulsive systems, along with the holes in the hull.   I think we should be able to have the renovation and repair done by the middle to end of two weeks from now.  How do you think that'll work for you and your staff?"

Re: Day 02 [1110 hrs.] A Journey In the Dark

Reply #12 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Rutherford | Diplomatic Council | Deck 2 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @RyeTanker
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Sitting there amidst this wreckage, sipping coffee and smelling the sweet pastry, Samantha couldn’t help but be reminded of Alice and the Mad Hatter. An ancient earth tale of a proper young girl, falling into a world of myth and fable, meeting – among many other fantastical creatures that symbolized a human affliction in one way or another – a rather peculiar fella simply referred to as the Hatter. A man of almost insane confidence and with an innate desire to make every tea party the best tea party, in which he educated Alice on the workings of the world she was in now. All that was missing, really, seemed to be the Dormouse and the March Hare … roles that would surely be filled should they actually consider turning this into a department event so that everyone could have their cup of knowledge about the inner technical workings of the diplomatic department. Something she herself would’ve still given little attention towards just a few days prior. But the blonde supposed she could see the merit in it now. Barely having escaped the supposed death trap.

Watching the engineer mid sip, as he left the table abruptly, the diplomat’s blue eyes followed him over the brim of her cup, like azure marbles rolling over its precipice. Clearly this little ‘wonderland’ held quite a few more secrets than she initially assumed, she pondered, as Frank showed her that specific rabbit hole. Where it led was probably neither important nor pertinent, at this moment. Placing the cup down finally, the blonde dipped her pate sideways, in a gentle measure of pudency. Indeed, that particular access looked just like any other bulkhead in the room, leave maybe a couple of subtle markings indicating something special. Which could’ve been just a trash chute. She somehow doubted any other department head outside of engineering was that initiated into the inner workings of this vessel. It was one of those things you didn’t know you needed, until it was high time to use it. Especially in her line of work. Like a compression rifle.

“Acknowledged.” the blonde replied coyly, gleaming over the edge of her cup, taking that one last sip, before placing it down on the saucer proper. All the while remaining seated while Arnold assumed his power pose. “Well, don’t beat yourself up about it.” Samantha dismissed casually, as if to covertly shift all the blame on the man despite her kind words. An intentional ploy. “I guess it would’ve been prudent to query the ship’s manual for any and all emergency access points beforehand.” she ultimately conceded, however, framing her words with a pleasant smile. “Granted, the crew didn’t exactly get the shakedown cruise they deserved.” They were all in exceptional places and situations, so it was to be expected that some procedures that would’ve been considered normal in Starfleet operations, had fallen victim to circumstance. “I guess we’re more resilient than given credit for.” She ultimately chuckled, at his statement, after attempting to disarm his self-blame.

Listening to his timetable, Sam stood up cautiously, brushing away imaginary crumbs from her uniform legs. Picking up her own cup and the untouched croissants she diligently placed everything back into the replicator as well. The place may have been a mess, but none that she herself had caused. “Well, how about we try to finish it by the end of next week and you’ll have one more week to tend to your other issues, without me constantly bothering you.” the diplomat smiled, placing her hands behind her back all duty-like, as she statuesquely stood across from the engineer. A logical proposal, after all. “Since there’s a chance I won’t be on Theurgy two weeks from now.” If her proposal to fly ahead and meet Donatra with a diplomatic mission was going to go through, after all.

Re: Day 02 [1110 hrs.] A Journey In the Dark

Reply #13 –
[ Lieutenant Frank Arnold | Diplomatic Council fka Flag Bridge | Deck 2 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy]

Attn: @stardust

Lieutenant Frank Arnold mentally dismissed most of the attempt to divert responsibility.  The changes to the Diplomatic Council had been his doing and in his mind, nothing was going to change the requirement, like crew safety that went along with it.  It wouldn't hinder him, but it was something to learn from. 

He blinked in surprise at the short deadline though and he smiled at the challenge of having the place put back together so soon.  He'd really expected to be able to properly patch all the holes and install all the features by the third week in dock.  Luckily, Theurgy was in much better shape than it was going into Aldea.  Still, putting a ship back together out of the onboard resources was a tall task by any stretch.  The big engineer returned to his seat and grabbed the idle PADD as the Chief Diplomat returned the coffee service to the replicator.  He manipulated he PADD and examined the known damages and began looking at the priorities of the various systems. Hmmm, maybe if I defer these repairs here and here for a few days......   Frank thought to himself.  It wasn't an ideal solution though and he hated having to Rob Peter to Pay Paul in making fixes.  It was definitely doable, but the main issue was the ship's industrial replicator was over tasked as it was and partial capacity from the industrial replicator system in the shipyard wasn't cutting it.

The Chief Engineer looked up as the Chief Diplomat returned and an idea struck him and he gave off an easy smile.  "I think we can make that work, but I believe there's a bit of saying in diplomatic circles, quid pro quo."  Frank clasped his hands together on the conference table as he leaned into explain his brain storm.  "Here's our basic problem, the Klingon's are still in chaos, so I don't think we're getting the material support we need to get the ship patched up as quickly as possible.  What I need is unfettered access and a higher priority to the industrial replicator facilities in the shipyard.  At the moment, our on board industrial replicator is producing a lot of the repair components, but it wasn't meant for a job of this size.  If we can get the shipyard to produce a lot of the generic items like our power conduits, bulkhead materials, and hull plating, especially in bulk, we can task our own replicator to the more sensitive Starfleet technologies and build up a surplus."

To be honest, Chief Arnold wasn't sure how Samantha was going to take being asked to work on the ship's time off, but he really needed those supplies and with the ship's internal resources stretched to near breaking, he would take help where ever he could find it.  In this case, he needed more material faster than Theurgy could produce.  If he got even a fraction of what he was asking for, it would significantly improve the ship's chances of being whole by their next encounter.


OOC: Sorry about how short this is, but Frank just needs stuff.

Re: Day 02 [1110 hrs.] A Journey In the Dark

Reply #14 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Rutherford | Diplomatic Council | Deck 2 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @RyeTanker
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From the short time knowing Frank Arnold, Samantha had concluded that he loved his Whiskey, Coffee and manual labor. Not to mention a good challenge. And when it came to knowing people and remembering their quirks, the diplomat was an absolute expert. It was a characteristic that had not been created by her occupation, but had certainly been groomed and come in handy on numerous occasions throughout. Sucking in the soft flesh of her cheeks in between her teeth, the blonde watched the man diligently. Every nuance of stress, every line on his forehead, as he poured over his schedules, lips twitching ever so slightly with the aftershocks of unvoiced trepidations.

It ironically made her smile mischievously, at the chaos she created. Figuratively and literally.

Raising her perfectly groomed brows at the engineer teaching her an assumed diplomatic proverb, Sam couldn’t help but let the rumble of a small chuckle part her plush lips and reveal the soft cornered bottoms of her two front teeth. She understood that in Federation Standard, which had been derived from the English language, ‘quid pro quo’ was commonly used to define an exchange of goods or services, in which one transfer was contingent upon the other. But growing up in France, she knew that romance languages retained the original meaning to define a misunderstanding or blunder made by the substituting of one thing for another, instead. Which was certainly a type of diplomatic ploy.

“Sure, I’ll quid pro quo you.” she replied curtly, hiding the differing meaning behind faint dimples on porcelain skin framing curved rose petals. Leaning back in her chair, larimar hues almost eclipsing behind frames of lashes drawing in upon them, the blonde focused her attention on the engineer’s demands. And the more he talked about his dilemma, the more she wondered why he didn’t consider this her duty anyways. In which case the matter of ‘quid pro quo’ in either definition as not valid.

Sitting back up straight, lithe figure coming back alive with vigor, the diplomat clasped her hands over her crossed knees with an audible thud. “I guess you can’t replicate an industrial replicator, can you.” Sam briefly attempted a whisp of engineering humor, before returning to a more dutiful stance. “I understand the chancellor’s priority right now is to bring his battered forces back to strength to support his claim to the council.” she started the long way around. “And while our situation will worsen considerably if he doesn’t manage to keep the empire together, so will his if we fail to reach our objectives.”

Almost concluding her statement at that, the blonde stood up gallantly, straightening out the jacket of her figure-hugging uniform. “I’ll remind the chancellor of his obligation to ‘quid pro quo’ us for our help with securing his bloodline. You’ll have your priority access by tonight.” she promised, even though there was no real way of ensuring such an outcome, but relying on her years of experience in diplomacy and guile. As well as the general fact that everyone had a trigger, by which they could be manipulated. And that was a horse she would always bet her entire fortune on.

Re: Day 02 [1110 hrs.] A Journey In the Dark

Reply #15 –
[ Lieutenant Frank Arnold | Diplomatic Council fka Flag Bridge | Deck 2 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy]   Attn: @stardust

Chief Arnold was a satisfied Engineer.  Commander Rutherford was going to help him out and he had faith in her abilities.  This did not mean that he bet that Sam was going to get him everything he was asking for.  That was too much.  Instead he stuck with Hope for the best, plan for the worst and the worst in this case was that Martok was going to completely reject the request and Theurgy would just have to make do with the work priorities as they were already being scheduled.  Still, depending on how Rutherford did, there was a little extra to a ridiculous amount of stuff he was going to be able to fix and improve on.  If he was just a little lucky, he might even be able to build himself a couple more industrial replicators to speed the repair process along in the future.  That would be amazing! summed the engineer's feelings as he as he let his mind take a flight of whimsy for moment and it reflected itself in a dreamy grin and an unfocused stare above the blonde diplomat's head for a moment.  As Frank brought his head back down, en errant thought struck the Engineer and he made a note on the PADD to ask Andrew for help in another project.  He didn't hold out much hope for this ask, but if it worked, then the ship would be tactically whole more than it had been since the engagement in the Azure Nebula.

The fact that he something had gone wrong with his diplomatic word play was not lost on the Engineer.  He simply treated it like so much rain. It just slid off him.  Still, it was apparent that the Chief Diplomat had taken umbrage with the usage and he made a mental note to make it up to her when he go the council room patched up.  Picking up the PADD, Frank exited the conference area and took a last look around the room.  He was pretty sure that when the ship was was no longer declared renegade, all his hard work was going to be taken apart by the ship wrights back in Sol. but in the mean time, he had free reign to change some other details and a new vision of the diplomatic council room began to take shape in his mind.  A quick look at the Chief Diplomat's golden tresses caused him to quirk an eyebrow in thought and he scribbled another decorative note.  If he got to work on this, maybe he'd get to use that work shop he'd designed on the holodeck.  This idea would help to brighten up the place and hopefully make it feel more warm.

Turning to face Commander Rutherford one more time before he took off, he cocked an eyebrow before deciding to tell the Chief Diplomat something she probably already knew. "Well Commander, it's been good seeing you again.  Thank you for helping with the shipyard issue.  The grape vine has its ups and downs and from what I heard, we had people in the main council chamber fighting right beside the Chancellor, a couple of them were your people.  You know, Klingons love having a good ally next to them in an all out knife fight, especially one against an enemy of epic proportions.   Frank shrugged off anything else he could have said as that was the extent of his knowledge as to what had happened in the High Council Chambers.  Never did hurt to bring extra ammunition to a negotiation.   "I hope you're persuasive work yields fruit."  As he checked a chronometer, Frank realized he had to go get ready for the funeral service.

The big man turned to leave and took a few steps before suddenly stopping and tapping his head for a moment before turning back as he remembered one last thing.  "Samantha, I also heard you led the charge to rescue Andrew.  Thank you for bringing him back to all of us.  I took him out of sickbay for breakfast a few days ago, and I think it was a good chance for him to actually rest instead of being cooped up in sickbay."  Frank's features softened.  "I think most people have trouble really getting to rest without somewhere to call home, and in his trade, it's always hard to find a port in a storm when it's needed. I think he's found that here, emotionally at least.  I know you can wax poetic about there were others who went with you, but you led them, so accept the thanks from me for the crew on the behalf of those that went with you.  Thank you for bringing back our shipmate and friend."  With that bit off his chest, the Chief Engineer nodded one last time and left the chambers, leaving Commander Rutherford to her thoughts.


OOC; Apologies for being so vague about some stuff, but it's they'll materialize in the follow up. 

 

Re: Day 02 [1110 hrs.] A Journey In the Dark

Reply #16 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Rutherford | Diplomatic Council | Deck 2 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @RyeTanker
[Show/Hide]

Samantha’s attention had almost diverted from the charismatic engineer by the time he had decided to face her once more, on his way out of the war-torn vestiges of the diplomatic department. Larimar hues met his one last time, with the gentle questioning attitude of slightly raised brows. A prompt that didn’t need to be verbalized. It was both affected by the mere urgency of his departure, as it was by her puzzled mimic. Towards his first statement, then, the blonde’s pate dipped in a casual nodded, accentuated by the faintest, yet most rewarding, twitch of the corners of plump lips. A sensation, however, which quickly dissipated as her countenance stumbled at the path of memory, on a rather precarious stretch.

An issue which had been brought to attention in shreds, prompting her to already schedule a debrief for the following day, to the details of what Frank alluded to. Sam would, however, make an effort to keep the man’s praise out of the evaluation. No offense intended. They were just on two opposing ends of appreciation, for the very complicated matter of conduct, she surmised. But as his statement ended on a low accentuation, and not the higher pitch, usually indicating a question, the commander opted to merely ratify his words with another succinct nod, and not her professional opinion, on the matter. Yet, she couldn’t let the perceived slight of questioning her own manners or persuasion slide, if only for the benefit of a well-mannered taunt.

“It always does.” the diplomat replied confidently, yet not without the healthy dose of self-awareness that her job mandated, wrapped into a ginger smile, across pillows of crimson silk. Letting the man go from the shackles of captivating azure, the woman turned to brush a few ringlets of spun gold behind one ear, picking up a PADD from a nearby workstation, to get to drafting a quick request to the Klingon supplies branch, as she heard her name dragged across the husky whetstone of Arnold’s vocal cords. “Yes, Lieutenant.” she replied, a cliché of playful annoyance in her voice, based in a real measure of perceived urgency. A sentiment which, succinctly, fell to the wayside through the runaway carriage of conflicting emotions, at the mention of the intel chief’s name.

Sucking in the soft flash of her cheeks with a gentle smack of her tongue, Samantha’s cornflower fields constricted ever so slightly beneath rows of lashes standing tall like frames of hollyhock. For a moment, she basket in the unspoken truths of Frank’s revelations. The hint at a revelation made towards him over the nature of the chemistry between the two officers. At the very least, he seemed little surprised by the unusual vigor, with which the diplomat had defended the prospect of losing a war asset. Not much unlike the aforementioned aggressive negotiations in the Klingon high council. Yet probably based in a different measure of prospective loss. So also, in a way, entirely different.

Brushing her lips together with an abject nod, the blonde let cerulean pearls drop to the marred floor between them, and the brief lamentation of dark futures averted. She didn’t bring herself to say anything further on the matter. Merely relaying a measure of the desired compliance, in silently accepting his gratitude, over keeping Andrew alive and bringing him back. Which she still couldn’t believe was any more her doing than it was fate’s. As a matter of fact, she was so caught up in the potential ramifications, that she didn’t notice the engineer slipping out of the council till after the room had fallen almost entirely silent. A gentle lapse of awareness she momentarily regretted. Focusing her attention on the PADD in her gentle grasp, however, the blonde shook off such considerations as if they were speckles of ash, caught in her hair. Only to stand still within the wreckage for a considerable amount of time, drafting the request to the Klingons, like an untouched statue of ivory marble, amidst the ruins of a lost civilization.

A remnant from a time that had passed, yet a herald of a future that was yet to happen, all the same.


FIN
 
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