We are at the halfway point of the month and have already passed 63 posts! Great job everyone, keep up the wonderful writing. Compile Summary Your adoring CSO --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Stardate: 2406.10.24 (Raelleus IV - The Palace - Prince Hanaldine and Ensign Jansen - 0222) (Raelleus IV - The Palace - MO Alesia Trenor - 0252) (USS Gunnel - Telan Raynar-ships counselor-0703) (USS Mystique- Communications Station - Ensign (jg) Mason Garrett- 1250) (USS Mystique- Communications Station - Ensign (jg)Bartok- 1252) (USS Mystique, Ready Room, CO, CO Captain Vanyssa Winters, 1330) ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Stardate: 2406.10.24 (Raelleus IV - The Palace - Prince Hanaldine and Ensign Jansen - 0222) Hanaldine's eyes narrowed as the one called Jansen forced his mind out of his thoughts, he had been monitoring his brain not only to verify the truth of his words but also to pick up any thoughts or images that would help complete the Prince's knowledge of the out worlders plans. The claims of Jansen were made vehemently but Hanaldine did not believe him completely, there was something he was not telling, of that he was sure. The strength of the out worlders mind was raw and unfocused and though he had some ability Hanaldine did not fear him or his power, he feared no one. Hanaldine's attempt to reinsert his mind was again rebuffed so he sent out a sent out a mental wave of pain, a red hot lance that tore through Jansen's mind and caused him to cry out as he nearly toppled from his chair. Jabril moved toward the Prince as the remaining two guards situated themselves within eight feet of the prisoners, ready to strike if they were needed. Jansen crumpled to his knees at the pain he felt. A tear slowly fell from the corner of his eye. He tried to steel himself from the pain, but found no escape. It was even in the recesses of his mind. ~No.~ This time he concentrated even harder and said it out loud. "No!" With even greater effort he sent the thought out through his mind. ::NO!!:: At the same time he pulled in all of his might into a ball inside his head and then through it out from him. The prince fell back over his chair and was thrown across the room by the telekinetic force. The guards found themselves flown through the air and struck the wall with a dull thud. The slowly sank to the ground, unable to help their prince any longer. Jansen blinked away the last remnants of the pain and made his way to his feet. "This is madness Prince Hanaldine," Jansen shot at him. "Why would you do this. We have never shown you any cause for alarm." The Prince grunted slightly with the effort as he maneuvered himself back to his feet. :: Do you not understand who you are in the presence of? I am the ruler of this city... the royal Prince and I demand the respect due my office! :: A feeling of awe bordering worship began to fill Jansen's being and the Prince seemed to grow in his eyes, he was now on his feet and looking levelly at Jansen. The voice in his head threw Jansen. He wasn't expecting that and it sounded strange to him. He lost his focus and by the time he had regained some Hanaldine was looking much larger and much more impressive. It wasn't just impressive either. He looked undefeatable. His hair seemed to blow in a nonexistent wind, and his muscles appeared to ripple under his clothes. The only word he could find to describe him was, awesome. But how could that be. Moments before he knew that he had been pushing him away. Now he wanted to embrace him. To give himself up for this prince. Something wasn't right with this. Again he dug down into the pits of his own will and found the real picture of Hanaldine that he knew existed. He realized that Hanaldine was manipulating him again. Not just his will, but his perceptions. The prospect of such an ability was frightening. That fear triggered another wave of anger. Just who the hell did he think he was, rearranging his thoughts and feelings. This time, when he reached out with his mind, Jansen was a little more discrete. He pictured in his mind a hand around Hanladine's throat. Then, with more focus than ever before, he imagined that hand squeezing tightly. He looked up to see Hanaldine's eyes open wide and he grabbed at his throat, obviously having trouble breathing. The face of the Prince began to grow red as his supply of oxygen was cut off and he struggled to focus his mind. ~ The only way to stop this is to retaliate and throw off his focus ~ he thought while avoiding the possibilities of surrendering or coming to an accommodation with the out worlder. Not being a telekinetic he was at a slight disadvantage in this situation and he knew it but he had other abilities he could use. He opened his eyes again and looked at Jansen and pulling in the full power of his prodigious mind he sent out a mental wave designed to force the pilot into unconsciousness, a tactic that he was extremely efficient at. The choking hold was broken as Jansen's eyes got heavy but he was fighting desperately to hold on to consciousness. Hanaldine drew his dagger rather than his sword as he walked toward the out worlder , if Jansen overcame the sleep command he was determined to throw it through his heart before he could repulse him or get him in another submission situation. Jansen's mind began to blank. He couldn't focus any longer. All he could think of was sleep. How tired he was, and how nice it would have been to just lay down and close his eyes. Stop the fight... The fight? For his life.He rubbed his forehead and shook his head, but the urge to rest was nearly overwhelming. Then his eye caught a glimpse of something shiny. His eyes refused to focus on it. He wanted to push away with his mind but he was sooo tired. Why was he so tired. This was a bad time for fatigue. When he realized what was happening he was able to focus his vision enough to see the dagger in Hanaldine's hand, aimed at his chest. Instinctively he gathered his energy and focused it in his chest. As he shook his head to clear it, he saw the blade flash at him. The blade touched his chest, barely, then stopped. A trickle of blood ran down his chest, where the dagger scratched him. But it wouldn't move any further. Jansen was too groggy to notice his wound, or even realize how minor it was, considering how serious it should have been. However, the look on Hanaldines face was not hard to interpret. He could feel the prince put everything he had into the blade. Jansen increased his focus at his chest, creating a slight glow at the tip of the blade. Then with a swift move, he twisted his body, grabbed the dagger, and watched as Hanldine rolled across the floor, leaving Jansen with the blade in his hands. The Prince came to a stop and looked around to see the out worlder with the blade, he got to his feet slowly and looked Jansen in the eye. "Will you try to slay me then? I have a sword and you your powers; what is your next step?" Jansen was starting to get the hang of this ... ability. He wrapped his mind around the dagger sent it flying through the air straight towards Hanaldine's chest. Suddenly the blade stopped, centimeters away from the skin. It hung there for a moment, as if Jansen were trying to decide what to do. However, he already knew what he had to do. Underneath the orange fur, and behind these new abilities, he was still a starfleet officer. With a flick of his hand the blade flew to the side and embedded itself into a wall. He glowered at Hanaldine. "What is next," he replied, "is that we end this madness. As yet, there is no reason for this display. I do not wish to harm you, nor do I desire to be hurt myself, for that matter. I just want to know what is going on, without anyone trying to get inside my head." Hanaldine was beaten and knew it, he nodded his head as he turned once more toward his seat. The guards and Jabril were beginning to stir groggily as he sat down, rather than send to Jansen he spoke to him audibly again. "I see. You are powerful Jansen, more powerful than I had considered. It seems you speak from a position of strength and have earned respect. I will not attempt to monitor your thoughts any longer." As they continued to speak the door opened and a Raellean dressed in formal livery entered and approached the Prince, as he neared him he bowed low. Hanaldine looked at him for an instant before speaking. "Yes Galeb." "My Prince, three have arrived at the front gate and wish to speak to you. The leader calls himself Riven and says he has something my Prince desires. He is accompanied by a Courtesan and another male." Hanaldine was startled for a moment at the prospect of visitors at this late hour, he searched the mind of Galeb and saw the "Courtesan" of which he spoke and his face broke into a toothy smile. ~He comes here? To my palace? "Send in my visitors Galeb." He said as he settled back in the seat. As the servant left the room he spoke to Jansen. "We are going to have to continue our discussion later, I have some very important guests being escorted in shortly." ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Stardate: 2406.10.24 (Raelleus IV - The Palace - MO Alesia Trenor - 0252) Alesia tried very hard not to wince as the Prince stared down at her. She also tried hard not to look in the direction of her crewmates, keeping her eyes cast submissively down. She knew that the Prince was a formidable telepath, she could tell that as easily as she could spell her own name. And so she waited for Riven to speak. The role she played said that she could only answer when spoken to, and then only carefully and honestly. She knew she was walking a delicate line here. She blinked and suddenly the room fell away and she found herself in a candlelit dark space, dressed in a midnight blue evening gown that left nothing to the imagination, and she turned to see the Prince standing there, looking down at her with a look of clear want and superiority. "My Lord?" She asked carefully, breaking the first rule. "Where are we? Where is my Lord Protector?" She glanced around the small, candlelit dark space, and shivered. This was not how she had anticipated this away mission going. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Stardate: 2406.10.23 (USS Gunnel - Telan Raynar-ships counselor-0703) Telan woke up again from sleep and glanced at the chronometer set in the shuttles ceiling. “time to check on my patients” He stood and stretched the went over to the replicator and ordered coffee for Peters and a strong tea for himself and went towards the rear of the shuttle. On the way he searched through his mind for the hooks he had placed in the away teams minds. There they were shining faintly. He could detect no strong emotions, no pain. Unfortunately, that was about the limit of these things. He could tell where they were, that they were alive and not suffering any trauma inducing emotions. When he opened the door to the rear most room he found Peters awake and handed him the coffee.Telan checked the bandages on Peters’ chest and arms but everything seemed to be OK. Peters would recover nicely if they could get back to the ship. Nurse Jones was another matter still. Now that he was rested Telan was ready again to try to help the nurse. ~This is crazy, I can’t keep referring to her as Nurse or Nurse Jones~ Peters, do you know what her name is…other than Jones? “Sherri, I think” he replied. ”Ok, Thanks. If you feel like moving you might find it more comfortable in the forward section” He told the wounded man. “Some people prefer not to be around while this is going on”. Telan pulled a chair up behind the head of the bed that the comatose nurse was in and gentaly laid his hands on Sherri’s temples and began to slowly drift down into the swirling madness of her mind. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Stardate: 2406.10.24 (USS Mystique- Communications Station - Ensign (jg) Mason Garrett- 1250) "Looks like we're ready," Ensign Garrett said to the Klingon at his side. Both were looking at the communication station's display screen reading the latest diagnostic result. "That's a pretty sight. No red lights. All parts of the communications system check out. Can you think of anything we missed?" Ensign Bartok confirmed what Garrett already knew, that everything had been thoroughly checked and rechecked. Garrett nodded in agreement. After many hours of crawling through Jeffries tubes, tearing out circuit boards, relay packs and joints then putting it all back together ... their project was completed. "The only thing left to do is tell Mr. Hhril." The Klingon suggested meeting in 10-forward for a few drinks after their work was completed. "Sounds good." Garrett tapped his com-badge. "Ensign Garrett to Lt. Hhril." "HHril here, go ahead," returned the voice of the Ops officer. "Sir, all adjustments to the communications system are complete and the computer tests show its good to go," Garrett announced. "The ship should be able to transmit from the nebula anytime." "Good work, Ensign. I will notify the Captain." "Yessir. Repairs in Engineering are wrapping up fast. Where do you need us now." "How is your teams knowledge of cloaking technologies." Garrett cast an inquisitive glance at Bartok. "How about it 'team?'" he said with a quirky grin. The Klingon's stony gaze made Garrett wonder if he grasped the nuance -- or was insulted by it. Garrett knew more about cloak technology than he did about Klingon's. His basic knowledge of cloaking devices came from what he learned at Starfleet Academy and a smattering from the Vulcan Science Academy. He knew enough to assist in maintenance or repairs. (Reply: Bartok) "We know enough to get the job done, sir," Garrett said, confidently. "Good. Report to the cloaking shield control room on Deck 15. I will meet you both thier shortly. HHril out." "Yessir." After the lieutenant cut the communications link, Garrett looked at the Klingon again. "Guess our lounging time and the bed will have to wait." He began gathering his tools that were strewn about communications panel in front of him and placed them into his pouch. (Reply: Bartok) Minutes later the two ensigns had moved through the corridor and were on a turbo-lift moving toward Deck 15. Both were silent a moment, then Garrett expressed the concerns pressing on his mind. "You know, even after we get this ship put back together, we still have to deal with the Dian Chang, before we can get our people back. As soon as we transmit a message she'll trace the signal here." (Reply: Bartok) Garrett nodded, thoughtfully. "We may be doing the same thing all over again a few hours from now," he said. "Maybe more." He felt a flurry of emotions threatening to interfere with his reason and went through the mental focus exercises his Vulcan mentor had taught him. He thought about the cloaking device and its various parts that made the system work. He didn't yet know what the problem was so he couldn't begin to consider a solution. That didn't matter for the moment. Focusing his thoughts on something was enough. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Stardate: 2406.10.24 (USS Mystique- Communications Station - Ensign (jg)Bartok- 1252) "Looks like we're ready," Ensign Garrett said to the Klingon at his side. Both were looking at the communication station's display screen reading the latest diagnostic result. "That's a pretty sight. No red lights. All parts of the communications system check out. Can you think of anything we missed?" Ensign Bartok confirmed what Garrett already knew, that everything had been thoroughly checked and rechecked. Garrett nodded in agreement. After many hours of crawling through Jeffries tubes, tearing out circuit boards, relay packs and joints then putting it all back together ... their project was completed. "The only thing left to do is tell Mr. Hhril." The Klingon suggested meeting in 10-forward for a few drinks after their work was completed. "Yessir. Repairs in Engineering are wrapping up fast. Where do you need us now." "How is your teams knowledge of cloaking technologies." Asked Hhrill Garrett cast an inquisitive glance at Bartok. "How about it 'team?'" he said with a quirky grin. The Klingon's stony gaze made Garrett wonder if he grasped the nuance -- or was insulted by it. Garrett knew more about cloak technology than he did about Klingon's. His basic knowledge of cloaking devices came from what he learned at Starfleet Academy and a smattering from the Vulcan Science Academy. He knew enough to assist in maintenance or repairs. “Your team has served on several Klingon ships equipped with cloaks and has serviced them repeatedly”. Replied the Klingon. “The basic theory is the same although the structure is somewhat different. The rest should be in the computers” "We know enough to get the job done, sir," Garrett said, confidently. "Good. Report to the cloaking shield control room on Deck 15. I will meet you both thier shortly. HHril out." "Yessir." After the lieutenant cut the communications link, Garrett looked at the Klingon again. "Guess our lounging time and the bed will have to wait." He began gathering his tools that were strewn about communications panel in front of him and placed them into his pouch. “Duty must come first before personal pleasure. I was however looking forward to dinner and a flagon of Bloodwine. We will need different parts as the cloak works on different frequencies than standard shields. I also need to stop by my quarters for a PADD that I have there. I will meet you back here in a few minutes”. With that the Klingon turned and half jogged toward the turbo shaft and his quarters. Returning shortly later as Garrett had finished gathering his things. Minutes later the two ensigns had moved through the corridor and were on a turbo-lift moving toward Deck 15. Both were silent a moment, then Garrett expressed the concerns pressing on his mind. "You know, even after we get this ship put back together, we still have to deal with the Dian Chang, before we can get our people back. As soon as we transmit a message she'll trace the signal here." “IF we send the signal from the ship then, Yes they would be able to trace it Bartok replied thoughtfully”. “Tell me, has anyone determined yet exactly what I wrong with the cloak yet or are we to start from the beginning?” Garrett nodded, thoughtfully. "We may be doing the same thing all over again a few hours from now," he said. "Maybe more." He felt a flurry of emotions threatening to interfere with his reason and went through the mental focus exercises his Vulcan mentor had taught him. He thought about the cloaking device and its various parts that made the system work. He didn't yet know what the problem was so he couldn't begin to consider a solution. That didn't matter for the moment. Focusing his thoughts on something was enough. Bartok decided he liked this human although he was a little skinny. He had guts and took his position seriously without complaining as he had heard some of the younger humans do. ~I will have to take him on a few workouts though, next time he encounters a marine he might not have someone to help him~ Bartok slapped Garrett on the back in a friendly gesture almost throwing him to the floor. “Come, let us see what kind of mess they have the cloak in now”. ------------------------------------------------------------- Stardate: 2406.10.24 (USS Mystique, Ready Room, CO, CO Captain Vanyssa Winters, 1330) Vanyssa frowned as she listened to the security officer's report. Mr. Dema was not responding to hails, nor had he reported in. Vanyssa dismissed the midshipman, and sighed suddenly more fatigued than she had been earlier."Captain Winters to Lt. Hhril. Hhril, are you in a place to talk ?"(reply Hhril)after a few minutes, Hhril came back. "Hhril, Jason Dema has gone missing. We're trying to track his comm badge, but internal sensors are somewhat patchy. I'm beginning to be afraid that he might be our saboteur." And Vanyssa shivered. She'd brought Dema over from the Nimitz, given him a chance to prove himself, personally guided his career...and it was beginning to look like he might be....(reply Hhril)"I know you've got your hands full with repairs, but take charge of security and arrange patrols. Then report to my Ready Room. I want to have a talk about .... intelligence." And she sighed, tapping her comm badge. She looked up at Oo'lish, who was impassive as ever. "Well, do YOU have any suggestions? You might be my bodyguard, but you are one of the most discreet and observant people that I know. Feel free to speak if you have something to say." And Vanyssa realized that she was sounding somewhat peevish. ---------------------------------------------------------- End compile