Day 33 [2100 hrs.] Wrong Ship, Buddy

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Day 33 [2100 hrs.] Wrong Ship, Buddy

August 13, 2020, 09:30:36 AM

Wrong Ship, Buddy

STARDATE 57640.23
APRIL 12, 2381
2100 HRS

[PO2 T’Kolla | Deck 19 | Vector 3 | Access Corridors | USS Theurgy]^@Swift
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The tubes were a lone place. Almost miles of empty access tunnels and junction rooms. Most of the time one could crawl his way through them without even realizing that he wasn't entirely alone aboard the ship. They were the perfect place to work for mad psychopaths, sociopaths and workaholics, as the humans said. Taa'gur was definitely neither of the first two... well at least not entirely, he surely killed and tortured some people and maybe got mentally broken at an age of twelve or so, but in his opinion there was nothing about his attitude that would let him look like a psychopath and while he had currently no real relation to other crewmen aboard the ship, he had his own reasons to keep this distance. Two painful reasons.

While T'Kolla climbed down the access corridor, he heard one of the closer hatches opening manually. Strange, those hatches normally open automatically. There's no need for pushing them open as long as there are no system malfunctions. The last thing the Petty Officer wanted to do now was helping whoever was trying to push his way there inside the tubes and anyhow he had something else to do in this part of the ship than taking care of some stupid hatch malfunction. What he really had in mind were the Pulse Phaser Arrays and more specific the upgrades he had to apply on them. From what he has seen at Starfleet R&D the new weaponry researches of the Starfleet have been excessively increased during the last two years. What he thought was just a normal response to the devastating outcome of the Dominion War turned out to be the long planed idea of this oversized tapeworms. Whatever their plan finally will be. It didn’t matter for the Devore. When they wanna start a fight, they better have the guts to finish it too.

So now he climbed the ladder down to the next junction room with access to the Pulse Phaser Arrays. It was a relative huge room compared to the standard size of a junction or access corridor aboard this ship. And the main reason why this room was that ordinary big was quite simple, it was one of the few points one could directly access the Pulse Phasers. In the most other arrays the only access point suitable for upgrades or refits was outside of the ship hull and even though Taa’gur had a not too insignificant experience with space walks, he simply preferred to work at normal gravitation.

Climbing half way out of the tube, Taa’gur decided to jump down the remaining space. A decision the Devore regretted immediately. With an unmistakable sound the Petty Officer landed down in the room. While he hadn’t yet cared about whoever had opened the hatch before, now he clearly did. In front of him kneeled a hooded individual. Before he could even react to this person, an object – probably a hyperspanner – flew directly toward his face. In a more instinctive than active reaction he moved both of his hands in front of his face to block the object. Unfortunately the hyperspanner was nothing more than a distraction by the unknown individual to kick the Devore in his, now unprotected, side. The sheer impact of the kick knocked Taa’gur down to the ground and gave the attacker enough time to dive through the apparently forceful opened hatch. In the few moments Taa’gur could swear he saw long black hairs hanging out of the hood as the unknown individual passed him. Seriously? On your old days you’ll let yourself get beaten up by some random prick. Stand up and show that shit what the Imperial Fleet had done to spies!

Despite the obviously slightly broken ribs where the spy had kicked him, Taa’gur jumped up on his feet and chased the intruder. There was only one way the individual could possible take. The left corridor would lead to the next airlock that was connected to the Aldea Shipyard and if this intruder will be able to disappear into the crowd then there was only a small chance Taa’gur could get him.

Oh but if he’ll be able to get him first then they’ll have a lot of fun in one of the empty cargo bays.

Re: Day 33 [2100 hrs.] Wrong Ship, Buddy

Reply #1 – August 16, 2020, 04:26:41 AM

[ Lt. Cmdr. Andrew Fisher | Airlock Antechamber | Aldean Shipyards ] Attn: @DaValle

It’d been something of a physically taxing day for the Chief Intelligence Officer, as he’d finally had an opportunity to take advantage of some of the impressive recreational amenities afforded aboard the Theurgy. After having worked up a bit of a sweat in the upper gymnasium, and having gone the literal twelve-rounds with Theurgy’s Chief CONN Officer, in a somewhat balanced sparring match that ended in the other’s favor; Fisher had sought out one of the ship’s many holodeck Facilities, where he’d engaged in another friendly competition with yet another Theurgy Officer. Yet again, he’d lost said competition, which had caused Fisher to wonder if his relative-age was starting to wear him down. Had he really lost such an edge in recent years, that he’d gone 0-2 in back-to-back challenges that he’d started? It genuinely bothered him, but he was gradually starting to rationalize that the only reason he’d been beaten, was because of a lack of consistent training, and preparedness on his part. He’d let himself get soft since Starbase-718, and it was starting to show. Making a mental note to begin a regular regimen, he’d then chalked the day up as something of an exercise in reminding him of his status as a mortal.

He’d then promptly settled on finishing the night in one of the cantinas located on the Aldean Shipyard’s promenade. For two reasons: One, it afforded him a chance to try some of the local cuisine. Two, it meant he could rough-it-up with some Klingons, if they were feeling so inclined. In his own experience, he’d come to both respect and appreciate the simplistic notions that motivated the warrior-race. An appreciation that may have stemmed from his past, in which he’d fought in battle both against and along side them; and it never mattered where you had stood at the beginning of the fight, as once the fight ended, you became brothers in a sense. Somewhat missing that feeling of simple comradery, he’d hoped he might bump into a few of them, but alas the cantina had been decidedly devoid of any ridged skulls, and drunken boastful banter. An oddity aboard a joint Klingon/Aldean facility such as the shipyards, but not out of the realm of possibility he supposed. So, he’d been relegated to sharing his meal alone, having sat in relative peace and quiet at one of the tables that had been located just outside of the particular establishment he’d chosen.

Now, as he sauntered casually back from the cantina, deciding that it was time enough to call it a night, he approached the airlock antechamber that connected to a docking port on Deck 19.

Yet, as he approached it, he heard something of a commotion reverberating down around the corridor. With curiosity and concern pushing themselves to the periphery of his attention, he cautiously neared the corner, intent on sneaking a peak before closing the gap, but as he did, whoever had been running slammed into him with surprising force. The impact of which sent him, and the hooded individual sprawling to the deck-plating.

“Whoa! Easy!” Fisher exclaimed as he rolled over onto his side, though as he did, he saw that the culprit had already rebounded to their feet and had taken off running in the direction that he’d just come. His gaze turning back to the airlock access port, he saw a pair of Security personnel struggling to find their way back to their own feet. Obviously, they’d been knocked momentarily unconscious by the same individual, who was clearly on the run from something, or rather someone. A someone that Fisher then saw hot on the trail; a male Devore petty-officer that had a sternly determined look on his face. Recognizing that look, Fisher understood that whoever was on the run, had stolen something of value. In the back of his mind, he remembered intercepting a report from Security about some kind of data leak, regarding non-critical ship’s information, and he wondered if this incident was at all connected. A wonder he was now sensing a determination to ascertain an answer to.

As he climbed to his feet, brushing himself off, Fisher regarded the Devore for an instant; what was his name? The crew-manifest flashed through his somewhat eidetic memory, and he recalled the only Devore member of the crew. “Mister T'Kolla. I take it you’ve lost something?” The question was of course rhetorical in nature, and spoke to Fisher’s penchant for sardonic-humor, even in times when there was something at stake, like potentially compromising information on Theurgy. “Whoever they are, they bounded down for the cantinas.” His attention went back down the corridor, as he adopted the task at hand as one of his own, given the fact that the people most apt for the job were laying in a state of relative daze in the airlock antechamber. No, if this data thief was going to be caught, they would need to be caught by either Fisher, or the Devore Petty Officer that was seemingly engaged in the hunt. “Do you know the layout of the shipyards at all? Is there a way one of us can head them off?” Fisher asked, a little unfamiliar with the massive station, as his attention had been pretty much dominated entirely by Theurgy.

“I’ll follow your lead!” he exclaimed.

Re: Day 33 [2100 hrs.] Wrong Ship, Buddy

Reply #2 – August 19, 2020, 11:08:04 AM

[PO2 T’Kolla | Deck 19 | Vector 3 | Access Corridors | USS Theurgy]^@Swift
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His blood ran through his veins while the Devore jumped back on his feet to track the spy down. The adrenaline did the rest to let him forget the pain at his side. As he slid through the hatch, he could only saw the intruder running around the corner. Another engineer laid unconscious at the side of the corridor and if Taa'gur would have had time for him he would have checked his vital signs. Unfortunately now he only had the choice to either pursue this asshead or take care of his fellow crewmember there. Imperial Rule 359: never let a fellow soldier back on the ground if there's a chance to save them. Failure will result in a death sentence. Taa'gur grinned while sprinting behind the hooded individual. Every rule resulted in a death sentence. Bureaucrats.

The Devore swung around the corner, by holding one of the pipes, to avoid slipping away on the ground. Still he almost did, which cost him further moments he needed to get this spy. Then again as he passed the corner and caught his balance again he saw that his target had way less luck than he had. Even though the most security personnel laid down on the floor, the spy apparently wasn't able to pass the last one without stumbling himself, but before the Petty Officer could possibly reach them the spy was able stand up again and before he reached the airlock the other officer, that got pushed away, already approached him. The man seemed to be a talker or at least he immediately began to chat with Taa'gur. "Sir, I haven't lost anything. I have just found that person at our phaser arrays." The Devore gave the man no time to stand and talk, he continued his pursue. If the other man wanted to talk he had to follow him.

He did and while doing so he told Taa'gur where the unknown individual was probably going to. Apparently the Human knew a little bit more about this station than Taa'gur did, which was, to put it mildly, nothing. Then again the human asked him if he would knew anything about the stations layout. A ridiculous question in Taa’gurs case. For him this station was just another place he has been in his life and since the Klingons were never one of the species he cared for he didn't remained too long aboard the shipyard.

“Sir, I guess we’ll have the best chances to get this… person, if we’ll simply chase them down.”

No matter the answer the Officer would gave, Taa’gur continued to pursue his target. He already acted more instinctive than on purpose. His last hope now was that they could get the spy before they’ll reach the more open decks of the station. A chase in a hallway was simple but a chase in a huge crowd was more like a game of hide and seek than a real hunt.

Re: Day 33 [2100 hrs.] Wrong Ship, Buddy

Reply #3 – August 23, 2020, 06:53:21 AM

[ Lt. Cmdr. Andrew Fisher | Airlock Antechamber | Aldean Shipyards ] Attn: @DaValle

Espionage. Or worse, sabotage.

That’s what this read as to Fisher, as the Petty Officer explained the circumstances that had jump-started this chase. A chase that had now inadvertently involved him as well. Another day he might have been inclined to let Security and the Weapons Technician handle their own business, but this was something that demanded his attention as well. It didn’t help that the closest Security Officers were only just now started to clamber back to their feet.

'Understood!" he answered T'Kolla.

As the Devore took off at some pace to continue the pursuit, Fisher lingered back just a moment to raise the alert of the ship, tapping the combadge hanging from his duty jacket, over the left pectoral. “Fisher to Theurgy! We have a situation unfolding aboard the Shipyard. Contact the harbor-master and alert them of an intruder of some kind. Send medical support to the Airlock on Deck 19 too.” Taking a few bounds to follow after T’Kolla, Fisher continued. “I’m proceeding on foot with Mister T’Kolla. Track our position with sensors!” With that, he picked up the pace enough to at least keep within moderate distance of the other man. Thankfully, as late as it was, there weren’t too many lingering patrons that presided throughout the promenade of the station. A few stray Klingons here and there, though they had been decidedly absent a short while ago, when he could have used their boisterous company as a distraction. Still, tracking their prey wouldn’t prove too difficult, so long as they could keep them within an eye shot. Easier said for the Devore Weapons Technician, who had a good lead on Fisher, though he was soon starting to close the distance.

“Theurgy, are sensors detecting anyone moving at speed throughout the promenade of the Shipyard?”

There was a delay, then the voice of an unknown crewman that had been working the graveyard shift on the Bridge chimed in over both Fisher and T’Kolla’s commbadges. “I’m picking up... one human, one Devore, and a third bio-signal that’s hard to decipher. It’s moving down the promenade, roughly a hundred or so meters ahead of your position. They must be wearing some form of sensor-obscuring device or garment. I’m having trouble keeping lock.”

“Understood! Track as long as you can. Keep track of Mister T’Kolla and I as well, for point of reference!”

As the duo of pursuers bounded down the wide-space that was the promenade, Fisher could make out the black-hooded individual they were after, moving at remarkable speed and deftness along the starboard side. Indeed, about a hundred meters ahead of T’Kolla, which made it something like a hundred-twenty-five for Fisher. Who were they? Who were they working for; if anyone? What had they managed to get their hands on? All relative questions that demanded answering, but they would need to wait for after capturing their prey. No easy task, given by how fluid the movements of said prey was. They were light on their feet but carried a momentum that could pack quite a wallop if focused. They were also surprisingly skilled in terms of physical combat, as they had rather easily disabled a pair of Secutiy Officers without losing much in the way of distance between themselves and their hunter. Fisher immediately found himself regretting not having brought a phaser with him, though from what he knew, weapons were prohibited aboard the shipyard.

Hopefully the one they were after had abided to such restrictions, but he had his doubts.

Re: Day 33 [2100 hrs.] Wrong Ship, Buddy

Reply #4 – August 26, 2020, 01:05:40 AM

[PO2 T’Kolla | Deck 19 | Vector 3 | Access Corridors | USS Theurgy]^@Swift
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It was good to know that there was someone that covered your back. Another pair of eyes that were scanning the crowd for this spying scum and maybe when the eventually tracked the intruder down, another pair of fist for some advanced interrogation methods. Well, but before they're able to have some fun and interrogate anything, they had to catch the spy first. An easier said than done thing to do, since the spy was despite their relatively small shape freaking strong and unbelievable fast either. Not only did they knock out some security officers with ease they also sprinted as if they were genetically enhanced. Or maybe the both Starfleet Officers were just too old to catch up with the youth nowadays.

The other Officer gave some orders to the bridge to get this individual scanned. No bad idea and even though the scanners didn't reveal anything about the spy, it still was able to help them finding the only not identifiable person at the shipyard. Though this could get handy later, but now they already had a clean view on the intruder.

Now on the promenade the so useful outfit of the intruder turned into a perfect marker for the Petty Officer to spot the spy while they made their way through the, fortunately not overcrowded, deck. Here their speed was way less important than their agility or in Taa'gurs case their brutal force if someone would stand in his way or at least somewhere he couldn't bypass easily. Fortunately the last one didn't happen so he didn't had to start a brawl with a Klingon. At least not today, but well another day another chance.

Some drunken Klingons apparently tried to stop the hooded spy which resulted in the weirdest knock out of a whole enemy group Taa’gur has seen since at least two decades. As the Klingon approacher attempted to grab the spy’s shoulder they immediately punched him right between his eyes and after less than a second another strike was placed on his throat. Surprised and also slightly dazed, the Klingon stood there stumbling till he eventually collapsed and his friends started to join the actually already finished fight. The first attacker got knocked down to the ground as the spy dodged his clumsy directed fist and ramped their right boot toward the knees of the unlucky Klingon. The man completely lost the rest of his balance and stumbled on top of his already unconscious friend on the ground. The last two were obviously trying to surround the spy and attack from two different directions at the same time. For being completely plastered that was actually not to bad and for them being Klingons it almost counted as advanced tactics. As the first started to approach the spy the other one followed him gawky. It was ridiculous to watch and every Klingon who saw them either laughed or was just ashamed to be from the same species they were. While the spy managed to avoid both of the Klingons that more or less simply fell in their direction, one of them was able to get his hands on the spy or to put it more specific on the hood of the intruder. So while he fell down on the ground he tore the hood and the attached mask with him.

In the meantime while the intruder and the Klingons were occupied fighting each other T’Kolla and Fisher were able to come significantly closer to the spy and at least the Devore was only ten or fifteen meters away as the last Klingon tore off the mask of the individual. He would have been able to help the Klingons if he hadn’t been stopped by some Aldeans who had to learn it on the painful way not to stand in his way again.

Taa’gur saw for a short time the whole face of the intruder. The long black hairs he thought to have sawn earlier when the spy beat him up were now, as he saw her in a better lighted place, actually more brown than black. And now as he was able to actually look at her without having to fear that something would fly in his direction or someone’s trying to beat him up he realized that the intruder was in fact a she. Well he may has thought that, but hadn’t yet any time to think about useless informations like the gender of the spy. As long as this information wouldn’t offer him any real tactical advantage, he wouldn’t prioritize it, but from what he had learned about the humans thus far he thought that his following Officer may had any use for this information. “Lieutenant, the spy has lost her mask and is apparently extremely dangerous in melee combat.” He assumed that Fisher has also seen what the spy did to the Klingons, but he was better safe than sorry.

OOC: Our little spy (I'm open for other "faceclaims" too, if you already had something in mind or so)
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Re: Day 33 [2100 hrs.] Wrong Ship, Buddy

Reply #5 – August 31, 2020, 10:38:04 PM

[ Lt. Cmdr. Andrew Fisher | Airlock Antechamber | Aldean Shipyards ] Attn: @DaValle

Another enigma, among what was seemingly an endless supply of them for the Chief Intelligence Officer; this latest infiltrator’s unknown nature, and the reasons behind their espionage aboard the Theurgy demanded answers. Not just of his own accord, but of the Devore Petty-Officer that was also chasing after them, a few paces ahead. As the primary weapons technician aboard the rogue starship, he would surely want to know what, if any systems may have been compromised. After all, it was his livelihood which granted Fisher, and all the rest of Theurgy’s crew a fighting chance in the face of enemies. It was reassuring then, that T’Kolla wasn’t exactly a stand-offish or reserved man in the matter. No, he was seeing to it personally, with an aggressive temperament that the CIO admired. Other officers in his position might well have been content to sit back, and let security handle such an apprehension, and investigation.

That didn’t necessarily mean that the situation was well under hand however, as their prey continued to advance with surprising momentum and alacrity, even felling a few drunken Klingons as she continued to bound forward, nearly unhindered, though her gender and some features of her face having been revealed during the altercation.

“Our tracking signal just spiked, we’re able to get a slightly more definitive lock on the subject in question!” came the voice over their commbadges, from whoever aboard Theurgy was tracking the assailant.

“It... must be some kind... of a sensor obscuring garment...” Fisher outlined in between breaths as he kept after T’Kolla.

There would have been an opportunity for an attempt at apprehension, but his fellow pursuer had encountered something of a resistance of his own, in this case a few innocent bystanders that were unfortunately unable or unwilling to steer clear of his advance. They were bounded into rather brutally, sent sprawling to the carpeted decking of the promenade. A bit of a commotion breaking out as there was an attempt to understand what had plowed through them, though Fisher hadn’t the time, nor really the care to stop and help. Best if he just kept moving on his own and let them sort out the bill without interference of a Starfleet spy. If anything, Medical and even the Diplomatic staff could handle whatever fallout came as a result T’Kolla’s and Fisher’s chase. Those departments were invariably more skilled and qualified to do so anyway.

“They can’t run forever! They’re going to try and find away off station!” Fisher reasoned, for as large as the Aldean shipyards were, they were still a confined space in which this individual was currently contained. Though, they would certainly have planned for such a likely eventuality as being caught and were in the throes of enacting the next phase of their escape attempt. Be it via transport to the surface, or aboard another ship, or perhaps they’d even had their own ship waiting to make a jump out of system. Regardless, they needed to apprehend this individual, or at least stall that attempt to truly escape. “Theurgy, have you raised the harbor-master yet? Whoever this is, they’re not going to let us chase them for much longer! We need to lock down this place, ASAP!” he commanded, though there was an audible delay from the other end of that communications channel.

“Sir, we’ve been unable to raise the harbor-master!”

"Great!" Fisher exclaimed loudly. That revelation could have meant any number of things; it could have meant that their spy had managed to disable that level of communications, or that the harbor-master was in on this scheme, or given the setting of the Aldean shipyards had simply been too drunk to even be raised. Whichever way was the reality of the situation, it put an impetus on Fisher and T’Kolla to catch this woman quickly. For his part, after the Devore had passed by the grumbling Klingons, it meant borrowing something from them, which he rather deftly managed to sneak away without immediate awareness. A Klingon Disruptor pistol, his hands immediately searching for and actuating the two-setting weapon, setting it to stun, rather than the traditional kill. The process of depressing that actuator, which was met with surprising resistance, spoke to how infrequently the Klingon that had owned it had favored such a setting. Not at all surprising when you considered Klingon culture, and their combat preferences. At least it was a stun setting, and they hadn’t relied on the old mocking adage that a Klingon’s stun setting was to smack someone over the head with the thing until they were subdued.

Raising the weapon in hand, Fisher searched for the right window to fire as he continued to trail behind T’Kolla and their prey.

Re: Day 33 [2100 hrs.] Wrong Ship, Buddy

Reply #6 – September 06, 2020, 12:15:27 PM

[PO2 T’Kolla | Deck 19 | Vector 3 | Access Corridors | USS Theurgy]^@Swift
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The duo chased the spy further down the station and Taa’gur heard briefly that the harbor-master wasn’t reachable. Seriously how was the Federation even able to consider the Klingons to be a serious thread. Their standard work moral is on the same level as their sense for art. The Devore jumped over some barrels that were laying in his way, while he scoped the surroundings for anything weapon-like. His view felt to a sharp cleaver that was ramped in a cutting board. Apparently the actual owner of the knife was currently selling one of his products and therefore not aware of the Petty Officer that simply grabbed the knife during the short time he passed the store. And while the knife was more clumsy than elegant, it would probably be enough for the Officer to deal with the intruder. The Devore asked the other man a short question. “Sir, do have any weapon ready to deal with the intruder?” He glanced briefly over his shoulder to see where his companion was. A decision he almost regretted as he almost crushed into a group of Klingons and Aldeans in his way. Another sign of his age, back in times he would never have looked back while chasing someone. Maybe he got to old for this shit or he the time in the Starfleet just made him weak. Whichever was the case he didn’t bother right now. Or at least not till he was able beat the shit out of this spy.

So while the Officers were still a good way behind the spy, both had any kind of weapon ready to deal with the situation and at least one of them has searched for something not lethal to stop the spy. This would really come in handy if they will be asked by a superior later. Not that Taa’gur was already in a situation where he had picked the excessive force variant and not the not brutal, but the poor fellow that lost both of his legs in a tragic the-doors-were-closing-surprisingly accident would probably say Taa’gur had. The spy ran around the next corner and Taa'gur almost slipped as he, without reducing his speed, tried to get around the corner too, but to their luck he saw that corridor here was a dead end. There were two smaller bars at left and one pretty shady shop to the right and in the end there was only a wall, so no matter what her plan was to come here the two Starfleet Officers did now had the option to deal with her. The corridor was almost empty, beside three or four Klingons that laid drunken on the ground there was nobody here. Fisher came around the corner after Taa’gur and the Petty Officer gave the Lieutenant a brief command. “Sir, you’re going to cover me, while I try to get the spy.” So whatever her plan was it had to happen now or she would end up in one the bricks of the Theurgy.

Re: Day 33 [2100 hrs.] Wrong Ship, Buddy

Reply #7 – September 11, 2020, 02:55:33 AM

[ Lt. Cmdr. Andrew Fisher | Promenade | Aldean Shipyards ] Attn: @DaValle

Rounding the same corner that T’Kolla and their prey had gone down, Fisher continued on likeness, also nearly losing his footing as he’d neglected to notice the same worn-out carpeting that covered the deck-plating, which had nearly felled his Devore comrade. Having bounded off of the bulkhead of the corridor with his shoulder, leaving a rather noticeable indentation upon its surface, the Chief Intelligence Officer laid sage-eyes upon the dilemma which was waiting for him at the end of this section of shipyard. A face-off would likely ensue between them, and this infiltrator; though he found himself questioning why this individual had turned down this particular corridor. Sure she would have known it was a dead-end, unless T’Kolla and Fisher’s pursuit had caused a lapse in judgment to occur within her planning. All the same, now huffing and puffing as he approached where T’Kolla stood, ready to make an attempt at apprehension, Fisher raised his ‘borrowed’ disruptor, leveling it at the girl as she turned back to face both of them.

“I’ve got... your back...” he confirmed for the other man, watching after him carefully.

There would be no hesitation from him, in that if she even blinked in a manner that Fisher didn’t like, he’d shoot first, second, and third; reserved to ask questions at a later time. For now though, however foolish it may have been, he was hoping that maybe she’d come willingly now that there was seemingly no immediate escape.

“Theurgy, we’ve got her cornered. Section...” he looked about with his peripheral vision for any kind of indication as to where they were, but he hadn’t exactly recognized anything. After all, he’d only strayed onto the promenade of the shipyard a handful of times, and it was a surprisingly large space, with any number of places to get thoroughly lost in. “...Section Nine-Nine-Zero Alpha.” He found a nearly eroded away decal painted in Klingon letters on the nearby bulkhead, and thankfully enough it was still relatively legible. However, there was a moment in which he didn’t feel overly too confident that the first two symbols were actually a pair of nines. Regardless, it was a close-enough approximation that the folks back on ship could apprise station security of the situation if they were even looking in on the matter.

Doubtful.

He could tell however, that as the woman gave Fisher and T’Kolla the proverbial once-over, that perhaps it wasn’t she who had made a wrong turn, but rather the two of her pursuers. For in her face wasn’t a look of concern, or fear at having been cornered, but rather one of supreme confidence, and maybe even a hint of playful challenge glinting in her eyes. As unease and uncertainty settled, he suddenly found himself regretting not having opted for shooting her from the onset of this showdown, because now that T’Kolla was moving in to make his play, his narrow window in terms of line of sight closed. “Something doesn’t seem right here, Mister T’Kolla!” he remarked, hoping that maybe some sense of caution might stave off the other man from his brazen attack. Lest he wind up triggering a potential trap that might have been laid in wait for them.

Re: Day 33 [2100 hrs.] Wrong Ship, Buddy

Reply #8 – September 17, 2020, 02:10:19 PM

[PO2 T’Kolla | Somewhere | Aldean Shipyard]^@Swift
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The situation was perfect for the both pursuer. A straight corridor with no seeming exit way than the one they’re coming from, they would have the upper hand in case of a direct fight and finally the Theurgy knew their position. This situation was too perfect for them too let this spy escape. With almost a smile on his face the Devore advanced towards the individual and after something like ten or fifteen meters he heard his followers concerns about this situation. Suddenly it hit the Petty Officer as well. The situation wasn’t perfect, it was too perfect. It was the blueprint of a god damned trap and he just blindly ran into it like some stupid recruits during their first fighting trainings. While Taa’gur still thought about smashing his head against the next hard object, the spy apparently stopped to even pretend to be trapped by the two Officers. She gave the, also not accidentally being there, Klingons some signs and they pulled out their own weapons. Now Taa’gur really hated himself, not only did he get trapped in such a situation, he also brought another crewmen in this too and the worst still was that he couldn’t get the spy now.

“Just to ask, you haven’t brought some sort of Gatlinggun with you?” The Petty Officer asked the other man as he watched the four Klingons aiming at both of them with small handguns and one of them even with a damned Disruptor rifle in his hands. The group surrounded them and the once being trapped spy made her way towards them. In a last attempt to find a way out of this, to put it mildly, desperate situation, Taa’gur scanned the corridor again with his eyes. Even the smallest chance was now worth a try, but with his current luck he just hoped Fisher would have any kind of plan how they could get out of here.

In the meantime the unknown spy approached them and as she eventually stood in front of them she pulled her hood off.

Re: Day 33 [2100 hrs.] Wrong Ship, Buddy

Reply #9 – September 25, 2020, 10:53:52 AM

[ Lt. Cmdr. Andrew Fisher | Promenade | Aldean Shipyards ] Attn: @DaValle

The failure to have seen such a deliberate ploy wasn’t just T’Kolla’s, but also Fisher’s. They had both wandered into a spider’s web, having let rush of adrenaline fuel, and in effect cloud their ability to think clearly or predict such an ambush. For his part, as a trained Starfleet Intelligence Officer for the better part of a decade, it was an especially egregious mistake. One that Fisher swore he would thoroughly self-admonish, if the opportunity to reflect on such a failure proved to be in the cards. As it was now however, there were no guarantees that either of them would even make it out of the room alive as their prey had the backup of a quartet of glowering Klingon warriors, each armed with a Disruptor pistol, save one who wielded a rifle variant. Their weapons trained on the pair of wayward Starfleet Officers, essentially having them in a crossfire that ensured cooperation and an acquiescence to whatever their demands might well have been. At least they had managed to keep Theurgy apprised of their location, which hopefully meant there was a chance that someone might save their asses, however unlikely a scenario that was.

“Sorry, I left that particular piece of equipment back in my quarters.” Fisher teased in turn, letting his ‘borrowed’ Disruptor-pistol drop from his hands as they went skyward in reaction to a prompt from one of the Klingons.

Yet as the hooded woman approached his Devore fellow, the spy remembered that they were still on an open-channel with Theurgy, so long as they hadn’t effectively scrambled and jammed any communication within immediate vicinity. “You’d think the two of us would have seen such an ambush coming.” He said aloud, essentially meant to apprise Theurgy of their situation. The chatter was met with a snarl from one of the Klingons as he brandished his weapon in an even more menacing manner, getting his point across in a rather succinct fashion. The simple matter of fact was, that with T’Kolla a few paces ahead of him, and their prey closing distance, Fisher was hardly in the best position to make the first move. If there was any move to be made. In his mind, he had a few ideas, but they presented a litany of problems, most notably for the man ahead of him, and for now he wasn’t ready to make such a risk. Those were last resort issuances that would come, as they might well have resulted in the rather untimely end of the Weapons technician.

Re: Day 33 [2100 hrs.] Wrong Ship, Buddy

Reply #10 – October 02, 2020, 02:23:09 PM

[PO2 T’Kolla | Aldean Shipyard | Somewhere]^@Swift
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Still holding his now even smaller appearing cleaver in his hand the Devore still tried to figure out if there’s any possible way for the both Starfleet Officers to escape this stupid situation. He’s maybe able to take care of one of the Klingons with his knife, but if he would be able to get to the next one till he would feel a stinging pain in his chest was a completely different question. The other man apparently tried to clam down either himself or the situation with some one-liners. Maybe there was also another reason for his behaviour, but Taa’gur would need to concentrate on his own problem first till he could actively take care of others. Even if this problems were basically the very same five persons surrounding them. One of those five, apparently their leader or something like this, stepped further towards the both Officers. After she took down her hood she surveyed them briefly. “So you’re the two unlucky souls that were fast enough to catch up with me. It’s almost sad to waist such potential...”

Taa’gur rolled his eyes even harder than the kick of this stupid idiot was before. Even if this would cost him his life he wouldn’t give this moron the satisfaction of having a real villain monologue. “Yeah, yeah. You’re the baddie here. I get that. What do you want now?” So that was the reason Sharn’kal has shutting her victims up. Interesting.

The spy sighed very audible when the Petty Officer interrupted her. Her former smile vanished and a more annoyed expression has taken its place. “What I wanted was aboard your ship, but now it’s more important what I can do with you both.”

Have to resist... smashing hand... against forehead.

“I guess you both just know too much.” She sighed very phoney in the end. “So any last words before I’ll tell my friends here to take care of you?” Somehow the urge in Taa’gur to snap his left hand toward his head grows even larger by every single word the woman said.

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Re: Day 33 [2100 hrs.] Wrong Ship, Buddy

Reply #11 – October 12, 2020, 08:36:21 AM

[ Lt. Cmdr. Andrew Fisher | Promenade | Aldean Shipyards ] Attn: @DaValle

The Chief Intelligence Officer’s calculating gaze trailed between each of the five assailants which he and T’Kolla had waylaid themselves into, though of course one of them in particular had stood out and demanded far closer attention. She seemed to regard the pair of Starfleet Officers with something of a regret, as it was apparent that there was to be a rather unceremonious end to both of their existences. It wasn’t the first time he’d been faced with such a prospect, and in all previous occasions he knew the importance of vying for time. “Really?” he piped up with an incredulous tone. “You were just caught trying to steal information from the most wanted starship in the Galaxy, and are still within close enough proximity that a constant threat persists, and yet you’re just going to eliminate your two best bargaining chips? Smart.” Rolling his eyes, Fisher let a little chortle of admonishment escape him. He had no idea what kind of a ploy would afford them, if anything at all, but it was still one card to be played.

Suddenly regarding Fisher with a modicum of attention, as it had mostly been transfixed on the Devore, the hooded-woman took a step closer before she tilted the pate of her head. “Excuse me?”

“Oh I’m sorry, is this your first time?” he teased.

Somewhat annoyed, she took another step closer, now just an arms reach from the left periphery of Taa’gur. “What’re you on about?” she pressed.

Peering back beyond her at her retinue of Klingons as they were brandishing their disruptors in appropriately menacing fashion, Fisher was wondering how decent their trigger discipline was. “Well, I mean was there ever any consideration in mind for the brutally harsh reaction which would be elicited from Theurgy after you dispatched a pair of their officers?” He could sense that he had garnered an increasing amount of her focus and attention. Good. Just a little more distraction and a little closer, and maybe Kolla could seize the initiative. “Beauty and brains, eh?” He pushed sarcastically, and before she would have a chance to react with any kind of retort, he continued. “You kill us. You go from a mild security concern, to a top-tier assassination priority. We don’t let scores go unsettled aboard Theurgy.” The tone in his voice suddenly reflecting that of a far more serious and genuine threat, as he was now more completely transfixed on her rather than her guards. “I doubt you make it out of system before our Intelligence Department tracks and eliminates you, and your fellows with judiciousness. Bunch of vindictive sons of bitches, that lot. But hey, if that sounds like a fun way to shuffle off your mortal coil, then by all means.”

Taking another step closer, the expression in the hooded woman’s own face had gradually shifted from one of playful annoyance, to genuine anger and contemplation of what was being relayed to her.

“Give the order.” He dared her to match his bluff.

Re: Day 33 [2100 hrs.] Wrong Ship, Buddy

Reply #12 – October 20, 2020, 01:41:23 PM

[PO2 T’Kolla | Aldean Shipyard | Somewhere]^@Swift
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Just as Taa’gur hoped the situation wouldn’t get worse the other man started to interrupt and annoy the woman as much as he did earlier. At least we’ll definitely win the pre-shooting word duel, just our luck that it doesn’t actually help eventually. But as Fisher continued his teasing of the spy, Taa’gur begun to realize what he tried to do here. But yet the individual was still too far away from either him or Fisher to grab her fast enough. Just one more step and I can show you how easily I can cut through the flesh of your throat.

But then out of a sudden Fisher shouted at spy to finally shoot them. Taa’gurs head snapped back to face the man behind him. He didn’t said anything though since he still hoped that the other Officer could lure her just a few steps further, at least if he didn’t get shoot first obviously. As Taa’gur turned his head slowly back toward the spy and her little escort he recognized that the most Klingons didn’t really react in any way toward their little chats here thus far. A most uncommon thing for Klingons to do. At least Taa’gur thought that they would be quite easily insulted, but here they stood and didn’t care a single bit about what they’ve said or did thus far. The Devore tried to figure out where exactly their focus was rested on and started to move his blade from the one hand to the other. Every time he saw that at least two of them moved their eyes slightly and adjusted their weapon stances. Obviously they did only care about the two Starfleet Officers before them and if Taa’gurs thoughts weren’t totally wrong they didn’t even understood what he, Fisher and the spay said the whole time.

“I’m really surprised. Where exactly did you find those four volunteers here for your little stand-off?” Taa’gur glanced to the spy and couldn’t hide his amusement about the situation the spy got herself into. Not only did half of the Theurgy knew where they were, no, also her escort were probably just some random Klingons she paid some bloodwine to help her here.

Re: Day 33 [2100 hrs.] Wrong Ship, Buddy

Reply #13 – October 28, 2020, 02:04:45 AM

[ Lt. Cmdr. Andrew Fisher | Promenade | Aldean Shipyards ] Attn: @DaValle

Fisher just needed their would-be captor to take a few more precious steps toward T’Kolla, then they would have a chance at turning the tide against her, and her retinue of Klingon goons. It might just buy them time to find a way out of the net in which the two Starfleet Officers had been snagged, while also granting the Security team on Theurgy the time necessary to mount some kind of intervention on their behalf. He had tried to goad her into losing focus, so that she would indeed take the bait under frustration and aggravation at having been taunted and threatened all the same. To an extent, his plow had worked as the hooded-woman had gradually closed distance with his Devore comrade, but she wasn’t yet within reach of him or the weapon which he still held in his hand. Instead, she’d stopped just one pace too far, either by incident, or purpose, meaning that if either Taa’gur or Fisher acted foolishly, her firing squad would still have clear enough line of sight to put the both of them down without much difficulty.

“Oh... now you wish to join in on this cute little attempt to dissuade me from killing the both of you?” teased the woman as she turned her lovely face toward the closer of the two Starfleet Officers. Looking back over her shoulder at the four warriors, their disruptors trained at the ready, she shrugged as way of dismissal. “They were paid well enough to do a job. Besides, Klingons are always more than willing to put down your kind. It gives them something to sing about during their next drunken stupor.” There was a truth to what she said, and it spoke to her having a better handle and understanding of the situation that either of the two men had given her the credit for. Either she really was a cut above the rest of the rabble which sought to steal tech from the pride of Starfleet, or she was exceptionally well versed at pretending the part. Regardless, it seemed like she had reached the point in which she would dispatch the pair of them and move on with herself as she turned back to face them, her lips parting as if to indeed give the order.

“You know what?!” Fisher blurted out, interrupting her before she could give such a command, and garnering her attention.

“Maybe we got off on the wrong foot here. Maybe there’s room for negotiation?”

“What could you possibly offer, that’s better than what I already have?” she retorted, reaching into her pocket to retrieve a hand-held computer device, likely similar to that of a Federation Tricorder.

“Try me. You know that Intelligence Department I threatened you with?” he hesitated a moment, letting his sage-eyes swap between her, and the four Klingons standing at the back wall, then back to her. “I’m their Chief Officer.” It wasn’t general policy to reveal his position to outsiders, let alone members of the crew, as Fisher more than appreciated his relatively unknown status and the benefits it afforded him. “That’s right. I’m the Chief Intelligence Officer for the most wanted starship in the Galaxy. Imagine what greedy little secrets are locked away within my brain, just waiting to be picked free, and sold to the highest-bidder.” He could see that the Klingons liked the sound of that, better than their current contractor did, as she had a semi-permanent scowl transfixed across her face. That was good, it meant there was a thread of discord between the two elements. “...hell, you let me live; I could care less if you killed the other fellah, but you let me live... and maybe I’ll give you information on Captain Ives, or which parts of the Klingon Empire are loyal to him?” It was that promise, which caused one of the four Klingons’ eyes to go wide in recognition of the potential reward for such a revelation.

“Silara!” came the voice of that Klingon in question. “Step aside. We’re taking the human up on his offer.”

“You what?!” She spat out, spinning round to face her retinue, and in fact doing so closing that last little bit of distance between her, and T’Kolla’s ability to reach her. It was as good an opportunity as any he recognized, and he knew that when the inevitable shooting started, he’d need to be as lucky as he was fast in order to reach some kind of cover. Taa’gur would of course be able to use her as his shield.

“Listen to me you P’takh!” she pointed at her warriors, back presented to the two Starfleet Officers.

Re: Day 33 [2100 hrs.] Wrong Ship, Buddy

Reply #14 – November 07, 2020, 12:00:21 AM

[PO2 T’Kolla | Aldean Shipyard | Somewhere]^@Swift
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Taa’gur stood there, unable to move, since he still hoped that the spy will eventually come just a little bit closer to him. The one step was all he needed, but now after he made the mistake of mentioning the other Klingons her attention was right back on him. He couldn’t even say why he had the urge of asking her that question again, but it didn’t matter as his partner already used the new information against her. His diversion was again pretty smooth and fast as he convinced the escort of the spy to better let him stay alive and just use him as a source of information. One comment of him though caught more of Taa’gurs attention than he should have paid to it. The simple sidenote of killing Taa’gur. Actually it wasn’t the fact that Fisher has said that they should kill him, it was the fact that Taa’gurs knowledge could get as problematic for the Theurgy as Fishers. While he maybe didn’t has the same Intel about the Captain, he still knew enough about the ship already that it would make any battle more than short if their enemies would knew it as well. Anyway his comrade was already revealing his position to the spy, so there wasn’t any further need for him to give them any other thing to think about. Their brains would anyhow melt down if they would have to think about more than one problem at the same time.

After some more moments the situation escalated quickly as the spy lost the control about her little helpers. In the resulting mess Silara, the name of the spy, made the mistake of stepping one little bit too close toward the Devore. Taa’gurs next move was an all or nothing action. With all the speed he could afford stormed the Devore forward to grab Silara by her weapon arm. At least this was his plan, but despite his effort he couldn’t grab the right arm. Instead he ended up by holding her other arm behind her back and pressing the cleaver against her throat. In a last attempt to correct his mistake he let the knife fall from his hand and stroke in the same moment on her wrist to free the gun. It succeeded and the Devore grabbed the weapon fast enough.

With the gun now pressed at her back and her left arm hold tight by Taa’gur the Petty Officer glanced to the four other problems they were facing. All of them aiming with their weapons straight toward either him or Fisher. Not a problem for Taa’gur since he was behind a living shield and had literally no regards of letting her get shoot in this skirmish, but his comrade was in a slightly different situation.

Before the Klingons would start to fire though he tried to convince them of the futility of their fight. “First shot will kill you.” He whispered in Silaras ears, then he directed his words clearly towards he Klingons. “If you give up, I’m sure the captain will show mer...”

“Shut your nuj, Human.” Came the response of one of them, while another one yelled at them. “You’re not important. The other man is.”

“You’re very rude, gentlemen. I wasn’t offering you the mercy of saving your life rather than safety from me and what I would do with you. I’m not a human, as you wrongly predicated. I’m a Devore and we are definitely not human in the way we treat our foes.”

The only reason Taa’gur told them so much about him was to make sure Fisher would have enough time to get himself some cover as long as their attention was still on the man who talk to them.

Re: Day 33 [2100 hrs.] Wrong Ship, Buddy

Reply #15 – November 15, 2020, 05:17:38 AM

[ Lt. Cmdr. Andrew Fisher | Promenade | Aldean Shipyards ] Attn: @DaValle

There were always going to be blind bluffs that one had to make when going through these kinds of situations; where you were counting on the other party hesitating for even just a split second on whether or not they would call. It was all part of the gambit, and in this case, Fisher’s assumptions that the Klingons would consider their options prior to offing his Devore comrade had proven right. And sure enough, he had enticed their interest in such a manner that it prompted a predictable betrayal of their hooded employer, who in turn lost her composure and stepped within reach of a ready to pounce Taa’gur. The deftness of movement was a little surprising to Fisher, who hadn’t necessarily underestimated the capabilities of the Weapons Technician, but all the same hadn’t expected such fluid and decisive movement. Clearly the man was more than the sum of his service jacket. Regardless, the move to grab a hold of their hooded ‘friend’ meant that Fisher needed to dive for cover.

And dive he did.

While T’Kolla had managed to stall the Klingon retinue from immediately opening fire thanks to some of his own prudent bluffing, increasing the window of time that the Chief Intelligence Officer had to find safe harbor, it was still finite. With the momentary distraction provided, Fisher bolted for and lunged over the countertop of one of the food stalls that ran alongside this particular section of the Promenade. He had just barely managed to clear the surface, and duck down behind it when two of the Klingons to Taa’gur’s left pointed their disruptors in Fisher’s direction and opened fire with a volley of green energy pulses in an attempt to drop the fleeing man. The disruptor bolts splashed against the counter, punching out a number of two-inch wide holes that sprayed Fisher with charred wood splinters, though thankfully none managed to pierce his duty jacket. As he covered his head out of instinct, Fisher scrambled for anything he could likewise use as a weapon.

“Qul ‘uch!” barked the lead Klingon at his two fellows, and the firing stopped almost as quickly as it had started.

With an annoyed sneer, the hooded woman, previously identified as ‘Silara’ fidgeted against Taa’gur’s dominating hold of her as she looked with utter contempt at the four Klingons, she had hired to do her bidding. “You idiots!” Knowing not to press her luck, since the Devore had her well within his control, and taking his promise of being less than human with regard to how he would treat his foes, Silara rolled her blue-eyes about as she knew she would have to resort to far more devious means in order to get through this situation now that loyalties had split. “Listen, handsome. Obviously, I made the mistake of counting on these morons. You, however, seem to be far more cunning. You wouldn’t by any chance be interested in a job? Make a little latinum. Maybe some side benefits too?” The aggressively flirty tone of voice and how she nestled herself alluringly against Taa’gur spoke to how she was trying to lessen the Devore’s defenses with her feminine wiles, if even for just a second.

Listening to it all from where he had sought cover, Fisher could sense something amiss. That there was something else at play, and before he could peek out and see what was going on, his suspicions were proven as one of the Klingons, the one wielding a disruptor-rifle rather than pistol, turned on his fellows in an blur of activity. Firing his weapon at the two that had previously shot at Fisher, they were vaporized in a flash of green energy, while he simultaneously pulled and threw his d’k tahg at the third and apparent leader of the retinue. The instant the blade struck home, burying itself four-inches deep into the side of his companion’s skull, he re-raised his rifle at Fisher and began suppressive firing. At the exact moment, Silara fidgeted in just the right way to actuate a self-defense matrix from somewhere on her person, sending a surge of electrical energy throughout her body. The surge would shock her causing a complete seizure of muscle control, just as it would anyone still holding onto her, though it also had the unintended consequence of causing her to drop the data-computer that she had stored all of her stolen Theurgy information on.

“Energize!” barked the only still standing Klingon, and in a haze of ruby swirling energy he and Silara began to dematerialize as someone sought to beam the pair of them away.

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Re: Day 33 [2100 hrs.] Wrong Ship, Buddy

Reply #16 – December 08, 2020, 01:12:56 AM

[PO2 T’Kolla | Aldean Shipyard | Somewhere] @Swift
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Generally speaking Taa’gur hasn’t been in a situation like this for roughly ten years now. Especially not in one where he did took the hostage, but it seemed like you could never forget how to keep them under control. His companion was able to get in cover as well and now Taa’gur was witnessing one of the weirdest shifts of powers he has seen for a long time. First the Klingons started to shoot at the cover of Fisher and if T’Kolla wasn’t mistaken that cover proved to be so infective that he was actually just alive due to the Klingons bad aim. The group had some kind of dispute and Taa’gurs shield stretched her luck at the end of his weapon.

“Listen you’re as much worth to me as your body will be able to absorb bullets. Oh and I probably don’t have to mention that your body can do this living… or not.” And with the last words whispered in her ear he drilled the weapon even further in Silaras in back. It was funny how sometimes the easiest tricks he learned at the imperial interrogating program proved to be helpful in his life.

His win now didn’t last for long though. Just a few moments later one of the Klingons betrayed the rest and started to shoot at Fishers location. Taa’gur nonetheless didn’t recognized that as he himself had to fight off the consequences of an incredible high amount of energy that had passed through his body. The pain wasn’t tough but his muscles reacted to the electric signals as if his brain would have ordered them to dance. Unable to do anything against it he fell to the side as did his former hostage. After some more moments Taa’gur came back and just saw how the two hostiles beamed away. At least he also saw a data-computer that Silara has left behind in her improvised escape. Stumbling back on his feet with some of the toughest headaches he had since he finished his official Starfleet training. Weird how the humans try to actively destroy the best days of their live with alcohol. He picked up the computer and looked for Fisher till the remaining reinforces appeared.

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Re: Day 33 [2100 hrs.] Wrong Ship, Buddy

Reply #17 – January 20, 2021, 08:50:02 PM

[ Lt. Cmdr. Andrew Fisher | Promenade | Aldean Shipyards ] Attn: @DaValle

Arriving exactly a moment later than they would have likely been of any use, several members of Theurgy’s security team rounded the corner which had led down into this dead-ended corridor of the Promenade, compression rifles in hand and at the ready. So it was with a scoff, that upon witnessing them move about and clear the area of danger, that Fisher emerged from behind the counter in which he had sought cover. Watching as the team went about checking on the Klingon corpses left behind, he stepped out into the open area and appraised the weapons technician with a nod of approval. After all, though Silara had managed to ultimately escape their clutches, she hadn’t done so without leaving behind the data that she had been attempting to steal from Theurgy in the first place. Call it a stalemate, they had ensured that the security of their starship, and in effect the grander Federation hadn’t been compromised by a spy, and Fisher knew that in this sort of a game, a stalemate was often a preferable outcome.

“Nicely done, Mister Kolla.” He complimented as he peered about their surroundings, finding the Klingon Disruptor he had borrowed, and been forced to discard moments earlier. He had half a mind to return it to the warrior he had pilfered it from, but checked the thought, and instead opted to slip it under his duty jacket for use during future missions. Non-Starfleet equipment often served a valuable purpose in his line of work, and he figured the warrior who’d lost it would simply replace it with another.

“I can appreciate a man who doesn’t just let something like this go on without interfering. It’s likely that had you left this matter up to security, the situation would have ended with the girl getting away with the goods too.” Patting him on the shoulder as a token, he began making his way back to Theurgy. “Who knows, we may yet have another chance at getting her. Regardless, we stopped her today.” Spinning back as he neared the doorway which led back into the grander more open promenade, he pointed at a member of the security team. “Make sure you guys inform station control of the dead.” His gaze going back to his devore comrade, he nodded once more. “I’ll make sure to file a report with the Captain, and that he is duly appraised of your efforts, Petty Officer. Until next time!” With that he rounded the corner and returned to the starship with the intent of filling out said report, and lauding Taa’gur with the appropriate amount of credit he was due for having stopped a spy and her attempt to steal information from Theurgy. Again, even if some might have considered the final outcome a stalemate, Fisher was willing to bet that the Captain would view it with positivity.

And these days, every little positive outcome, even one that was technically neutral, was something worth note.

~FIN~