Star Trek: The New Adventures (IC Thread)

[Screech]

Marjia let herself smile wryly. This human would be worth keeping an eye on. At least for his wits. "Quite correct, Lieutenant." She was about to rail off a witty response of her own when the door hissed open, and someone walked in, before stopping just behind her

“Lt. Jace, you will find the first security shift personnel log and duties in the computer"

Marjia looked back over her shoulder, and saw the origin of the voice. It was that Borg

"There is also a deficiency in accessible defense weapons between cargo bays three and four. Please see to it that a phaser locker is installed before we leave McKinley station. Lt. Commander Orsoth, when you are finished here, I need to speak with you about increasing the interior force field strength around engineering and the bridge.”

She inclined her head slightly. "Of course I shouldn't be too long, Commander" She then returned her attention to Lt. Jace and the broken relicator. Moving over to it, he put her kit down, and removed a panel from the wall. A couple of seconds of looking around at the wiring told her that whoever had installed this particular system had been very, very sloppy "I'm an engineer, not a doctor, but I think I see the problem" She smiled again as she gestured to the drink "However, I don't think your patient is going to last the night" Grabbing a phase decoupler and a hyperspanner, she got to work on the malfunctioning machine

 

[MilkManDan007]

Emma Watkins

Emma Watkins spent much of her first two days aboard the Arizona familiarizing herself with Sick Bay and the staff assigned to her. She hung up two small paintings in her office that her sister Rebecca had painted and called her office complete for now. The ship was preparing to depart, and she knew that everyone would be at their stations and healthy, a perfect time for her to explore the ship.

She began to wander the decks, taking in those around her and keeping the broad smile fixed on her face. She had reviewed the crew manifests, making sure to have the necessary supplies beamed aboard for the more exotic crewmen including Triptacederine, a high-potency anesthetic for Cardassians, and Psilosynine, a neural stabilizer chemical for Betazoids in addition to a few extra stores of the usual medicines, just in case.

She walked the ship for nearly an hour, trying to take in as much of the ship as possible until she came across the lounge in the forward part of the ship. The lounge was mostly empty, save for a green-skinned woman intently studying a PADD. Emma walked in and took a seat at the bar close to the woman.

“Hi there!” she said in her usual bubbly voice. “I’m Emma Watkins, the new Chief Medical Officer. And you must be Ryika Thompson.”

She extended her hand out to the woman as she turned.

“I’m glad we finally got to meet. I’ve heard more than a few people talking about you since I got here.”

 

[AmenRa]

Command Information Center

It had been called 'the bridge' in so many incarnations of starship and naval vessel before.

Even before, during the time of sailing vessels, the bridge had been where command was held.

In the actual, technical terminology of Starfleet Command, 'the bridge' was officially called the Command Information Center, or CIC. It had been derived from an old Terran naval submersible nomenclature designating the Combat Information Center.

All it really meant was Arizona was a ship of war.

When the turbo lift doors swished opened, Captain Harper stepped onto the bridge (he called it that, because that's what his captains had called it - and he was pretty damn sure Jim Kirk had called it that..and if Jim Kirk called it that, then that is what it was!). He noticed his new XO sitting in the conn chair, and ship's Operations Officer standing with her. Lt. Reeve looked up from his console for just an instant.

"Captain on the bridge," he said, then went back to work.

Harper walked over to his chair, issuing orders to Commander Raan before she had a chance to relinquish the conn. He was loud enough that the bridge crew in general could hear, for there were important orders that many would need to carry out.

"XO," he said to her, "inform the crew to man their stations. Begin pre-departure logs and checklist."

"Mr. Torres," Harper said, "welcome aboard. Secure all engineering and tactical simulation reports and address any discrepancies."

Harper stood in the center of the bridge. He looked around the room. Displays hummed with information, and he could feel the subtle vibration of the artificial gravity deckplates beneath his feet.

"Inform the dockmaster Arizona requests departure clearance in one hour," Harper said. Then his comm badge chirped, and Nine of Nineteen's message came through.

"Acknowledged," he answered, "report to my Ready Room." He then turned to Commander Raan. "I'd like you there as well. You will find this interesting I'm sure."

"Mr Torres," Harper said to the Operations Officer, "in case you get any ideas about sitting in that center chair while we are in this meeting, don't. I'd like you to attend."

Harper turned to leave. He then half-turned. "Mr. Reeve, you have the conn."

Reeve didn't even look up from his console where he was inputting the last of warp flight simulation trajectories. "Aye, sir," he replied.

 

[MilkManDan007]

Nine of Nineteen

The response came quickly.

“Acknowledged, please report to my ready room.”

Nine stood and passed by Lt. Jace’s office on his way to the turbolift, the woman now digging through the replicator control panel underneath the materialization platform. Perhaps he had been too quick to judge the Lieutenant.

The turbolift sped Nine to his destination and he stepped onto the bridge, uttering only “As you were,” to the bridge staff not already in the Captain’s Ready Room. He stepped through the doors and took one sidestep, standing just inside and to the left of the door. The Captain, Commander Raan, and Lt. Commander Torres were already present. Nine of Nineteen said nothing, but simply nodded to those present to acknowledge his presence in the room.

He really didn’t have to say anything. Everyone noticed when a Borg walked into a room, even if he was a member of the crew.

 

[LuckyVic]

Lt. Commander Torres- Bridge

The smile metamorphosed slightly, became less faint, more wry. "So. Since I'm neither a male 'sir' nor a married 'ma'am,' I'll defer to the preferences of a certain Admiral Janeway. You can call me 'Commander,' Mister Torres. And I'll just call you 'Chief.' Copasetic?"

Miguel was about to make a remark about not wanting to confuse the lower ranks by having them think he was an enlisted man instead of an officer. But fortune probably smiled on him when the Captain stepped onto the bridge.

"XO," he said to her, "inform the crew to man their stations. Begin pre-departure logs and checklist."

"Mr. Torres," Harper said, "welcome aboard. Secure all engineering and tactical simulation reports and address any discrepancies."

Harper stood in the center of the bridge. He looked around the room. Displays hummed with information, and he could feel the subtle vibration of the artificial gravity deckplates beneath his feet.

"Inform the dockmaster Arizona requests departure clearance in one hour," Harper said. Then his comm badge chirped, and Nine of Nineteen's message came through.

"Acknowledged," he answered, "report to my Ready Room." He then turned to Commander Raan. "I'd like you there as well. You will find this interesting I'm sure."

"Mr Torres," Harper said to the Operations Officer, "in case you get any ideas about sitting in that center chair while we are in this meeting, don't. I'd like you to attend."

Harper turned to leave. He then half-turned. "Mr. Reeve, you have the conn."

Reeve didn't even look up from his console where he was inputting the last of warp flight simulation trajectories. "Aye, sir," he replied.

"Aye sir." was all that Miguel said. He then began to follow the Captain and the XO to the ready room for this meeting. It probably had to do with the nature of their mission. During his final brief at command they said that the Captain would inform them of their first mission once on board ship. Maybe Captain Harper was just waiting for all his senior staff to arrive.

Either way at least it was good that the meeting was happening now and not later. It would give him the chance to prepare for whatever laid ahead. The funny thing about that was that he believe you could never really be prepared for everything. And life always had away of throwing little or huge surprises at you when you least expected it.

 

[Wyldfire]

The woman that entered the lounge almost surprised Ryika as she offered her hand. “Hi there!” she said in a bubbly voice. “I’m Emma Watkins, the new Chief Medical Officer. And you must be Ryika Thompson.”

“I’m glad we finally got to meet. I’ve heard more than a few people talking about you since I got here.”

Ryika turned with a smile of her own on her face. Nothing to extreme or emotional but a cheerful smile, one any bartender would give a new customer. Taking her hand and giving it a shake, "You've found me out," she said with only a slight purr, "It's a pleasure to meet you Ms. Watkins, or might I call you Emma? And what might your pleasure be? I have a wide variety of the finest drinks in the quadrant. Or might you be interested in a light snack?"

She couldn't help but wonder about the last part of the introduction so she decided to take it as a straight statement, "Oh really, and what pray tell have they been saying about me?" She turned up the level on her smile just a touch, making it more of a predatory expression.

 

[subxboi]

....It was time.

Having gone over as many things as he could, it was difficult to resist the temptation to sit in the chair of Chief Engineer, but...Tapping on the console, leaning over his own chair at the position of 'assistant chief engineer'. He hated the thought, the title, but was proud of it nonetheless. He'd be the Chief on a ship in no time if he performed well for certain-- Or such was his hope.

Brows furrowed in concentration apart from his perturbed mood, he stops and adjusts his uniform a bit, standing straight and quite tall and cocking his head this way and that, a few errant strands of hair escaping onto the sides of his face. This was his job- "To take care of things while the Chief is off harassing someone, no doubt..." he murmured quietly to himself. As the antigravity whirs on beneath the decks, Emerson adjusted the EPS meticulously, balancing the plasma current to handle the running of the extra generators.

"Just an hour and already they'd be lost without me..! Hmph!"

Though it irritated him at present, considering that it was nearly time for departure, it sort of suited him to be the only crewman in Main. Technically, he wasn't even supposed to be on duty for another couple of hours.

 

[MilkManDan007]

Emma Watkins

Ryika turned and returned both smile and handshake.

“You’ve found me out,” she said playfully, almost as if she wanted to be found. She offered a drink, which Emma was more than eager to take.

“As long as I’m not in uniform, it’s Emma,” she said back, leaning forward lightly on the bar. “I’d love a peach tea and a real blueberry muffin, if you happen to have one stashed away back there somewhere. I know, I know, the replicators make a good muffin, but nothing beats the taste of real berries.”

She glanced around the lounge, noting the lack of company. So goes it on a first flight; everyone at their stations or preparing for their first shift. Emma was not one to sit still. She had to be up and about, always getting her hands into something.

Ryika leaned in towards her, her smile sharply upturned at the end as she set the PADD down on the bar.

“Oh, really? And what, pray tell, have they been saying about me?

Emma met her gaze and returned the wide smile.

“As an Orion, I’m sure you’re used to the little comments and snickers, but there is one corpsman in sick bay that plans on spending as much time here as he can. From what I can tell, he’s quite taken with you.

She leaned back slightly and laughed.

“But you know men. They always want the things that they know they can’t have.”

 

[ChasNicollette]

"Only an Ocean Away."

[ Kahlest Raan - Commander, XO - Bridge, en route to Ready Room ]

What might have been an intriguing conversation about boundaries and nomenclature found itself unfortunately cut short. But that was all right. They had the whole voyage to figure out what they were going to call each other, be they terms of endearment or wicked barbs, not all of that needed to be figured out in the first conversation.

The captain returned, and Reeve-- attentive as well as talkative, apparently --delivered the news that all should stand alert.

Kahlest rose immediately to her feet, tucking that PADD under her arm, and her remark-- 'Just keeping it warm for you, sir,' --died aborning on her lips. Captain Harper had his proverbial game face on. Time to get a move on.

"XO," he said to her, "inform the crew to man their stations. Begin pre-departure logs and checklist."

"Aye, Captain," she nodded, quick-sharp.

Standing by the man's chair, she leaned over and tapped one of the armrest controls, quickly finding the ship's intercom and keying it open.

"Ladies and gentlemen, hermaphrodites and androgynes and all variations of gender over sea and under stars," she intoned, with a mix of benedictory reverence and peremptory declaration, "this is Commander Raan, sounding flight quarters. I repeat, we are sounding flight quarters, all hands to your stations, all ashore who's going ashore. Wheels up in sixty, people. We've got a date with Everywhere, and we don't want to be late."

Closing the channel with another tap of the key, she instead half-glanced at the ceiling. "Computer, commence automated pre-flight checklist, co-ordinate and crossref all personnel-initiated diagnostics and feed pertinent data-- to wit: green lights and red flags --to my PADD."

"Commencing," the computer replied, tones crisp and not unlovely.

As always, Kahlest had to resist the urge to tell the female voice 'thank you.'

She wasn't sure if the captain had told herself or Lieutenant Commander Torres to inform the dockmaster, but she decided she'd err on the side of initiative. If she were treading on toes, she'd apologise later-- and apologise sincerely --but for now?

Was it a Klingon or a Human proverb that declared it was more efficient to ask for forgiveness than permission? It sounded pretty Klingon.

As she made for the Ready Room with the captain and the chief, she tapped her commbadge, heard the telltale chirp. "Arizona to Dockmaster."

'This is Dockmaster Control; go ahead, Arizona.'

"Captain Harper," Kahlest intoned, politely but crisply, "requests departure clearance in one hour. Help us on our way?"

'Consider your lines cast off,' the dockmaster replied, breezily but efficiently, 'and your anchors weighed, Arizona.'

This time, she did express gratitude. "Thank you, Dockmaster."

Apparently this particular flight controller had a wit about him: 'Qapla', Arizona.'

Kahlest grinned a beaming grin, she couldn't resist, and the grin, all delight and Good Hunting, was audible in her own voice as she replied: "Qapla'. Out."

She tapped her commbadge, signing off, and she slipped through the doors of the captain's Ready Room and they left CIC in Lieutenant Reeve's attentive hands.

There was not long of a wait, as Nine of Nineteen was evidently as expedient in moving from place to place as he was in all manner of things.

He nodded to them, and she nodded back. She resisted the urge to feel him out, though curiosity killed her like a cat. Like other empaths of Betazoid extraction, she could sometimes transmit her thoughts to those whose minds were made receptive through training or biology.

She wondered if having been part of The Collective would make a Human thusly receptive. How isolated he must feel... but perhaps a whispered word into his brainpaths would do more harm to him than comfort him.

For now, she spoke only aloud: "Commander."

And then she glanced at the captain...

She wondered what secrets hid behind his eyes only. (They were not unpleasant eyes, not hardly at all.) She wondered what he had in store for them.

She leaned against the wall beside the intricate reproduction of that ancient ocean-going battlecraft, a namesake to this starship, and she crossed her arms over her stomach. Relaxed, and yet poised.

Attentive.

 

[Varshanka]

M'Chel Raica S'Tarr - Marine MSgt

She sat in the armoury, dismantling and reassembling piece after piece. The combat helmet with blast visor firmly in place. She saw nothing. Only her memory and training would help her now. Twenty-five weapons were dismantled on the table. The parts heaped into a pile by the Armoury Master.

As soon as one weapon was together she selected a new part and began assembling the next. Precision perfect.

"Ladies and gentlemen, hermaphrodites and androgynes and all variations of gender over sea and under stars," she intoned, with a mix of benedictory reverence and peremptory declaration, "this is Commander Raan, sounding flight quarters. I repeat, we are sounding flight quarters, all hands to your stations, all ashore who's going ashore. Wheels up in sixty, people. We've got a date with Everywhere, and we don't want to be late."

Blinking once behind the helmet M'Chel calculated the remaining time to complete reassembling all the weapons. Time.. sufficient, she determined.

***

With the last weapon assembled she went therough and test fired each and everyone of them. Only then did she remove the blast helmet and begin returning each weapon to it's assigned location.

Cold. Emotionless. Precision perfect.

The door hissed shut behind her as she returned to the squad ready room.

 

[Abraxas Winterlight]

Lt. Connor Jace

I was waiting to hear if she needed me to step out when my new boss walked in. Tall fruity drink on the desk, nothing being worked on, chatting with a female crewmember.

Not my best first impression. Probably in the top 5 for worst first impressions.

“Lt. Jace, you will find the first security shift personnel log and duties in the computer,” He stated rather bluntly, then proceeded to outline some engineering problems to Lt. Commander Orsoth.

"I'm on it Sir." I replied, but he was already gone.

This was going to take some getting used to.

I brought my screens back up while Orsoth got to work on the replicator. I had already looked over the staffing reports and wanted a sit-down with the Chief before screwing up anything he had working.

One thing I learned on my first ship, don't screw up what isn't broke. The chief would know these people better than me right now, and until I had been here a while I was going to just stay out of his way and learn.

Orsoth let me know that the replicator was going to be down a while. I chuckled. "Guess I will get to check out the lounge earlier than I planned. OK, I'm going to get out of your hair while you work. Thanks for showing up so soon, I appreciate it."

I shut down my computer, picked up my PADD, and made my way out the door. I wanted to go locate a few good places for those weapons lockers, and I wanted to get a feel for the ship.

"Ladies and gentlemen, hermaphrodites and androgynies and all variations of gender over sea and under stars,this is Commander Raan, sounding flight quarters. I repeat, we are sounding flight quarters, all hands to your stations, all ashore who's going ashore. Wheels up in sixty, people. We've got a date with Everywhere, and we don't want to be late."

Well, I guess we were on our way. And sooner than I thought.

 

[subxboi]

"Ladies and gentlemen, hermaphrodites and androgynes and all variations of gender over sea and under stars, this is Commander Raan, sounding flight quarters. I repeat, we are sounding flight quarters, all hands to your stations, all ashore who's going ashore. Wheels up in sixty, people. We've got a date with Everywhere, and we don't want to be late."

Looking up momentarily from the monitor panels in front of him, Emerson perked a brow into nowhere in particular at the peculiar message from the Commander, before shifting a somewhat disappointed look to the junior engineers and other specialists slowly beginning to trickle in.

"It's about time!", he says with some impatient disdain in his voice. The diagnostics had been run, the M/ARA and warp core optimized, power supply adjusted and tweaked, dilithium articulator checked and re-checked; All systems were running as well as they could be expected to run, right at spec for the Sovereign class vessel. Folding his arms across his chest and slumping forward in his chair with a small sigh, he muses to himself. "Why is it that I'm the 'assistant' again...?"

 

[Screech]

"Guess I will get to check out the lounge earlier than I planned. OK, I'm going to get out of your hair while you work. Thanks for showing up so soon, I appreciate it."

Marjia smiled and nodded her appreciation of Jace's comment. Sure, she was focussing on working, but that doesn't mean all the civil niceties go out the window

Ladies and gentlemen, hermaphrodites and androgynes and all variations of gender over sea and under stars, this is Commander Raan, sounding flight quarters. I repeat, we are sounding flight quarters, all hands to your stations, all ashore who's going ashore. Wheels up in sixty, people. We've got a date with Everywhere, and we don't want to be late."

Marjia had barely started work on the replicator before the call to fight quarters was sounded She cursed her luck at the timing, and quickly put away her tools before closing up the hatch. It wasn't perfect by any means, but at least it would dispense the requested drink.

Climbing back to her feet, she left to room and proceeded to jog to the closest turbolift. The doors hissed open, and she quickly stepped inside. "Main engineering!" Once again, the lift hummed into life, and the blue lights strobed on the wall panels.

The ride was short, and no sooner had the doors opened, than she was swiftly moving to her designated station. Again, that trip itsself was quite short, and she was soon at her destination. What's more, it looked like her assistant had actually shown up! Got the rest of the staff running, too, by the looks of it.

Marjia placed her kit in the wall storage locker, and walked up behind Lt. Emerson. "Admirable job, leutenant. Looks like I can at least count on you to keep this place running in my absence. Well done"

 

[subxboi]

So there she was; The Chief. Despite his personal concerns, upon her entry he is quick to straighten himself in his chair out of respect for her rank, though not giving her the time to be looked at for a moment as he monitors the work of the other technicians now handling the minor systems duties. "I want a full deck-by-deck report on plasma conduction levels shipwide before we depart.", he tells a junior, who nods her head and scurries off to work. The following approach of his commanding officer didn't so much startle him as it gave him a nervous tingling in his stomach. "Alright, here we go...", he thought to himself.
Nodding his head, he rotated the black synth-leather coated chair and stood, saluting briefly and nodding his head. "Thank you, sir. I'll see to it that the ship is kept in top shape should your services be required elsewhere. I took the liberty of beginning scans early, and I have compiled a log of all adjustments made since I came aboard. We're currently running at ninety-six percent optimum efficiency and rising." His presence is quite rigid, shoulders stiff and firm, face plain and mechanical. "I believe we have a good staff on hand. I'm currently awaiting final pre-departure reports on all concerned systems which should be ready for final analysis and adjustment before we leave dock."

 

[AmenRa]

Captain Harper waited until everyone had settled themselves into the Ready Room before he spoke.

"As soon as we four finish our discussion, and just prior to departure, we will hold a briefing in Conference Room 1 with all senior staff and department heads," Harper informed them.

He walked to his desk and sat in the chair. When he had seated himself, he looked directly towards Nine Nineteen.

"I understood you wanted to discuss Lt. Jace's service record," he remarked. "Speak your mind, Nine. We hold no secrets here," he added.

 

[Wyldfire]

“As long as I’m not in uniform, it’s Emma,” she said back, leaning forward lightly on the bar. “I’d love a peach tea and a real blueberry muffin, if you happen to have one stashed away back there somewhere. I know, I know, the replicators make a good muffin, but nothing beats the taste of real berries.”

Note this for future reference, the CMO liked fresh blueberry muffins. "I wish I could hand you one, Emma, but all I have by the way of fresh berries is a mixed berry mixture. I could heat that up right quick and maybe throw it over some vanilla bean ice cream," Ryika countered, "And one peach tea coming right up. Hot or iced?"

“As an Orion, I’m sure you’re used to the little comments and snickers, but there is one corpsman in sick bay that plans on spending as much time here as he can. From what I can tell, he’s quite taken with you.

She leaned back slightly and laughed.

“But you know men. They always want the things that they know they can’t have.”[/QUOTE]

Ryika's face almost split open and she gave a ever so soft laugh "Oh, Emma, I'm very used to the looks and comments. I go out of my way to provoke them," she leaned closer to the woman and whispered, "And who said he can't have me?"

Before Ryika could say anymore the ship wide came online and the women heard the X.O.'s announcement.
"Ladies and gentlemen, hermaphrodites and androgynes and all variations of gender over sea and under stars," she intoned, with a mix of benedictory reverence and peremptory declaration, "this is Commander Raan, sounding flight quarters. I repeat, we are sounding flight quarters, all hands to your stations, all ashore who's going ashore. Wheels up in sixty, people. We've got a date with Everywhere, and we don't want to be late."

Ryika straightened up with another laugh "Seems the Exec's more cheerful than one would think with her heritage."

 

[MilkManDan007]

Nine of Nineteen

“As soon as we three finish our discussion, and just prior to departure, we will hold a briefing in Conference Room 1 with all senior staff and department heads," the Captain said as he sat behind the wide desk. “I understood you wanted to discuss Lt. Jace's service record. Speak your mind, Nine. We hold no secrets here.”

Nine of Nineteen took one step forward and addressed the captain directly, as if no one else were standing in the room.

“I cannot efficiently perform my duties without the ability to know all I need to know,” he said. “Much of Lt. Jace’s service record is inaccessible due to the Classified status placed upon it by the Starfleet Judge Advocate General. I must have this classification removed in order to guarantee that there are no security issues among my staff or aboard this ship. There are other personnel issues that need to be discussed, but the background and reliability of the members of my security team is of greatest concern.”

He eyes stared coldly at the captain, not from contempt or lack of respect, but simply waiting for the answer. The possibilities were already swirling in his head at the myriad of outcomes that could be presented. One line from the file, one of the only lines that was not redacted or classified, stuck out prominently in his mind.

Gross Negligence Resulting in Loss of Starfleet Personnel and Resources.

He could have been assigned to the security detail of high-ranking officer who came under fire from a mutinous crew, he could have been working as an undercover operative spying on the Romulans and been forced to act to keep his cover intact, or he could have committed the most heinous of treasonous acts.

He could almost feel the nervousness in the room. A question everyone wanted to ask but no one had a good reason to bring up. The human side of his mind tugged at his consciousness, begging him to turn and utter some nicety to the others in the room, a simple It's Nothing Personal, but this was the duty he had been tasked with. He should hold no reservations about performing it as efficiently and completely as possible.

He did not turn to the others, but simply waited for the Captain's response.

 

[MilkManDan007]

Emma Watkins

"I wish I could hand you one, Emma, but all I have by the way of fresh berries is a mixed berry mixture. I could heat that up right quick and maybe throw it over some vanilla bean ice cream. And one peach tea coming right up. Hot or iced?”

The Orion was full of surprises. Who would have thought she’d have stashed some fresh berries on board instead of just relying on the replicators?

“Iced, if you would please. But I’ll have to take a pass on the ice cream, at least until I have a good reason to celebrate.”

Rykia laughed at her comments, but Emma knew full well the new barkeep could have any man on the ship she wanted. Any woman too for that matter. Their conversation was cut short by the announcement over the Conn.

“Seems the Exec's more cheerful than one would think with her heritage,” Rykia said with another laugh.

“Well, she’s got more than a little Betazoid in her, so don’t let that gruff Klingon exterior fool you,” Emma said with a smile, taking the large glass of tea from Rykia. “I guess this tea will have to be for the road then. Sorry I can’t stay longer!”

She turned and slid out of the lounge, making her way back to sick bay. Her staff was busy securing the medical equipment and double checking the stores. They would put to space in less than an hour. She headed to her quarters to change and ready herself for the first shift.

 

[AmenRa]

Harper

“I cannot efficiently perform my duties without the ability to know all I need to know,” he said. “Much of Lt. Jace’s service record is inaccessible due to the Classified status placed upon it by the Starfleet Judge Advocate General. I must have this classification removed in order to guarantee that there are no security issues among my staff or aboard this ship. There are other personnel issues that need to be discussed, but the background and reliability of the members of my security team is of greatest concern.”

John Harper sat back in his chair and lifted his right eyebrow. Traits of the Vulcans he had spent time with aboard Intrepid 5 had indeed rubbed off on him.

"There is some information that is divulged based on a need-to-know basis," Harper began, "and I agree, you need to know. But, as you well should know, I can not remove any such classification on anyone's file placed by JAG. The information you seek is the results and findings of an Administrative Inquiry placed by JAG, and there are only two people in this galaxy that can divulge that information. One of whom sits at a desk labeled "Chief of Starfleet Operations", and the other is the person in question, Lt. Jace.

"Now, seriously, could I access the info?" Harper asked rhetorically. "Yeah, sure I could. A little thing called 'emergency command over ride' would open it up immediately. But then," and Harper gave a mock exasperated sigh, "there's the red flag that goes off in Command's office, and the resulting JAG inquiry as to why I accessed the information. So, no, I'm not going to put my head on the chopping block for that, either."

"Have I read it?" Harper asked again rhetorically. "Yes, I have. And you can call that my need-to-know."

The captain stood now, and walked over to the transparent aluminum viewport where he gazed out into the innards of McKinley Station. "Nine, my suggestion to you is to go to Lt. Jace and ask him about it personally. Explain to him why you want to know, thereby offerring him a tidbit of trust from you. I think you will be more than pleased with the outcome. He'll tell you everything, if he feels you trust him enough to want to know. He might even open the file so you can read it yourself." This was what Harper hoped for, in truth, because Nine of Nineteen's reading of the JAG inquiry would be coldly efficient, and his scrutiny of the information would most certainly reveal hints of deceit. And it may, with any luck, give Lt. Jace more power to his phaser banks to clear his name. And, of course, if Nine uncovers something, the former member of the Collective would actively pursue it, because it would be the right thing to do.

Harper turned around and pointedly looked at the other three standing within the Ready Room.

"Each of us must prove ourselves to every person on this ship. I don't ask anything special from anyone. But one thing I will demand from my senior officer staff is that you begin your relationships with your subordinates by placing your trust and respect in each of them first. Don't expect them to give you anything just because of your rank or title. You will respect them for the person they are, the job they do, and their commitment to the safety and security of this vessel. I will not tolerate anything less. Understood?"

Sometimes, you just had to play Captain.

 

[Screech]

"Thank you, sir. I'll see to it that the ship is kept in top shape should your services be required elsewhere. I took the liberty of beginning scans early, and I have compiled a log of all adjustments made since I came aboard. We're currently running at ninety-six percent optimum efficiency and rising."

The liutenant's comments made Marjia smile. He was almost Cardassian in his work ethic. Although, he did give off the air of a Borg with the way he stodd perfectly still, and stared blankly ahead. Well, as close as you could probably get, and still be human.

"I believe we have a good staff on hand. I'm currently awaiting final pre-departure reports on all concerned systems which should be ready for final analysis and adjustment before we leave dock."

"Excellent work! I shall review the logs momentairily. Again, I applaud you on your efficiency, liutenant. However, let's see what we can do about notching up the power transfer system to ninety-eight percent as a minimum, hmm? It pays to have that little bit extra in a crisis"

Marjia picked up a nearby padd and scanned the data on the adjustements. "You certainly have been busy. Looking to get my job?" She made one of her trademark smiles. A wide smile, mostly showing frendliness, but with a hit of something else. Just a little too wide to just be friendly, and not quite wide enough to be predatory. She moved away a little and turned to face to slowly pulsating warp core "You should know that I prize nothing more highly than loyalty and efficiency. And, before you ask, no. Not loyalty to me, but loyalty to the ship and it's captain. The bridge may be the centre of operations, but this..." She held out one hand with a sweeping gesture, indicating the entirety of engineering. "..This is the beating heart of the ship. It is our duty to ensure that it is at it's best, no matter what" She smiled again, and stepped away from the core. "Ah, but you'll have to excuse me if I go on. We Cardassians do like to talk. Now, shall we go over coaxing that extra two percent out of the power grid, or is there another subject that may need adressing?"

 

[subxboi]

One of the junior engineers approaches him from the rear shortly after the end of Chief Orsoth's monologue. 'Lieutenant Emerson, the reports you requested...', he says, handing him a PADD and nodding. Emerson makes a short gesture toward the chief, prompting the man to offer a quick salute before briskly heading back to his duties. Studying the register coldly, his eyes seem to glint with its glow, ticking back and forth and searching for any pertinent data.
"As much as I'd enjoy a personal conversation with you, it will have to wait for off-duty hours. Though I will say that it will be a pleasure working under an officer that shares my passion for efficiency...As for that boost in performance..." The lieutenant's lips just barely break their solid form into a tiny smile. "...Ninety-eight percent may be 'good enough', but I'm confident that I can do better.
Sitting down at his position once again, he begins to fervently pass his hands back and forth, up and down the panels as if he were programmed to do it. Knowing there was little time left before the ship was flung into the deepest reaches of space, he could feel the pressure rising-- The pressure to out think, out wit and simply out perform any expectations laid upon him. The comforting light emitted by the warp core dims...And then glows with a renewed vigor, pulsing at a comfortable pace. "The matter/anti-matter reactor was functioning perfectly, but by adjusting the pitch of the dilithium crystal just slightly downward toward the hatch, the flow is just that much stronger..."
After a moment, a full, satisfied smile comes to his face. "And, viola. Ninety-nine percent operating parameters-- That is, if you can forgive my unorthodox method." In his heart, it was beautiful. A near-perfect machine carried a grace impossible to be held by humans themselves, only able to be touched ever so lightly through the caress of a console. It was his life.

 

[Screech]

Marjia nodded an acknowledgement of the junior engineer as he handed a padd actoss to Emerson. She nodded again at his remark of ninety-eight percent being "good enough". She stood back as he started to work his hands across the control display in such a way that it wouldn't have surprised Marjia if he had memorised the layouts, and went over them every night. With his eyes closed.

"Ninety-nine percent. Most impressive Lieutenant. Most impressive indeed" She smiled again, this time less predatory, and more friendly. "Any method is fine by me, so long as it gets the desired results. The more efficient, the better"

 

[MilkManDan007]

Nine of Nineteen

It almost seemed as if the Captain was taunting him. There was something rising within Nine of Nineteen that he rarely felt; a quiet tightness in his throat, a slight tightening of his jaw and a narrowing of his eyes. The Captain threw needless words around: Need to Know, Tidbit of Trust, More Than Pleased. The feeling continued to rise as Harper turned and lectured them about beginning relationships their staff by offering them trust and respect.

Trust, Courtesy, Respect: All Inefficient.

The command structure was the closest to efficiency that could be reached aboard a starship. The staff performed the menial tasks and reported any abnormalities or unusual situations to their shift leaders. The shift leaders dealt with those situations, leaving the command staff free to focus on more pressing tasks that encompassed the entire ship. Authority rose in a ship, those below asked for permission from those above. It was not supposed to run the other way. Department heads should not need to ask their subordinates for permission.

It was inefficient.

The muscles in his throat continued to contract, as did his jaw. His eyes narrowed further and he took a deep breath. He was still rediscovering his human emotions, controlling them so they did not control him. This was one he had not felt in some time: Anger. The Captain’s mock sigh, the rhetorical questions, the unneeded command to respect and trust those beneath his senior staff.

Nine of Nineteen took another deep breath. The emotions had been coming stronger lately, still infrequently, but much stronger. He had to actively concentrate to suppress them, to keep them from erupting out of him.

“Understood Captain,” he said in his usual inflectionless voice. The anger in him was subsiding as he began to focus on what information could be in that file that would keep the Captain from divulging it in front of the other members of the senior staff. The urge to turn and leave the Ready Room, to go immediately to Lt. Jace and find out what was in the file was almost overwhelming. It would be the most effective way to solve his most pressing security concern.

Instead, he waited to be dismissed by the Captain. Waiting for formalities, another inefficiency he had to live with.

 

[MilkManDan007]

Chief Medical Officer Emma Watkins

Emma sipped at the drink as she walked back to her quarters. She felt a pleasant, warm feeling as she stepped into the turbolift, much the same one gets when wrapped in a thick blanket in front of a fire. It seemed to fade with each step, almost dripping from her as she walked. Orion pheromones, she thought as she stepped into her quarters to change. She knew they were potent, and Ryika’s file said she had them under control, but they still had quite an effect. As she pulled on the cyan collared uniform, she couldn’t help but to admire herself in the mirror, especially the third pip on her collar. Even though it was hollow, it was still there. She had come so far and accomplished so much, finally getting her own command.

She stepped from her room and began to make her way down to Sick Bay. It was only as she stepped back into the turbolift that the first tinge of uncertainty hit her. Would she handle the pressure? Would she make a mistake? Would someone on this crew, someone she knew, someone she cared about, die from her actions? She tried to push the thought from her mind as the turbolift hummed through the tube.

That pang of uncertainty, the image of him in her head. Nathan Graves. He had been so important to her. He had been her first love. She had known him from around the Starbase 210 while she was still in residency and began to see him more frequently once she had been appointed to the surgical staff. Their relationship had just started to become serious when the ship he was serving on was ambushed and nearly destroyed. When they brought him to the cargo bay that had been set up to take the overflow and triage, she barely recognized him. He was covered in plasma burns and was drifting in and out of consciousness. She had focused on him, trying to keep him alive, trying to do everything she could to stave off the pain and make sure he’d pull through. She had refused to leave his side and two of the other patients nearly died due to her single-mindedness for him. She nearly had left Starfleet following his death. She had neglected her duty, she had put her personal feelings above the needs of others. It was only a call from her mentor, Dr. Roman Dumar, that kept her enlisted.

Always remember to never get too attached to the crew. Always maintain a certain level of distance, because when they come to you, and they will, screaming, bleeding and dying, you have to remain objective and see them as a patient, not as your friend. That is the only way you’ll keep from getting hurt in a way no medicine can ever cure.

She had tried to keep herself from becoming too attached to anyone since then. She was such an outgoing person though, so she found the isolation crushing at times. A small tear rolled down her cheek as his memory faded. She quickly brushed it aside as the doors to sick bay hissed open in front of her.

 

[ChasNicollette]

I Corinthians 9:19

[ Kahlest Raan - Commander, XO - Ready Room ]

Kahlest was less familiar than she'd like to be with the religions of Earth.

In their way, Klingons were an intensely spiritual people. And Betazoids, too, she'd learned these things from her adoptive telepathic parents, were beautifully polytheistic.

And Earth-- though the vast majority of the populace now were secular humanists --had such a storied history of myth and tradition and superstition. So much so that certain of their histories were all but inseparable from the stories of faith.

One of these histories told of a king named David. Klingons, who had read the translated versions of Gilgamesh and Hamlet, were intrigued by David. David had had much honour in his life, and much dishonour, but throughout his story there were instances of fantastic valour, strength of arm and strength of heart.

Even as a boy, a simple herder of wool-bearing livestock, David had had the courage to face a great beast of a man, a giant, one that an entire army would not dare to challenge. He had struck the man with a stone, and taken his head, and the giant's own army had been routed in their terror of this. And on and on the stories went... foreskins and madness and refusing to assassinate his tormentor in an ambush...

The Klingons liked King David.

But it was a prince born out of the ashes of tragedy and dishonour that The Betazoids would love. David betrayed a man under his command, took this man's woman for himself and arranged that this man should be killed in battle so as to cover his indiscretion. There was a baby born of David and this woman, born of this indiscretion, and the baby passed away. But years later, this same David, married to this same woman, would have another son, a later son.

This son would grow to have great wisdom, and ruled with that wisdom, and became for a time a greater king even than David. He would arbitrate decisions and rulers and nobles would come from miles around to test and prove his mental acrobatics.

The Betazoids liked King Solomon.

It was Kahlest's experience that a good captain did not flinch from giants or armies, and was as strong as David. But it only took a fraction of Solomon's wisdom to become a truly great captain.

And so it was that Kahlest Raan pursed her lips and nodded slowly as Captain John Harper, wise as could be, killed several giants with one stone. He avoided having to divulge deeply personal data about Jace without Jace's permission, he avoided having to circumnavigate the orders of Starfleet Command, he proved himself wise and strong before his new subordinates, and he answered Kahlest's own questions, as-yet-unasked, about both Jace and the officially-dead M'chel Raica S'Tarr.

You may ask, but I may not answer.

Not everyone in the room, however, was apparently nearly so enamoured with Harper's response.

It started slowly at first. Like a pot of water on a stove... bubbles starting to form on the sides and bottom of the pot...

Kahlest frowned slightly, inwardly, glanced at Nineteen.

...and then the bubbles started to rise, started to climb to the surface of the water, propelled by heat, by heat rising, the waters infuriated by the heat...

Kahlest blinked, and had to steady herself-- steady, steady --against the table atop which the older Arizona was enshrined, as Nine's internal clamourings reached a fever pitch, she could feel it...

...but then they were cooling again, cooling back down, the anger turned down as one might turn down the heat on a stove.

And Kahlest, Deities save her, had to take a bit of a breath, and shook her head in awe.

He'd exerted himself as proficiently as any Vulcan, bottled the upsurge, deflected it back down within himself. And now, now, his calm was returning.

“Understood Captain,” he said in his usual inflectionless voice.

He didn't sound unhappy. But he didn't sound happy, either. Regardless of where his anger had gone, it seemed that Nine of Nineteen had better places to be.

Kahlest watched him quietly. And kept her own counsel, for the moment.

This Borg, it seemed, was very much Human. And that could be a good thing. And it could be terrible. She felt for him, she agonised for him, she felt for him. At the same time, she wondered what damage a Borg-empowered temper tantrum could wreak.

For the moment, she kept her own counsel, and she held her tongue. She would speak with the captain.

And she wondered if perhaps some of her own personal aggression-vent holodeck files wouldn't do Nine of Nineteen a few worlds of good.

For the moment, she waited to see what Captain Harper and Lieutenant Commander Torres thought of all this.