Episode 2 Chapter Two: Objectives Joint Post

This is a wiki page dedicated to the Joint-Post writing of Chapter Two in Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative.

Writers will find the objective(s) they've opted to describe/document achieving on this page and will have until a set date to write In-Character segments. This setup will increase the pace and alacrity at which this epic multi-vector episode is depicted.

Rules:

• The order of the slots has been inputted according to the Cosmic Imperative calendar of events.
• The chapter GM will "fluff" and weave the individual posts once all the objectives have been depicted.
• Write as much as you like and use as many NPC's as you like. Just remember that if you choose to kill off an NPC, the same rules apply here as in regular threads: get permission from GM first and, after the fact, update that NPC's wiki page to show the deceased.
• Once all the objectives have been written, the GM will alert chapter writers and they will then have the opportunity to look back through the objectives they did NOT write to and add in In-characters thoughts/responses to that objective if they feel so inspired
• Continual corrections and edits are encouraged to allow for a better flow.

Any continuity errors and discrepancies will be sorted out after the ending date and before the JP is posted in Chapter One, Episode 02. The GM will handle any latent formatting issues and conversion from wiki markup to forum BBC code before posting.

Arrive at the Romulan Carrier

Now that the ship is fixed, if only temporarily, this objective will detail arriving at the carrier and all the diplomatic and/or dicey intricacies of the approach and maintaining position in order to carry out the mission. Take creative license for detailing the good, the bad, and the ugly of this sort of cold war era level of hostilities meeting between Theurgy and the Romulans.

Joshs1000

[Cmdr. (3rd) Hassar al-Zaheer | VIP Guest Quarters | Deck 12 | Vector 2] ATTN: @Brutus, @Nolan, @Havenborn, @chXinya, @RyeTanker, @Nero, @Number6, @Pierce, @Ellen Fitz, @Dumedion, @tongieboi, @rae

The gentle slow inhale and exhale of his breathing provided great solace to Hassar, perhaps there was nothing more relaxing to him than an hour of silent meditation. A bit of time to relax his body, organize his thoughts, and relieve a little stress; it allowed him to start his day with a more clear head and the Aspects of his mind, body, and soul balanced in accordance with his spiritual beliefs. He had been relying on his meditation for some time now, ever since his son was kidnapped from the Ibn Lau without a trace, and while he knew until anything was found he should not give up hope or give into stress, it was natural for any parent to be consumed in the despair of their child going missing and existing in the void of not knowing if they are alive or dead. But when it seemed all was lost a small ray of hope emerged, the USS Theurgy and her crew, fighting to defeat a threat to not just the Federation but to all nations in the galaxy, the Infested. Perhaps they were the ones behind the kidnapping, it was difficult to say, but now Hassar had the resources of one of the most advanced Starfleet ships in service, a far cry from his three hundred year old frigate and the limited upgrades provided by their Klingon allies.

Speaking of that contrast, Hassar, his meditation finished for the time being, opened his green eyes to gaze once more upon his current living situation. Lavishly appointed VIP quarters, well lavish by Vaharran standards. The bedroom of these quarters which contained a large comfortable bed was only slightly smaller than the entirety of his own commanding officer’s quarters on the Xebrek, which itself was considered the largest quarters on that ship. Here the quarters were spacious with great windows that looked out into the great beyond of space, a private sitting room, a private workstation and study, and a large well appointed bathroom. The living arrangements were however, quiet, too quiet, just a gentle hum of the warp core and perhaps a hushed beep from the computer compared to the sounds of the Vaharran ships he had grown up on and lived on. The whir of ventilation fans, the whooshing of water through pipes, the groans of the hull, the sound of boots on the metal decks, and the muffled tones of Vaharrans living their lives. Compared to that, the silence that Hassar was exposed to aboard the Starfleet ships he had voyaged on was profound, practically deafening, but in time, perhaps a week or two he would grow accustomed to it and sleep would be easier to achieve.

With his meditation complete, Hassar rose to his feet, relaxed and ready to start the day, though unsure exactly what his day would entail. Normally he would get washed, dressed, and be on his way to a morning briefing but now he was a guest on Theurgy and had no responsibilities except for the contingent of Marines he brought with him. An odd place to find himself for sure, but either way he still needed to get cleaned up, dressed and start his day. He padded his way to the bathroom, stripping off his onaka, a simple linen undergarment for modesty. Normally he would have meditated naked but uncertain if he would be interrupted by a Starfleet crewmember he figured it would be best to wear the traditional piece of clothing. He always found the sonic showers that Starfleet used to be uncomfortable so used the regular shower feature. He wouldn’t shower for long, just enough to freshen up and wash off the markings he painted on his body as part of the meditation ritual. Once he was out of the shower and dried he brushed his teeth, groomed his beard then retrieved his Arosan uniform, putting it on over his muscular form. Hassar always took great care to always ensure he was well groomed and his uniform sharp before going on duty, or whatever he would be doing aboard Theurgy. To him it showed discipline and dedication, he expected similar care taken by those under his command.

After a stop by the replicator for a cup of strong morning tea and a meat filled pastry called an aakun, luckily the ship’s computer had a couple Vaharran dishes in its memory banks, and he was out the door and off to see where the day would take him. As he walked down the corridor he took a moment to appreciate the hot food and beverage in his hands, he was no stranger to replicators, but the idea of having whatever food he could have wanted with but a voice command during the years of constant food shortages in The Fleet was pure fantasy. As he enjoyed his breakfast, Hassar walked to the turbolift. He would check on his Marines later, but first he would head up to the bridge in search of Commander Cross, the acting commander of the vessel, to see if there was anything he or his fellow Vaharrans could assist with for the time being.

[CPO Avandar Lok | Fighter Bay Operations Office | Deck 16 | Vector 2]

Lok downed his third cup of coffee of the morning, his head still pounding and his stomach still queasy from the night before. He had taken to knocking back several bottles of Romulan Ale to drown his sorrows and perhaps force himself to sleep, though he doesn’t remember how many bottles it was in the end or how he got back to his quarters or who threw up in the bathroom sink. But he wasn’t going to let a hangover get in the way of doing his job, he also didn’t want to bother that handsome Doctor Leux anymore than he already had, so it was coffee, water and physical exertion to work it out of his system in a few hours. Having a Kzinti circulatory system had its advantages.

He looked down at the orderly row of PADDs in front of him, duty rosters, space craft statuses, orders of the day. Normally he would prepare these and hand them off to Mister Herrold, but the Chief of the Deck had stayed up late to repair some damaged fighters from a run in with some space probe the day before. So while the Ensign rested up, Lok was in charge for a couple hours, or if anything happened. The ship was on alert now that they had officially entered Romulan Space and as such the fighter squadrons might be needed at a moment's notice. To accomplish this, Lok, before diving into the morning’s paperwork, had tasked the deck gangs to run the pre-flight checks on all the fighters while they were still parked, prep all ordnance packages, and spot a pair of alert fighters on the deck. If things went down all they would need to do was spot the remainder, get them armed, and off to kick some ass in less than a few minutes.

Satisfied that the morning reporting was done, Lok set the PADDs aside, they would be given to Flight Ops at the next watch change, and headed out onto the flight deck, fresh cup of coffee in hand. The place was a delightful hum of activity, it reminded him of the war, always ready for action, though back then a lot of this stuff was still pretty new.

“Hey Chief”, called out a Andorian crewman as he ran over, “we got Janus’s fighter patched up, but would you be able to double check the starboard warp coils, they were a little finicky replacing.”

“Yeah sure thing, I got to go over these pre-flights for Wolf’s 4 and 10 then I’ll be right there”, he responded with his usual smile, trying his best to not hint at his self inflicted headache and nausea. After departing the crewman he continued over to the awaiting fighters, keeping his head on a swivel in the event any of the pilots made an appearance with some request or another, with time to prepare for a possible battle there was sure to be one or two.

Getting Romulan operative off carrier

Referring to the senior staff meeting joint post for names and details, this objective should showcase the creative and (hopefully) effective way the crew is able to locate and save the Romulan operative before he is assassinated. Again, creative build-up of in-game canon is always encouraged and welcomed, and if you have questions or ideas you'd like to run by the GM, reach out via PM/DM.

Writer Name (replace with writer's name)

[Regular Character Tag | Location Detail | Location Detail] ATTN: tag all chapter writers

WRITE POST HERE FROM YOUR CHARACTER'S POV ONLY AND UTILIZING NPCS

Travel back to Helmet dealing with unfriendlies

There is no feasible way that our characters were able to meet and "greet" with a Romulan carrier and travel back to the Triangle without some unfriendlies on their tails. These unfriendlies can come from nearby patrols or even from Romulus. They can be whatever class fighters/ships you'd like, and as with all the objectives, wreck and maim and kill as you see fit. Just give a heads-up to the GM and update the wiki pages accordingly.

Writer Name (replace with writer's name)

[Regular Character Tag | Location Detail | Location Detail] ATTN: tag all chapter writers

WRITE POST HERE FROM YOUR CHARACTER'S POV ONLY AND UTILIZING NPCS

Fix the Ship 2.0

As if having unfriendlies hounding you wasn't enough, the slipstream drive tanks and must be fixed again. Damage, maim, kill as you see fit just the same rules apply as in-game, give the GM a heads up and update wiki pages accordingly.

Writer Name (replace with writer's name)

[Regular Character Tag | Location Detail | Location Detail] ATTN: tag all chapter writers

WRITE POST HERE FROM YOUR CHARACTER'S POV ONLY AND UTILIZING NPCS

Arrive at Triangle in time for epic battle

After a harrowing journey with unfriendlies on tail, this objective can be perfect for recapping all the losses, personal or professional, as well as all the gains made in the duration of the chapter. Details on damages, injuries, fallen comrades, as well as new hopes/fears, are also good for this objective. Approach it as you like, just end the objective with the chapter characters arriving at the Triangle and alerting those on the Helmet of their arrival.

Ellen Fitz

[Cmdr. Cross | Battle Bridge | V. 2 | Deck 8 | The Ranger ] ATTN: @Brutus @Pierce @number6 @Nolan @rae @Dumedion @Havenborn @Krajin @Rye Tanker @tongieboi @joshs100 @Relatively Insane @chinxya

Acceptable losses.

• Lieutenant Jonathan Bryne - Killed in Action
• Lieutenant RraHnam - grievously injured, required stasis chamber
• Lieutenant Junior Grade Evelyn Rawley - Killed in Action
• Lieutenant Talera Emlott - Killed in Action
• Ensign Sarah Bjorge - grievously injured, required stasis chamber
• Ensign Liam Herrold - Killed in Action

Acceptable losses.

This was a phrase Star Fleet officers commonly used when assessing a mission before conducting it, and then IF the mission was a success, they used the term again for any loss in the process. It was a fucking miserable phrase that carried heavy connotations with it regardless of if used before or after a mission.

“Sir,” Cross looked up from the PADD he’d been studying with the list of those so-called ‘acceptable losses’ they’d incurred thus far, “sensors showed a temporal anomaly just a moment ago. Originating from within the ship.”

[ Cross to Hebert. ] His head hurt as he activated the comm badge. If he never had to deal with the USS Relativity and anything remotely related to time travel ever again, Cross would be a happy man. [ Status on our guest? ]

A moment passed before Lieutenant Junior Grade Hebert of Intelligence responded. [ Gone, sir. Is that a problem? ]

Cross shook his head. [ No, carry on. ]

No longer having the temporal agent onboard brought with it only a moment’s relief before another alert broadsided the Vulcan.

“Sir, we’re approaching the Triangle.” From the woman’s tone of voice, announcing their soon arrival at their much sought-after destination wasn’t the only thing she had to share. “Scanners are picking up weapon’s fire.”

Acceptable losses.

Cross inwardly cursed, realizing they were likely about to add to the list he’d just been reading over. Considering the harrowing journey they’d just completed, running from the Romulan carrier after extracting Revad, dealing with the hit-and-run tactics of the warbirds as they fled, especially vulnerable with the drive cut out, again, he couldn’t help but wonder if the Ranger would even be able to reconnect with the Helmet if they were to survive this next battle. They’d taken damage on multiple decks, suffered multiple losses, and were already operating at less than peak efficiency. Whatever it was they were about to face, Cross hoped to hell the others had already returned; otherwise, this could be their last battle.

[ All hands, battle stations. ] Cross grimly nodded to himself as they careened into the Triangle, courageously facing down whatever it was lying in wait for them.

FIN (potentially for the thread since we'll be picking up in the battle sequence altogether?)