Compile August 19-25 (Champlain) This compile is for the Champlain. Lots happening through these posts. Lots of minor timestamp corrections. Note: Whenever there were multiple locations in a single post, I spilt them up so that every thing falls chronologically. This does not alter the post count. --------------------------------------------------------------------- Mission: Beyond Vengeance Day 1 Stardate: 2407.03.14 Compile Summary (Position in spacetime unknown – Olen Rhinehart) (USS Champlain – Sickbay – ACMO, Ensign Henna-star - 0101) (USS Champlain, Main Engineering – Crewman Carol Anderson– 0142) (USS Champlain, Dorsal Nacelle Pylon– SCPO - Alonzo DiCosta– 0205) (USS Wyvern, Brig – Asst. Sec/Tac, Ensign Sam Moto - 0213) (USS Wyvern, Brig - Assistant Security and Tactical Chief, Ensign Sam Moto - 0221) (USS Champlain - Bridge- Science Station on bridge - SO - Ensign SG Derrick LaQua - 0228) (USS Wyvern - Brig – FO Commander Martin O'Shea - 0229) (USS Champlain – Sickbay – 3O/Acting CO Lt. Bree Frazier - 0230) (USS Champlain – Bridge - Ops/Conn - Ensign Smith - 0231) (USS Champlain, Deck 5 - SO Ens.(Sg) Ro'Dal - 0232) (USS Wyvern, Captains Ready Room - Sec Chief/Acting FO, Lt. Jono Janeway - 0233) (USS Champlain – Sickbay – ACMO, Ensign Henna-star - 0234) (USS Champlain – Sickbay – 3O/Acting CO Lt. Bree Frazier - 0235) (USS Champlain – Sickbay – Chief Nurse Kitty Fisher - 0236) (USS Champlain, Deck 15, Security Office - SO Ens.(Sg) Ro'Dal - 0237) (USS Wyvern, Cargo Bay 1, Lt - CTAC/SEC Soolay Tenbor-0238) (USS Champlain – Sickbay – ACMO, Ensign Henna-star - 0239) (USS Wyvern - Cargo Bay One – FO Commander Martin O'Shea - 0240) (USS Champlain, Dorsal Nacelle Pylon – ACEO - Ensign Paul Bird – 0241) (USS Champlain – Sickbay - Ops/Conn - Ensign Smith - 0245) (USS Champlain, Dorsal Nacelle Pylon– SCPO - Alonzo DiCosta– 0247) (USS Champlain – Engineering – Nurse Alamin Kutcac - 0249) (USS Wyvern, Bridge - Sec Officer, Lt(JG) Esiol Uran - 0250) (USS Champlain – Sickbay – ACEO - Ensign Paul Bird - 0251) (USS Wyvern, Cargo Bay 1, Lt Cmdr- CEO Carson Purdue-0254) (USS Wyvern, Bridge – ATAC/ASEC Ensign Sam Moto - 0256) (USS Champlain - Bridge- Science Station on bridge - SO - Ensign SG Derrick LaQua - 0257) (USS Wyvern, Captains Ready Room - Sec Chief/Acting FO, Lt. Jono Janeway - 0258) (USS Champlain, Sickbay, Nurse Livia Telstra, 0300) (USS Champlain – Sickbay – COUNS – Ensign (SG) Olen Rhinehart – 0303) (USS Champlain – Sickbay – COUNS – Nurse Livia Telstra – 0305) (USS Champlain – Sickbay – COUNS – Ensign (SG) Olen Rhinehart – 0306) (USS Champlain – Sickbay – COUNS – Nurse Livia Telstra – 0308) --------------------------------------------------------------------- (Position in spacetime unknown – Olen Rhinehart) Onion-skin eyelids prickled against the raw, stinging orbs that pressed, swollen, against his brain and seemed to cry out for the dark womb of sleep, not this pale, saccharine imitation, barely distinguishable from no sleep at all. He peeled them open reluctantly and could not muster even the indignation to wonder why he had been cursed with another day to live. He stared through the viewport into the beyond, resenting with every ounce of strength he could muster the multiplied flourescent glimmer of distant starlight alighting on his haggard features. Dozens of millions of years to travel to this point in spacetime, only to be greeted so ungratefully. The universe really was not fair. Then he remembered the existence of the dreams. But not the details. Strange dreams. He clawed for them, trying to drag them close, to clutch them to him, wanting to decipher them. But they fled beyond memory, scurrying into that nanoscopic crack between sleep and waking, away from perception's light. There was always tomorrow, he told himself. He could wait them out. He inhaled sharply then, through his nostrils, flaring them painfully, and gagged wetly on the air's stench. He angled his body quickly upright and swallowed the thick bitter bile with a grimace, feeling it burn its way back down his oesophagus. Blood pounded in his temples, jacking up the ache in his brainpan a notch with each and every thud. He shifted his head on the rusty gimbal of his neck, gazing around at the dim, half-lit chaos of his quarters and he groaned, almost wishing he'd just stayed horizontal and befouled the place and let it be. It couldn't really get much worse. This was his life. In the starlit haze it was impossible to distinguish the details of the rot, the strewn garments, the unwashed dishes, the filth-ridden bedding and the unmentionable stains in the carpet. It was instead a general impression of dank, hideous oppression that pushed itself like a broad, mailed fist against his aesthetic sensibilities, slowly crushing the life from them. How many times had he vowed to do something about this, and how many times had he simply turned out the light and gone somewhere else instead, he wondered. There was a certain inevitability to life when you looked at it the right way, and in that light, it seemed futile to resist. He smirked bitterly at the cliché and decided to go brush the flavour of vomit out of his mouth. He was grateful that he at least hadn't inhaled it with his waking gulp of air this time. He gingerly hauled himself upright, each and every bone an ache of its own. Unknowingly, he snaked out a hand and plucked his service weapon from the bedside table, from where it lay amidst miscellaneous detritus. And, picking his way by memory, he walked carefully across the ruined room towards the bathroom cubicle, cursing only one stubbed toe, a minor miracle under the circumstances. The flourescent shaving light snapped on with a hum, casting his features in a hollow, leering mask. He looked in the mirror, and quickly looked away, as if avoiding eye contact. It was easy to see why. Cheeks sunken, beard limpid and dull, eyes smudge circled glassy beads, hair protesting angrily, apparently seeking to secede from his scalp. He placed the phaser on the shelf, and picked up the nearby toothbrush. The bristles were yellowed, brown near their roots, splayed in all directions, dropping in clumps, the whole thing looking like it had been used to minutely scrub a toilet. He turned and looked painfully over his shoulder. Not this toilet, at any rate. The brush clattered back onto the shelf, and he took up the phaser once more. He looked again into the mirror and this time forced himself to meet the glare that came back. “Who are you?” he said, the voice hoarse and thin. The movement of the reflection struck him as alien, strange. “How did you get so...” And then he could bear to look no longer. He gazed instead down into the brushed metal of the sink, pitted and flaking black with oxidisation. When he looked back up, the phaser clattered into the bowl as he cried out. The reflection was just recognisable as a human face, the skin a blotchy, glistening, livid red, pulsing, as if it was turned inside out. The eyes were glassy marbles of white, the beard and hair non-existent except for a patch or two singed black on the ravaged scalp and around a lipless mouth, brown teeth dotted here and there with black roots in pits of decayed gum. Dead white blood oozed from fissures, as mucous dripped from the ruined slits of the nose and tears ran freely from the unblinking milky eyes. He cried out again in horror, stumbling back through the door, tripping over an unpacked box and landing heavily and painfully on his behind. Stinking dust clouded around him and he sneezed. His hands came up to the mouth and nose involuntarily. Fingertips felt the beard, the texture of skin. His face was whole. He frowned in confusion, the runaway drum of his heart slowing a hair. With some difficulty, he struggled to his feet, gingerly stepping back into the bathroom. And the face he saw in the mirror was again his own. “W... weird,” he said aloud, as much to assure himself that he still was as to voice his thoughts. He had almost convinced himself that he had imagined it before... “Not really, Whinehart,” his reflection replied. And with a flash, the rotten, dripping mask was back. Rhinehart staggered back again, but managed this time to keep his eyes on the scarred horror as it mirrored his movements. “You know me, Whinehart. Don't act like you don't recognise me. That's rude.” And the voice pronounced the word with a hollow, clicking strangeness, struggling with its missing lips. With growing uneasiness, he felt his own mouth move with the words, the unsettling voice, like fingers scraping the inside of a casket lid, croaking unbidden from his own gullet. “You really oughtta do something about this place you know, Whinehart. It's a god damn disgrace.” He moved closer to the mirror now, swallowing the fear. The taste of bile was still there. “I'm glad you finally brought me round for a good chat,” the reflection said. “It's nice to be listened to. There's a novelty, huh?” He gripped the edges of the sink as he stared into those weeping, milky eyes, the ragged corrosion of the metal biting into his flesh. And gradually the horror began to subside. “Who... who did this to you?” he said at last. The reflection let loose a succession of barks, a rasping, grating sound. A second later, Rhinehart realised this was meant to be laughter. A less mirthful sound, he had never in his life heard. “You crack me up, Whinehart. Literally.” Rhinehart shook his head and the monstrosity mirrored it. “Listen, there's not much time. They're going to bring you around soon. You got a hard road ahead of us, and... and, you know, I just wanted to uh... to... I guess... uh... just... get a few things down for the record before you... uhm... start battering us again.” The monster paused for breath, air whistling down the dessicated passages. Rhinehart waited, frowning. “Heh,” it said. There was a pause. “Ain't it just always the way, huh? You wait and wait for your chance to speak and then when it comes, seems like there ain't a damn thing to say. If that don't just sum us right up, eh Whinehart?” The silence was unbroken. He felt blood trickling down the palms of his hands as they clutched the sink's edges, spotting loudly against the floor. “See?” And the corpse head barked its dry laugh again and lapsed into silence. Finally he found his voice. “You're saying... I did... I did that,” Rhinehart said, nodding towards the mirrored face, acknowledging its ruin, revulsion turning slowly to pity and then to shame and oh god how it hurt. “To you. To me. I made you... us... that way.” “Look around you, buddy,” the cadaver replied. “You invented this place, you tell me. Obviously I represent some damn thing or other to you, or your unconscious wouldn't have brought me here, would it now counsellor-boy? Ergo, QED, thank you ma'am.” “J-jesus,” he said. And it all made a sudden, sick sense. He couldn't remember a time when he hadn't despised the very skin he stood up in, when he hadn't wished with all his might to do, to be other than he was, only to emerge, as ever, utterly defeated by the futility of the desire. And this was what it all had led to. “Ain't that a kick in head, huh?” the monster said. Rhinehart, bent forward, gripping the sink edges harder, clenching his teeth around the pain. The ragged laugh ripped from his throat again, before launching into a rough-edged croon, a grim parody of song. “Like the sailor said, quote! Ain't that a hooole in the booooat!” The laugh died away again. Moments passed. “Hey.” A pause. “Hey, come on, now. Look at me.” Rhinehart glanced up, meeting the milky gaze again. “I remembered what I come to tell you. You gonna be waking up soon, and you gonna need every bit of strength you can find. You can't be beating ourself down no more, Whinehart, y'hear?” And there was a pleading, pitiable tone in the voice. “P-please. For my sake? Be a pal, huh?” The taste of bile was stronger than ever as the gashed, bloody hand groped blindly into the bowl, grasping the phaser. To be faced with it like this, it was too much to bear. The snub nose of the phaser came up, rested under the chin, emitter shroud catching and tugging the hairs of his chin. He thumbed it up to maximum power. “HEY! HEY WAIT!” The monster's voice cracked as it cried out. “MAN, I FORGIVE YOU. IT'S OKAY! YOU HEAR ME? JUST GO EASY HERE IT'LL BE OKAY OH GOD-” “I'm sorry,” Rhinehart muttered and, screwing up his eyes, jabbed his bloody thumb savagely against the activation plate. And there was nothing. Nothing but a hollow click. Like everything else in this place, the weapon was devoid of life. The monster looked back at him, face unreadable. Rhinehart's own face flushed, the blood boiling in his torso. “You're a god damn idiot sometimes, Whinehart, you know that?” the reflection said at last, resignation in its voice. The shame turned to inexplicable fury, and Rhinehart brought the phaser over his shoulder, as if to hurl it as far away as he could. “You will never, ever learn, will you?” And shards of the mirror spun outwards as the butt of the phaser grip hammered into the face of his reflection, once, twice and yet again and again. And the entirety of his universe seemed to dwindle and spiral and funnel into the centre of the spiderweb of cracks and he was spinning, falling, tumbling, falling and before he was lost to it once more, he heard the ragged voice bitterly singing: “Tell me quick, oh ain't love a kick? Tell me quick, ain't love a kick in the head?” (Reply none) (Posted by Noel) --------------------------------------------------------------------- (USS Champlain – Sickbay – ACMO, Ensign Henna-star - 0101) Henna walked into the intensive care ward. The room was silent, as the extraction team had just left. She walked towards the bed and looked down at the man’s face before her. He was slightly burned on his left cheek, she noticed. However, he looked peaceful as if just in a deep sleep. His body was perfectly still apart from the raise and fall of his chest as he breathed in and out. There before her lay Olen Rhinehart. She began a more thorough examination. After looking at him more intensively she found that his right leg had been broken in three different places, his left arm had burned really badly, his chest and stomach were also burned and most of this body had been bruised. ~Probably from the impact. He must have hit his head extremely hard~ she thought to herself. As he lay in his unconscious state, she got to work on making him more comfortable, not that it looked like he was in any pain. She walked across the room, picked up the bone knitting tools, and set to work on his leg. His body never moved as she tried to fix his leg. She found that his body was so relax and calm she didn’t really want to disturb him. After some time she had managed to fix his leg and began using tissue menders around the leg. Henna began to feel the tiredness creep onto her. She had spent a long time on Rhinehart and had only just managed to fix his leg. She began thinking about Rhinehart, himself, not his injuries. ~What if he never wakes up from his present state? And will he be able to remember who he is and what happen to him?~ She quickly pushed this thought out of her mind and started thinking of the job at hand. She glance back at his face, but still no sign of any movement. She felt slightly disappointed in the fact that he was still asleep, off dreaming somewhere and at the fact that she still hadn’t even started on the his burns. She got the Dermal Regenerator and began to move it across his body. Backwards and forwards she moved up and down his body. Within seconds she could see that most of the bruises had vanished. She stopped the process and found that the burns where still there. She decided against doing it again and would wait awhile to see if there were any changes. (Reply None) (Posted by Becky) --------------------------------------------------------------------- (USS Champlain, Main Engineering – Crewman Carol Anderson– 0142) =^=Very well crewman. Warp capability is a priority so I want regular status reports.=^= Carol rolled her eyes , glad that acting chief couldn't see her ~ no , I thought I'd leave you out of the loop , pffft ~ , but other the com she said " Aye , regular as clockwork " Carol was about to sign off , when Gabe continued =^=Oh and Crewman, give me a call if you need anything, ok? I understand you're all under a lot of pressure.=^= , ~ ohh , he's a sweety after all ~ , " Yes boss, but not as much pressure as you . look after yourself , Anderson out ". and with that she rushed of to inform the crewmen who would be working with them on the Pylon and to get ready herself , as she did so she informed ensign Bird , over the comms , who to expect . ( Reply Any ) ( Posted By Paul ) --------------------------------------------------------------------- (USS Champlain, Dorsal Nacelle Pylon– SCPO - Alonzo DiCosta– 0205) The ensign stood for a few moments just thinking, and Alonzo wondered if he'd been to hard on the boy. Finally after a few moments he responded. " You're right Chief. Although I have no problem with being decisive, as you've guessed, I'm not good around people. But I'm going to try to be more 'in command ' " "Well. That's a good thing then sir. We'll be doing well to have you give us proper orders. And I think it best that you make sure you run this little repair. Show the men what you're made of." Al replied smiling. " Very well." the officer replied. "You'll do fine, sir. And from the sound of it. Here's you chance to get started." he added. The sound of the repair team clamoring through the pylons up the ladders made an easy marker for the two men to judge how long they had before they arrived. It didn't take very long before the entire team had reached them and Bird, acting on the discussion they had just had, took charge. Al smiled as the repair assignments were handed out. (Reply Bird) (posted by Daniel Greene) --------------------------------------------------------------------- (USS Wyvern, Brig – Asst. Sec/Tac, Ensign Sam Moto - 0213) A single bead of sweat trickled across his forehead before dripping onto the cold, callous, durasteel floor. ~So the heating has packed in as well now!~ he grumbled in his head. A thin beam of blue/white light entered his eyes as his lids clawed their way open. A brilliant light was soon replaced by a semi translucent wall, a chair leg and an orange door stood behind this. Now he felt the dull ache of his ribs and neck, the spine chilling cold of the floor and his arm contorted into a most unpleasant position. A cough was all that came from the deep inhale he had fought to bring to his lungs. sharp short gasps brought him to some kind of steady repetitive state and now he willed for his arms to move. Rolling slowly to his front, his arms pressed against the smooth now warming floor below, he pushed with all his strength, lifting his torso into the air, tucking his trailing legs beneath him before giving one final exertion which brought him, rather shakily, to his feet. Turning left and right, slowly, but feeling like a hurricane passed through his skull with each turn of his head, Sam noticed the familiar surroundings of his cell. An 8x10ft square area barricaded with a 140 volt force field which contained him like a wild beast. He noticed a small splash of blood on the corner of his bed, and the stains across the sheets, and then swiftly felt the trickle of a warm thick liquid run through his brown/red hair. Touching his wound Sam winced with pain, remembering the jolt that had knocked him off balance, the ship lurching as if it had hit a great wall in space, and then he remembered the falling, then darkness. ~How long was I out for?~ he eased himself onto the bed, his body a seeming mass of aching and dull throbbing. ~Well I don’t know what’s worse, the fact I’m still here or that the 52nd ship that the Wyvern intercepted seemed to have suffered a similar, if not more spectacular end as my transport vessel~. His two weeks aboard had consisted of nothing but the room he now stood, slightly shakily, in, the questioning ending at; "Sam Phillips Moto, Ensign, Junior Grade". Rubbing his head he took another look around this small world of his that most called a brig. the absence of a guard did not at first raise questions, however as the thought crossed Sam's mind the orange door hissed and began to open . . . ~here we go again~ (Reply O'Shea) (Posted by Nick) --------------------------------------------------------------------- (USS Wyvern, Brig - Assistant Security and Tactical Chief, Ensign Sam Moto -0221) As the first officer stepped through the door Sam immediately straightened himself, smoothing his uniform and felt a sense of anticipation creep along his neck, ~why is the First officer here? He hasn’t spoken to me for a week now. What do they want from me now?~ Sam felt more intrigue than anxiety at this new event. "Ensign Moto. These men are security officers from the USS Champlain. Which is a ship assigned to the 52nd fleet. You're to be released to their custody." These words came as quiet a shock to Sam, and he watched in mild disbelief as the FO walked over to the panel on the wall, lowering the forcefield that had been the barrier between them only seconds ago. The FO again turned to Sam and spoke "It seems that we won't be having a court-martial for you today ensign. Do you require medical attention?" Seeing the regretted look in O’Shea’s eyes Sam stood to attention and addressed the FO, “No sir, I believe that I’ve been through worse, and from what I gather this ship has enough problems to be dealing with without me getting in the way” he smiled a little towards the First Officer as he spoke, knowing that what this man before him must have been through in the past few hours will have tested him to his limit. And after all, he may have been the enemy, but he was still a fellow Starfleet officer, fighting for what he believed was right, and he deserved respect for that. (Reply O’Shea IYW) Sam looked now towards the two security officers positioned either side of the door, their golden uniforms mimicking his own, albeit they sported a COMM badge whereas Sam did not. “Gentlemen, I believe you now lead the way” Sam grinned as he stepped over the threshold of his cell, taking long strides towards the door before turning to look firstly at his cell then towards O’Shea. “I thank you for your hospitality and hope you receive the same from those aboard the Champlain, my only regret is we did not meet under more gracious circumstances.” Sam then bowed his head slightly. (Reply O’Shea IYW) Sam then took his leave with the two security officers. He was escorted to a turbolift around 60 yards from the Brig, where the officer to his left called for the bridge. Sam stood in silence as the turbolift moved through the ship, passing the decks until it slid to a gentle stop. The doors opened to reveal a rather battered command deck, various Champlain crew working to repair workstations or report the status of the ship to the man sat in the command chair, who now turned round to look at Sam as he left the Turbolift. Walking to the Lieutenant, the security officers still flanking him as he went, Sam addressed him, “Ensign Sam Moto, formerly of the USS Paladin, captured en-route to the USS Perception, Sir” (Reply Janeway) (Posted by Nick) --------------------------------------------------------------------- (USS Champlain - Bridge- Science Station on bridge - SO - Ensign SG Derrick LaQua - 0258) LaQua finished typing in the last piece of information her could remember on all the missions from a linguists point of view. The machine and the people he felt he killed still bothered him. He could hear their voices still echoing in his mind and his heart felt like he had messed up somehow but what was done was done. He read over the report one last time to make shure nothing was left out and then put his name on it and got it ready to send off. He sat back in his chair and rubbed his temples. ~Man I am glad that is done.To much information to remember.I am slipping a little.Maby I need to log some holodeck time to relax and get back in the grove of things.~ He looked around and saw the hussle and bussel of the bridge. He looked over and saw Sullivan. He smiled to himself and for the first time noticed how beautiful she relly was.He was entranced with her eyes. They say that the eyes are the window to the soul and hers was a pair he could very much get lost in.LaQua felt a tinge in his heart and rembered that fealing.Not sence he lost T'Skyr had he felt that fealing. He smiled again and stood up. He looked toward Sullivans way and asked,"Sullivan I have finished my report for starfleet.Would you like to look it over before I send it?" (reply Sullivan) "If I am no longer needed on the bridge I request permission to go to sick bay and see how Rhineheart is doing please?" asked LaQua. (reply Sullivan) (Reply Sullivan) (Posted John R Merriott) --------------------------------------------------------------------- (USS Wyvern - Brig – FO Commander Martin O'Shea - 0229) “No sir, I believe that I’ve been through worse, and from what I gather this ship has enough problems to be dealing with without me getting in the way” he smiled a little towards the First Officer as he spoke. "Have it your way, but I do suggest you reconsider having a doctor look at that." Martin replied. “Gentlemen, I believe you now lead the way” he said to the two security officers. Sam grinned as he stepped over the threshold of his cell, taking long strides towards the door before turning to look firstly at his cell then towards O’Shea. “I thank you for your hospitality and hope you receive the same from those aboard the Champlain, my only regret is we did not meet under more gracious circumstances.” Sam then bowed his head slightly. Martin nodded back. Then the most incredible thing happened. Ensign Moto left the brig flanked by both security officers while Martin stood unescorted in the brig. It was as if he was suddenly the prisoner and Martin was not. To say that the thought of causing a great deal of trouble for his captors hadn't immediately crossed his mind would have been an understatement. And while it may have been his duty to attempt escape and to turn the tables on the crew of the Wyvern, Martin had given his word. He stood there for a few moments wondering if this was a test of some sort. Or maybe a perverse joke. After a short while he decided it was just a fluke incident, that two security guards assigned to be his escorts had instead just left him alone to escort a prisoner from the brig to the bridge. Martin decided to do the right thing. Janeway and Frazier had trusted him when they probably shouldn't have and he'd given his word. They had kept their end of the agreement, so now he'd keep his. (reply none) (posted by Daniel Greene) --------------------------------------------------------------------- (USS Champlain – Sickbay – 3O/Acting CO Lt. Bree Frazier - 0230) It was late, and Bree was tired. She would have been tired even had it not been for her injury… the day had been long and hard. Very hard. The medics had played with their bone-knitters and their tissue menders, but she was still aching and tender, having refused any strong pain medication. She wasn't done yet, she couldn't afford to have her mind hazy. There was still more to be done. She could hear his last words echo in her mind… ` Take care of them… ~ She had promised, and rest would have wait until that promise was kept, for this night at least. As she waited to be officially released, she carefully parked herself in front of one of sickbay's terminals, keyed in her own codes, and brought up a remote Bridge screen. ~No sense putting it off any longer…~ She opened a shipwide hailing channel, and took a deep, careful breath. "USS Champlain, this is Third Officer Lieutenant Brianna Frazier. We have engaged and subdued the Wyvern, a ship of Doenitz's Fleet. As soon as both ships are capable of warp, we will proceed to Starbase Geneva… estimated time of arrival, approximately two weeks." She stopped for a moment, steeling herself, making sure her voice didn't shake as she continued. "Captain Wolfe has been killed in action. Commander Mason is medically indisposed. As Third Officer, I am currently in command of the Champlain, until she can be returned to Geneva, at which time a new Captain will be assigned. Please send all reports to Lieutenant Sullivan on the Bridge until further orders. If you have any questions, please text and forward to the office of the Chief of Ops. All Alpha shift personnel who are still on duty, release your post to Gamma shifters as soon as possible and retire. Senior staff, briefing at 1100 tomorrow, ready room. Frazier out," she said, and closed the channel, her head dropping into her trembling hand for a moment. But only for a moment. After a sigh, she gathered herself for the next step. The situation in Engineering had concerned her ever since launch, and their failure to answer her many hails from the Bridge earlier in the battle didn't help her discomfort now that the ship was in trouble. However, she realized they must have their hands full… and there might be some… confusion as to who should report to the Bridge. She considered what to do about that as she tapped her com badge for a direct channel to T'Larah. "T'Larah, Bree. How's it going up there? Did Engineering ever get around to reporting in?" (Reply T'Larah) "All right, carry on. Keep things intact for me until I can get out of here… patch Jono through to me here when he calls, sickbay terminal 4-C. Oh, and, ah, you're my acting 2O, if you'll take it on until we get this beast docked, OK?" Bree added, wondering if a smile could be heard over a com badge, even a weary smile. (Reply T'Larah, Jono) (Posted by Connie) --------------------------------------------------------------------- (USS Champlain – Bridge - Ops/Conn - Ensign Smith -0231) =^=USS Champlain, this is Third Officer Lieutenant Brianna Frazier. We have engaged and subdued the Wyvern, a ship of Doenitz's Fleet. As soon as both ships are capable of warp, we will proceed to Starbase Geneva… estimated time of arrival, approximately two weeks. Captain Wolfe has been killed in action. Commander Mason is medically indisposed. As Third Officer, I am currently in command of the Champlain, until she can be returned to Geneva, at which time a new Captain will be assigned. Please send all reports to Lieutenant Sullivan on the Bridge until further orders. If you have any questions, please text and forward to the office of the Chief of Ops. All Alpha shift personnel who are still on duty, release your post to Gamma shifters as soon as possible and retire. Senior staff, briefing at 1100 tomorrow, ready room. Frazier out,=^= ~Looks like my time at the helm will soon be over~ Robert looked at the console. He there was still reduced out put from the starboard saucer impulse engine but apart from that every thing seamed fine. He felt some one stand next to him. He looked up to see the Gamma shift helmswoman standing beside him. He reluctantly released his chair as the helmswoman took his place. “ The starboard saucer impulse engine is a bit temperamental at the moment. I’ve alerted engineering. They’ll get round to it as soon as they can.” He walked over to the Ops console and quickly glanced over the damage report. ~Hmm the secondary computer is still showing error signs. As well as problems with the EPS junctions~ He crossed the bridge and looked at Sullivan. “I’ll see you later sir.” There was no point in saying tomorrow as it was already in the am. “Hope you get some sleep.” (reply Sullivan IYW) Robert nodded and headed for the turbolift. He had a busy morning ahead of him but he had one thing to do first. (reply Sullivan, any) (posted by Robbie) --------------------------------------------------------------------- (USS Champlain, Deck 5 - SO Ens.(Sg) Ro'Dal - 0232) During the battle, the Takaran SO had been kept busy patrolling decks 5 and 6 with Security Officer George Kitchener, ever watchful and alert for any sign of boarders and prepared to head for trouble if necessary. Although he was a human and weaker than her, he had proved his worth on several occasions and Ro' liked working with him. They had an affinity; he seemed to know what she (his superior officer) expected of him without her speaking, just a look was sufficient; together they worked like an efficient, well-oiled machine and covered each other's backs. When they had heard that the battle was over and the Wyvern was defeated they had exchanged a look and a smile and immediately had began their journey back to the Security Department where they'd soon be relieved by the Gamma shift. ~And not a moment to soon.~ Ro' thought to herself, she was getting tired and was ready for some free time. ~Maybe I'll have a nap then supper in ten forward, perhaps there'll be a celebration there for our victory.~ They only had one more room to check and then their patrol was finished, a couple of minutes later they were stepping into the turbo lift. While on the way, the news of Captain Wolfe's death had come as a shock, but Ro'Dal felt no grief at the loss, for she hadn't come to know him well as some of her fellow officers had, she had always felt that it was inappropriate for an inferior to befriend their Captain, he had earned her respect but her duty was to the ship and its crew, that was where her loyalties lay. The Captain had died for his ship and the crew and Ro'Dal would do the same if it was her fate to do so, but she wasn't without sorrow in empathy with Lt. Frazier, for anyone with eyes in their heads could tell she cared for Wolfe deeply although she managed to hide her grief as she had informed the crew of the Captain's demise, the FO's incapacitation and the changes in command officers, but it was apparent that Frazier was exhausted, her fatigue showed in her voice. (reply none) (posted by Sal) --------------------------------------------------------------------- (USS Wyvern, Captains Ready Room - Sec Chief/Acting FO, Lt. Jono Janeway - 0233) Jono once again put his head in his hands while he waited for the Ensign to patch his comm. line through to the Sickbay. He had been informed that under Lt. Frazier's command, he was to be patched straight through to the console Bree was operating from sickbay. Jono was only all to happy to oblige as he wanted to speak with Bree Frazier anyway. He looked around the room as he lifted his head out of his hands, the walls were quite barren nothing particular caught his eye. A few shelves had been knocked over, whether that was from the Champlains attack or Smithwicks anger, Jono probably wouldnt ever find out. There was a small beep on his console telling him the patch had gone through and he tapped a button for the screen to activate. He nodded slightly at the sight of Bree's face, she looked like she was holding herself together and was keeping strong. There was a moment of silence before Jono said anything and when he did all he said was, "Are you OK?" there had been too much loss in the last 2 hours, he wanted to make sure that at the very least, Bree was OK. "I have a few things to report to you at the moment. But I'll have an official report on your desk by 0800." (Reply Bree) Jono felt the hint of a smile creep onto his face and nodded slightly, "O'Shea seems to be a respectable person, I dont think we'll have a problem with him. He mentioned to me that they were keeping a 52nd fleet prisoner from the USS Paladin in the brig. I've sent one of my men to pick him up and bring him to me so I can meet with him. An Sam Philips Moto apparently... So, whats the plan? Are we heading back to Geneva for repairs, or are we making a pit stop somewhere closer to drop of the Wyvern's crew? If so when do you want the Wyvern ready for departure...?" He said trying to formalise his voice, but finding it difficult to do so. After trying he decided to drop it back down to a friendly voice, after all Frazier was a friend. Not an enemy. (Reply Bree) (Posted by Jono) --------------------------------------------------------------------- (USS Champlain – Sickbay – ACMO, Ensign Henna-star - 0234) Henna walked away from the intensive care ward and began to move across the sickbay floor. Her head was full of questions and was very distracted. It was overcrowded with both casualties and medics. Never before had she seen so many people packed into such a small space. As she walked through the crowd, in one of the terminals, Lieutenant Frazier called out to her. Slightly startled to see her, Henna moved over to her. "Dr. Henna-star, I'm sorry, but… am I cleared to get out of here? And… uh… doctor…How is he? Olen… I mean, uh, Counselor Rhinehart… When can I see him?" she said to Henna. Henna could see that she was obviously upset about what had happened to Rhinehart and saw that she was very distressed. Henna sat down beside her and looked at her. She wanted to hug her and tell her everything was fine but obviously it was not and it would be improper for her to do so. She took her time, choosing her words carefully. “Yes, you are clear to go but I need to remind you that you need to rest and not over do anything. You have been through a distressing time and now more than ever you should try and find time to rest as you have just been injured.” Henna paused not knowing how to go about telling her about Rhinehart. ~Here goes~ she thought trying to encourage herself. “As for Counselor Rhinehart, he is stable but is in a state of concussion and is now in an unconscious state. His upper body has been badly burnt and his leg was broken but that has been mended.” Again, Henna paused to let this sink in. Then she began again. “It is impossible to tell if or when he shall awake, it could be days or it could be weeks. Perhaps even months in the most extreme circumstances. In addition, if he does awake he may not remember why he is here or in fact who he is.” She stopped, as this was obviously a lot for any person to take in. She didn’t like to be the barer of bad news especially when nothing was for certain. “As for seeing Counselor Rhinehart, you may go and see him if you want to. However, I would like to check up on him first, which I must get back to. Please get some rest and not over do things and I will update you on Rhineharts condition if there is any change, but please feel free to visit him,” She said to Frazier. With that, she walked away back towards the intensive care ward. (Reply none) (Posted by Becky) --------------------------------------------------------------------- (USS Champlain – Sickbay – 3O/Acting CO Lt. Bree Frazier - 0235) After closing the channel, to T'Larah, the situation in Engineering knocked insistently again at the door of Bree's tired brain. As she forced herself to think, a face appeared in her mind… a very furry face. Immediately, Brianna found herself locked in a debate with… herself. Inner voice 1: ~ You've GOT to be kidding!! ~ Inner voice 2: ~ Well, why not? ~ He has no self-confidence! ~ ~ Yeah, but how's he going to get any built up if he never gets the chance? You KNOW he knows his business. ~ ~ Well… yes, but… ~ ~ And you know you can trust him. ~ ~ Of course, but can he make command decisions? ~ ~ Could you, at first? How did you learn that, Bree? By doing it… right? ~ ~ Well, yes, but… ~ ~ But WHAT? Who would you rather have at your side right now, Bree… someone who hides, who doesn't seem to want to communicate with you, who sometimes seems to have his own secret agenda; or one who always jumps in there with both feet, even when he's not too sure of himself, who can work as part of a team, and who obviously has the best interests of this ship at heart? Inner Voice 1 sighed. She knew she'd been beaten. ~ All right, all right, call him… ~ Bree smiled and tapped her com badge as IV1 finally shut up and crawled off into a corner to sulk. "Ensign Bird, this is Lieutenant Frazier. Listen, I know you're busy, but I need to see you for just a few minutes. Meet me in Sick Bay in ten minutes… I won't keep you for long." (Reply Bird) As Bree waited for the Birdman to arrive, she glanced around at the hectic scene in sick bay. ~ So many… ~ She sighed and tapped her com badge again. "Frazier to Goldmark. What have you got so far?" she said, trying her best not to think about one in particular of the strange ship's coroner's charges. (Reply Goldmark) ~ One more, then you can ask about him, at least… ~ Bree thought as the doctors buzzed around her, the one thing that had been in the back of her mind since she came here, the thing she longed to do the most, put off for just a little while longer. "Lieutenant Frazier to Lieutenant Bohb and Ensign Ro'Dal. Please prepare Cargo Bay Four to receive prisoners of war from the Wyvern. Contact Lieutenant Janeway on the Wyvern for the particulars. Acknowledge." (Reply Bohb, Ro'Dal) A soft blur of green in a white coat caught Bree's attention as Henna-star dashed past her. She was no doubt on some mission of mercy, but Bree needed a little mercy too. ~ This won't take long… ~ "Dr. Henna-star, I'm sorry, but… am I cleared to get out of here? And… uh… doctor…" Bree was now unable to keep the slight tremor out of her voice as she glanced toward surgery, where she knew they had taken Olen. "How is he? Olen… I mean, uh, Counselor Rhinehart… When can I see him?" (Reply Henna-star) (Posted by Connie) --------------------------------------------------------------------- (USS Champlain – Sickbay – Chief Nurse Kitty Fisher - 0236) Kitty gazed around the main Sickbay. It was busy, but thankfully it now looked like the controlled kind of busy instead of the near chaos busy it had been several hours ago. The doors opened and she turned expecting more casualties but thankfully it was the two med techs she had sent our half an hour ago, one to restock their supplies and one to go get coffee and sandwiches. Crossing over to them she grinned, "Good boys." The one with the anti-grav full of supplies simply grinned back and trundled off to restock sickbay. She turned to the other one. "Just dump everything in the CMO's office for now. I don't think anyone will mind and it keeps it out of the way. When you've done that circulate round the staff and let them know that there's coffee and sandwiches available if they want them. If any patient's ask for some check with either a doctor or nurse first, ok." Watching him nod and head off to the CMO's office she crossed to the nearest terminal and started calling up the latest reports from the triage teams going through the ship. That done she turned to find the nearest doctor and give her report. She finally found the ACMO in Intensive Care treating the counsellor and moved round the bed waiting until Henna-star looked up. "Hello doctor, thought you might like an update on the triage teams. Their latest report suggest that we might be over the worst with regard to the seriously injured. They seem to be treating minor injuries on site now rather than having to send people to sickbay, so, if we're lucky we should be seeing casualties starting to tail off soon. I've had someone go round restocking all our supplies and I've had someone else round up some coffee and sandwiches and put them in the CMO's Office. Once you finish up here it might be an idea if you took five minutes yourself for a quick bite and a coffee. (Reply Henna-star) (Posted by Marilyn) --------------------------------------------------------------------- (USS Champlain, Deck 15, Security Office - SO Ens.(Sg) Ro'Dal - 0237) "I'm sure glad I'm not in command, George." She told him as they stepped into the Security Department a minute later, "all that responsibility and working around the clock! It's bad enough for the likes of us, but it's easier to take orders than to give them, I wouldn't exchange places with Lt. Frazier for all the Gobalay in the known quadrants." George chuckled and nodded although he had no idea what Gobalay were, he was more than content to be a simple security officer, and was about to voice his agreement and then ask Ro'Dal what it was, when a message came through for Ro' and Bohb from the ACO, for them to go to Cargo Bay 4 and prepare it for the Wyvern prisoners. Ro' tapped her commbadge, rolling her eyes at George as if to say 'no peace for the wicked'. George just shrugged sympathetically and patted her shoulder before heading over to the replicator for a drink. "Ensign Ro'Dal acknowledging, Lieutenant." She replied as her eyes searched the room to see if Lt. Bohb was there or if she'd have to meet him in the cargo bay. It looked like it would be a long time before she got any rest, but then if Lt. Frazier could push herself, a strong Takaran female like Ro'Dal could too. (Reply Bohb) (posted by Sal) --------------------------------------------------------------------- (USS Wyvern, Cargo Bay 1, Lt - CTAC/SEC Soolay Tenbor-0238) Soolay stood next to the security force field tapping the field periodically with her index finger. Each time she did so, she watched as the security officers turned to regard her. She could tell that they were getting annoyed. Not that she cared, really. They were the enemy and Soolay would gladly take the two security men apart if she hadn't been ordered by O'Shea to stand down. Despite her personal feelings to wards these Seditionists, she respected Martin's decision and unfortunately agreed with his assessment. Some of the crew were being beamed of the ship, bound for whatever large area that the Champlain had converted into a holding cell for the Wyvern's crew. The process was going slowly, because the Champlain crew had to treat any injuries and record the vital statistics of the Wyvern's crew. Soolay had seen to it that there wasn't much information available to go on. She had purged all the intelligence, strategic and personnel information from the computer and placed copies of the Federation Anthem in their place. They were forced to do things the hard way. She tapped the field again, this time smiling as she did so. Once of the security officers, an ensign glared at her before turning back to the corridor. Soolay turned to look back into the holding area, wondering how long she'd be a prisoner and whether she would be executed for treason at the hands of the Sedition. Her thoughts were shaken when she one of the guards outside started shouting. Down! Get down on the ground now!" the man shouted. "Get down now!" his partner echoed. Both men had drawn their phasers. "I'm Lieutenant Commander O'Shea." she heard Martin reply. She turned to peer through the security field. Martin was heading towards the cargo bay. His hands were up. "Down now!" the first of the two officers shouted. "Lieutenant Jane-" Martin started to reply. The first security officer fired on him. "Martin!" she screamed. " Damn you, he's unarmed!" "Jane…way… sent…" he gasped as the second security officer fired his phaser. Soolay watched as Martin collapsed on the floor. She pounded her hands against the force field, which buzzed with the activity. Several of the other officers and crew of the Wyvern took notice and started to stand and head for the field. One of the security men dragged Martin by his wrists to the security field. His partner turned his phaser towards the field as it was lowered. "You!" he barked pointing the weapon directly at Soolay. " Take him inside." Soolay stood and balled her hands into fists. She was Furious. "You didn't have to stun him!" she yelled at the man, wagging her finger at him, "He was unarmed!" She took a step forward to comply. Her body was filled with a sudden rush of pain. Her knees buckled and she collapsed on the floor panting. ~The bastard shot me!~ she realized then blacked out. (reply none) (posted by Daniel Greene) --------------------------------------------------------------------- (USS Champlain – Sickbay – ACMO, Ensign Henna-star - 0237) Henna had begun treating the burns of counsellor Rhinehart again, but couldn’t shift the image out of her head of Lieutenant Frazier’s face with the concern for her co-worker. Henna felt her heart go out to her, as she was concerned for him as well. ~I wish I wouldn’t get so involved with the patients. However, I suppose that has helped me to become a better doctor than what I had ever believed to be~ she thought to herself. She began to move the Dermal Regenerator up and down over his chest. It was only then that she noticed that she was being watched. She looked up to find a nurse standing there. "Hello doctor, thought you might like an update on the triage teams. Their latest report suggests that we might be over the worst with regard to the seriously injured. They seem to be treating minor injuries on site now rather than having to send people to sickbay, so, if we're lucky we should be seeing casualties starting to tail off soon. I've had someone go round restocking all our supplies and I've had someone else round up some coffee and sandwiches and put them in the CMO's Office. Once you finish up here it might be an idea if you took five minutes yourself for a quick bite and a coffee.” The nurse said to her. “Thank-you I could do with a break.” She felt the tidiness creep over her. She really needed a rest. Her head fell down to look at Rhinehart. The burns where healing nicely and were nearly gone. One more treatment and the burns should be healed. She looked over him. Still no change. Feeling disappointed with this fact she decided it was time for a break. She looked up back at the nurse. “I think ill take you up on that coffee.” She said to her. “Would you like to join me?” (Reply Nurse Fisher) (Posted by Becky) --------------------------------------------------------------------- (USS Wyvern - Cargo Bay One – FO Commander Martin O'Shea - 0240) Martin approached the doors to the cargo bay. There was a security officer on either side of the doors which were locked open. A shimmering forcefield across the portal kept the prisoners inside. The security officer on the left of the door noticed him first and for a moment seemed to hesitate. Suddenly the man drew his phaser and started shouting at Martin. "Down! Get down on the ground now!" the man shouted. His partner pulled his phaser also, he echoed his partner's command. "I'm Lieutenant Commander O'Shea." Martin started to say. "Down now!" the first of the two officers shouted. "Lieutenant Jane-" Martin attempted, but was suddenly filled with pain as the security officer on the left fired his phaser on stun directly into his chest. Martin struggled to breathe and stay standing. He tried to explain. "Jane…way… sent…" he gasped as the second security officer fired his phaser. Martin's world spun suddenly and he collapsed in a heap on the deck unconscious. (reply Any Champlain Officer on the Wyvern) (posted by Daniel Greene) --------------------------------------------------------------------- (USS Champlain, Dorsal Nacelle Pylon – ACEO - Ensign Paul Bird – 0236) The Captain dead. The Captain was Dead . The simple fact of the matter would not sink into Paul's bemused brain . He had come to a stop as he was trying to work on the damaged coil of the dorsal warp engine , whilst his mind tried to put in it proper place the information overload it had just been given from CO3 Frazier , over the com , no that was now acting captain Frazier . Paul yanked his hand back as he realised the burning smell he had not realised he could detect turned out to be from the back of his hand . Strangely this act snapped Paul's brain back into action , and he turned to Crewman Santigo , who was working close by and had also stopped at the news , but before he could get the crewman's attention and get him back to work his com badge twirpped . =^= Ensign Bird, this is Lieutenant Frazier. Listen, I know you're busy, but I need to see you for just a few minutes. Meet me in Sick Bay in ten minutes… I won't keep you for long.=^= " Aye Sir , " ~ Captain~ " Be right with you " ~ What going to happen now . After chiving Santiago up , and showing him where he had got to on the repairs , Paul made his way to the nearest turbo lift . On the way to Sick bay , Paul got SCPO Dicosta on his Comms " Chief , I've been called away by Lt . Frazier , so your in charge whilst I'm away . She said she wanted me for a short while , so no need to replace me on the coils . " ( Reply Dicosta ) " Very good chief , Carry on . " ( Reply Dicosta ) (posted by Paul) --------------------------------------------------------------------- (USS Champlain – Sickbay - Ops/Conn - Ensign Smith - 0245) Robert entered sickbay and looked around at the busy with people working hard. he had been delayed getting here as he had been diverted due to the battle damage but he had avetualy arrived. ~Hope they get some sleep~ He saw the person he had come to see. She was talking to doctor Henna-star. Although Bree was his immediate boss as the chief of Ops as well as the skipper. She was also the closed person Robert could call a friend on board. After the incident with Alexander and being accused of a spy friends were few and far between. ~Hope she is okay~ He waited until the doctor had finished speaking to Bree and then stepped forward. He nodded to the Henna-star as she stepped over to Bree. “Hallo Bree how are you feeling?” (reply Frazer) “Is there any thing I can do or get for you?” (reply Frazer) (reply Frazer, any) (posted by Robbie) --------------------------------------------------------------------- (USS Champlain, Dorsal Nacelle Pylon– SCPO - Alonzo DiCosta– 0247) "A little more then, lads." Al said as the two junior engineers levered the SIF generator back into place. There was a resounding thump as the device settled into it's position. Al smiled. "There, she goes." he retorted," just like a wanton woman back to the bedchamber. Right where she belongs." The two other engineers snickered. "Take a break gents, you've earned it. I'll get her hooked back up while you do." The two other engineers sat down as DiCosta squeezed his way past the end of the newly repositioned generator. He had just spread out his tool kit when his commbadge chimed. =^=Chief , I've been called away by Lt . Frazier, so your in charge whilst I'm away . She said she wanted me for a short while, so no need to replace me on the coils . =^= Ensign Bird's voice sounded over the infernal device. "Aye, sir. I'll save your place on the level gang, don't you worry about it none." he replied. =^=Very good chief, Carry on. =^= "Aye, sir. DiCosta out." he replied. (reply None) (posted Daniel Greene) --------------------------------------------------------------------- (USS Champlain – Engineering – Nurse Alamin Kutcac - 0249) “There you go.” Alamin said as he set the dermal regenerator back into his kit. The young engineer had been burned by an exploding console, though not severely. A hypospray cocktail of painkillers and anti-microbials was always first on the list after a burn patient was assessed, but the dermal regenerator did a lot for the morale of any patient. “Be sure to follow up with Sickbay in the next 48 hours, though you should be fine. If you begin feeling worse, please contact Sickbay immediately.” Standing up, Alamin searched the room for any remaining patients. The other nurses in the team were taking care of the minor injuries that had stayed in Engineering. Burns, sprains, small lacerations and contusions – none had to be sent to Sickbay, especially when there were enough serious injuries to go around. ~Best report in…~ He thought, when he noticed another Engineer near him, who was working on repairing something or other, groaning in pain. “Crewman…please come out from there and let me scan you.” Alamin said loudly, ducking down to catch her eye. “Ugh…I’m FINE,” came the irritated answer. The older female grunted as she stood up with an anxious look on her face. “I need to get back to work, Nurse. I am OK, really. Just took a spill and got knocked about a bit.” “Well, the beeping on this Medical Tricorder says otherwise. You need to be sent to Sickbay for evaluation immediately. You have ruptured spleen. You should barely be able to walk.” Alamin sighed as he put his hand on the woman and gave her a comforting nod. “Nurse Alamin to Doctor Henna-star. I have a patient with a ruptured spleen that needs immediate evaluation. Which bio-bed in the Intensive care section shall I have her transported to?” (Reply Henna-star) (Posted by Sarah Feldman) --------------------------------------------------------------------- (USS Wyvern, Bridge - Sec Officer, Lt(JG) Esiol Uran - 0250) Uran moved a little in the command chair, he kept looking around the bridge... He wasnt comfortable sitting where he was, but when Janeway left the bridge.. It left Uran the ranking officer on the bridge, therefore he took command. There wasnt many orders to be dished out the teams already had there orders from Janeway it was just making sure they were carried out. Ryan had entered the Bridge about 10 minutes ago obviously looking for Janeway, she had Ensign Hawk in tow, he didnt look pleased at all. When Ryan had hit the doorchime and received no answer, Uran took it upon himself to find out what Janeway was doing.. had something happened to his commander..? He had the officer at operations check what was active in the ready room and had found an out-going transmission to the Champlain. He quickly told Ryan that Janeway was obviously in discussion with the Champlain, planning there next move and that Ryan should wait for Janeway. It seemed to Uran that Ryan wasnt in much of a hurry, so waited. But now, the turbolift opened once more. Out walked two security guards and a man dressed in gold security colours, no pips, no comm. badge. The man walked up to him, flanked by his guard and said "Ensign Sam Moto, formerly of the USS Paladin, captured en-route to the USS Perception, Sir" The ensign said. Uran let out a small smile ~He's obviously been told to report to Lt. Janeway, I suppose he's never met the Lieutenant before. I look pretty much the opposite of him.~ "Ahh, Welcome... Ensign" Uran said standing up and extending his hand, "I suppose you are looking for Lieutenant Janeway?" Uran said hoping to see a little confusion on the Ensigns face. (Reply Moto) "He's in the ready room speaking with the Champlain. As you can see you're not the only one wishing to speak with him." Uran said nodding his head over to Ryan. "There's a que, I suggest you join the back of it." He said and sat back down. ~Well, well.. Looks who's Mr. Popular.~ He thought to himself, not envying Janeway one bit. (Reply Moto) (Posted by Jono) --------------------------------------------------------------------- (USS Champlain – Sickbay – ACEO - Ensign Paul Bird - 0251) Paul entered the sick bay to talk Lt. Frazier , but spotted the acting CO deep in conversation on her comms , and so he stood back a little to give her privacy . As he stood there waiting he started to clench his burnt hand , and wondered if he had time to talk to a nurse , although looking around they all seemed quite busy , and he didn't think the burn was that bad , ~ It can wait ~ . ( Reply Frazier , Medical Staff ) ( Posted By Paul ) --------------------------------------------------------------------- (USS Wyvern, Cargo Bay 1, Lt Cmdr- CEO Carson Purdue-0250) Carson sat leaned against one of the bulkheads in the cargo bay. His skull felt as if someone had bludgeoned him with a hammer but didn't quite finish the job. He and the rest of his engineering crew had been escorted to the Cargo bay after the surrender of the Wyvern. He had taken up a place near the middle of the room, back against the wall, his head leaned forward in his hands. He absently reached down and scratched a lump of dried blood from the fabric of his gold colored engineering uniform, then snapped his fingernails together to launch the particles trapped under his fingernails onto the deck just in front of him. Dimly he noticed a ruckus. Someone was yelling, and several of the other members of the crew were coming to their feet. He looked up. "What's going on?" he asked a crewman nearby. "Don't know , sir. Something at the security field though." came the reply. "Give me a hand up will ya?" he asked The crewman nodded and helped Carson to his feet. His head swam for a moment but he forced himself to function past the nausea. He started pushing his way through the crew towards the security field. "Coming through!" he bellowed, immediately regretting his choice. His head throbbed even worse now. The crew parted just in time to see the security officer from the Champlain stun Soolay as she reached down to aid Martin, who also looked as if he had been stunned. Then in a moment, the crowd of Wyvern crew surged forward. The two security men had little hope. In an instant, the crowd was upon them, dragging them off their feet and pulling them into the mass of angry Wyvern personnel. Carson forced his way towards the two overwhelmed men. Pushing and pulling Wyvern crewmen out of the way as he went. "Stand Down!" he shouted above the angry din of the crew. The crowd didn't listen. "I said STAND DOWN!" he screamed again. He reached the knot of crew that were beating the two Champlain security officers. He grabbed the closet man to him and pulled him off his feet dropping him onto the deck plating with a dull thud. He looped his arm over another officer’s neck and drug him off the security men, then dumped him unceremoniously to the floor. He kicked a third man in the ribs and he doubled over in pain. The others involved noticed him now and stepped away from the two badly beaten men. Their uniforms were torn and they looked as if they had been beaten by baseball bats. Carson rounded on the crew. "All Hands Attention!" he screamed above the din. "I said, Attention, Damn it!" he repeated as he took a step towards a throng of junior officers. They snapped to attention as he approached, afraid of the rage that billowed in his brown eyes. "This crew will come to attention or so help me, I'll bust every one of you SOBs to Cadet!" The crowd quieted and stopped moving. He turned on two of the men that had been beating on the two security officers. "Fall in with your departments!" he snapped and they scurried off to carry out his orders. "Now listen up!" he bellowed, despite the reverberation ringing through his skull. "There will be no more disobedience from any member of this crew. We are all better officers and enlisted than that. Any further disobedience will be handled by myself, and I'm looking forward to busting some heads and wrecking some careers! So you just try me!" his voice cracked. "Department heads and assistant department heads WILL be held accountable for the actions of their personnel. And I promise you, you don't want me on the warpath!" "Department heads are to take command of their people and insure proper behavior. I want the CMO to report to me immediately along with a nurse, medic or doctor. The rest of you dismissed!" There was a muttering as personnel started talking amongst themselves. But surprisingly, the crew seemed tame compared to a few moments ago. Carson bent down and ripped one of the commbadges from the security man's uniform. The CMO arrived and started looking at the injured men. "They're hurt, but they'll live!" he reported. "Take them into the corridor and wait for Champlain Security to arrive. Doctor Harrison, please check Commander O'Shea and Lieutenant Soolay" Carson ordered. "Yes sir." the doctor replied. He grabbed a crewman that was standing nearby. "Find and bring me the phasers these two were carrying." The crewman nodded and disappeared into the crowd. He pressed the badge between his thumb and forefinger hard and heard it chirp. "Carson Purdue to any Chaplain security officer. Please report to the Cargo bay. You have two injured officers to attend to. Please respond!" (reply Any Champlain Security Officer) (posted by Daniel Greene) --------------------------------------------------------------------- (USS Wyvern, Bridge – ATAC/ASEC Ensign Sam Moto - 0336) "I suppose you are looking for Lieutenant Janeway?" ~This Lieutenant must be crazy, he’s referring to himself in the third person~ Sam couldn’t help the look of confusion that etched itself to his face. “I was under the belief that he would be the one sat in command chair, as he is the commanding officer aboard ship is he not?” Sam questioned, looking up and down the officer again, beginning to feel slightly agitated at the situation. The lieutenant smiled and said nothing for a few moments, Sam could feel a dislike to this man already, but he maintained his calm, patient tone, “Well could you kindly inform me of his current whereabouts, I have been requested, these fine gentlemen came all the way to pick me up after all.” Again the lieutenant smiled rather blandly but noticing the look in Sam’s piercing eyes spoke, "He's in the ready room speaking with the Champlain. As you can see you're not the only one wishing to speak with him." The officer motioned in the direction of several personnel dotted around the bridge, seemingly taking in the view from the viewscreen, which displayed a Starfleet vessel, a modified Galaxy Class that looked like it had seen better days recently. "There's a que, I suggest you join the back of it." Sam’s attention was drawn back to the lieutenant, the smile now gone from his face, he didn’t face Sam anymore, but proceeded to seat himself back in the chair and busy himself with a PADD he had held in his right hand. ~Charming. I can see we will get on like two peas in a rather large, spacious pod.~ It looked like Sam was waiting, so taking a look around once more, seeing the people busy on repairs, Sam took up a position, his silent friends in tow, to the left of the viewer, and proceeded to study the Tri nacelled vessel before him. (Reply Janeway, Any on bridge) (Posted by Nick) --------------------------------------------------------------------- (USS Champlain - Bridge- Science Station on bridge - SO - Ensign SG Derrick LaQua - 0228) LaQua stood there waiting for the responce trying to figure out what is happening to himself as Sullivans reply brought him back to the here and now. "Ensign La Qua, your specialty was xenobiology and linguistics, correct?" asked Sullivan. Derrick thought for a moment and decided to go this route with his answer."Actully Luietent Sullivan it's xenobiology and xenoarchology. Linguistics is just a hobby I do but if you need linguistics done I will be happy to add that into what you need me to do Sullivan." LaQua smiled to her with the hope she would not be upset at him correcting her about his professions. "I did not mention xeno-archeology, because that is the study of alien dead cultures, this culture is quite alive, and Ensign your skills in linguistics, even though just a hobby, are on par with those who call them selves specialists. Also, I seem to remember your use of Linguistics algorithms on DS5 and it's effect on our mission success. That is what I want you to do. The universal translator is a wonderful invention, but a literal translation sometimes loses some of the meaning. That is where personal interpretation of the translated words will come in handy."replied Sullivan. "As the Wyvern has surrendered, we are no longer in need of a tractor beam, perhaps you could take all the information that we have on the new species we have encountered, and compile a report for the Star Fleet First Contact Division, as the specialists may be picking up the mission. I'm sure either way Star Fleet will want to know all we have learned about them." LaQua was about to reply as Sullivan started to speak again. "And, Derrick it's good to have you back up and about." Sullivan replied almost smiling. LaQua looked at Sullivan and noticing the almost smile he tilted his head a little and raised his eyebrow. LaQua smiled back at her and replied, "Yes mam I will get right on that report and Sullivan, It's good to see you also. And don't forget we have a dinner date at some point in time." "Dinner would be nice Derrick, when the Champlain is back in full working order." said Sullivan and returned to her duty's. LaQua turned and went right to work.His fingers flying across the panel like liquid flesh typing in and recalling data. LaQua was finally back in full force.He could not swing the fealing that something was going wrong with himself but he did not let that stop him from doing what he did best and that was science.He smiled to himself almost a slight evil grin as he continued the recalling of data and reading the begining of his report to Starfleet. He allowed himself a quick thought. ~LaQua you the man. Now lets just stay there so we don't fail our friends ever again..~ (Reply none) (Posted John R Merriott) --------------------------------------------------------------------- (USS Wyvern, Captains Ready Room - Sec Chief/Acting FO, Lt. Jono Janeway - 0258) =^=Com...tion's still down, S..r=^= Came the voice over the comm. link. ~Damn it, again~ He had been trying to get through to the Champlain properly for quite some time now, he intended on speaking with Bree before speaking with Moto. He wanted to know her thoughts on the situation and also there next move. However when he had tried to contact the Champlain originally he had got through to the comm. switchboard on the Champlain, which he had found rather odd. He had got an Ensign who seemed to be in the full of a comm. mess. He had tried to talk the man through getting some basics back online but now there was so much interference he wondered whether the man would ever get to it. He checked the time, ~Oh~ Someone had come to the door almost 10 minutes ago, he ignored it as he thought he was getting through to the Champlain but now, it seemed there was no chance for the next couple of minutes at least of getting through to Bree. He stood up and walked to the door. The door slid open to admit him onto the bridge. He stepped out and instantly saw Ensign Ryan infront of him, He nodded to the Ensign and said "Ensign if you'll come in." Admitting Ryan into the ready room, he looked around the bridge and noticed someone he hadnt seen before, "Sam Moto, I assume..?" He said holding out a hand for the man to shake, "If you would wait a few more minutes, I will see to you soon" He said looking around the bridge and then turning into the ready room to follow Ryan. (Reply Moto IYW) ~Why is Hawk here..? He should be with Ryan's team~ "Take a seat, Ensign" He said to Ryan as he walked past the desk and sat down behind it. (Reply Ryan IYW) "Ensign, Could you please walk me through what happened leading up to the death of a member of your squad?" Janeway said in a professional tone, he wanted Ryan to realise that he wanted to know ALL of the facts. (Reply Ryan) (Posted by Jono) --------------------------------------------------------------------- (USS Champlain, Sickbay, Nurse Livia Telstra, 0300) Livia made her rounds, checking on the patients one by one. Most were now settled and either asleep or resting. As she entered the IC unit she noted the readings on the biobed on her PADD and then took another look at them. She hadn't been mistaken, they *had* changed, and for the better. She smiled to herself and laid her hand gently on Ensign Rhinehart's forehead. She knew the readings would be correct but sometimes it was good to have the reassurance that only physical touch could give her. As she did so, he stirred and his eyelids fluttered as if trying to open. Livia touched the call button to summon a doctor and said gently, "Ensign Rhinehart? Olen? Are you awake?" (Reply Rhinehart, Any) (Posted by Liz) --------------------------------------------------------------------- (USS Champlain – Sickbay – COUNS – Ensign (SG) Olen Rhinehart – 0303) And when the darkness finally parted, it gave way to the livid red-brown light of the ceiling of his closed eyes and a dull aching thrum that felt like it clutched his cerebellum, squeezing it rhythmically. Yet the pain stayed remote, felt but somehow unacknowledged. Sedation made him a contented drifter. Mentally, he grasped forward, for what felt like the thousandth time, feeling for a sense of what he knew, as if his software was running its self-check. Except something was wrong. Files out of place. Checksum invalid. Empty space where it felt there should be... something. A presence at his side then, he heard it, smelled it, a clean and bright scent of soap and disinfectant. A bubble of memory rose, seemed about to burst on his mind's eye. But it just rose and rose until it was out of sight. ~Another dream?~ he wondered. Though he did not recall them, he knew there had been others; felt their profound echoes lingering in places he could not consciously look, like spiders glimpsed only in peripheral vision, details hidden in shadow, scurrying away from plain view. A cool, dry hand touched his forehead. Not another dream this time. Somehow, he knew this was different. He felt something. A connection. The pull of his eyelids as he tried to crack them open turned the warm red-brown light to a livid crimson glare, and forking pains stabbed across his skull. "Ensign Rhinehart? Olen? Are you awake?" The gentle voice spoke. “Hrm.” he replied. He paused for a moment's thought. “Hmmmm,” he added. (Reply Telstra, any) Gingerly he forced his eyes open and tried to draw focus on the face that hovered over his. His eyes crossed painfully in the attempt and he spent a dizzy moment screwing up his eyes and opening them again. He hadn't the presence of mind to feel foolish. The hand on his forehead was reasssuring in his disorientation. He looked again at the face, tried to focus. It wasn't going to happen, he realised, so he resigned himself to speaking to a blur. “Wha... what... happened?” he said. (Reply Telstra, any) (Posted by Noel) --------------------------------------------------------------------- (USS Champlain – Sickbay – COUNS – Nurse Livia Telstra – 0305) “Hrm.” Olen murmured. “Hmmmm,” he added after a moment. "Can you open your eyes?" Livia asked. Slowly his eyes opened and he screwed them shut then blinked them open again. He looked up at Livia and said, “Wha... what... happened?” Livia smiled. "You were injured," she said. "I'll tell Dr Henna-star you've come round." She supposed the doctor must be held up, so she tapped her commbadge. "Dr Henna-star, this is Nurse Telstra. Ensign Rhinehart has come round," (reply Henna-star, Rhinehart, any) (Posted by Liz) --------------------------------------------------------------------- (USS Champlain – Sickbay – COUNS – Ensign (SG) Olen Rhinehart – 0306) He felt his vision shift out of focus again – or at least what he was, for the moment, passing off as focus. He felt the woman's smile, rather than seeing it. "You were injured," she said, answering his question. "I'll tell Dr Henna-star you've come round." He wondered vaguely if that was supposed to mean something to him. He blinked again, turning his head trying to get the measure of his surroundings. Nothing looked familiar. If only he could get focus! There were pieces of blocky equipment everywhere, people seemed to be hurrying to and fro and there was a strange, chemical odour on the air that he was at a loss to identify. He turned back to his benefactor, and saw her reaching for another blur, this one glittering, pinned to her chest. It chirped, a sound that stirred the murky swamp of his mind, releasing yet more bubbles of memory, each floating past him without shedding their clues. Something about it was familiar... but why? "Dr Henna-star,” she said. “This is Nurse Telstra. Ensign Rhinehart has come round," Another flash of familiarity. ~Rhinehart,~ he thought. ~Rhine-hart.~ The word – he supposed it belonged to him – sounded odd. And En-zun? What did that mean? Was it another name? And that was when it hit him. Sudden panic flooded him, jerking him to alertness. The biofeedback monitors leapt from indolence to frantic activity as they suddenly began sketching lurid digital diagrams of his fear. With eyes darting around him, glancing from this unfamiliar object to that, he took a hold of his mind and shook it like a child mugging his piggy bank. There was nothing. He wanted desperately to take these strange, unfamiliar words, and link them to something, anything at all, right or wrong, just so he knew what they might mean. And so he shook his mind. But nothing came out. This was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. Rhinehart took a deep breath, somehow knowing that he needed to keep a grip of himself. Panic would help nothing, he realised, would in fact hinder the return of his memory. Later, he would wonder where that assurance, like a small unheard voice in his head, had come from. But for now, there was only one question. “Nurse... Telstra?” he said, with a calmness he honestly did not feel. “W-where am I?” (Reply Telstra) “I... I don't... know... I don't understand... what you're talking about,” he said, shaking his head. And then reason fled him altogether and the calmness was gone. A hand snaked out and clutched Telstra's arm in desperation. Pleadingly, eyes wide, he asked: ”Who am I? Please, tell me who I am!” (Reply Telstra) (Posted by Noel) --------------------------------------------------------------------- (USS Champlain – Sickbay – COUNS – Nurse Livia Telstra – 0308) The monitors indicated a leap in brain function and stress levels, but Ensign Rhinehart's voice was calm when he finally spoke. “Nurse... Telstra?” he said, with a calmness he honestly did not feel. “W-where am I?” "You're in Sickbay," Livia replied calmly. "On the Champlain," she added. It wasn't uncommon for patients to be confused when they came round, but even so she really hoped the ACMO would get here soon. “I... I don't... know... I don't understand... what you're talking about,” Rhinehart said, shaking his head. Suddenly one of his hands shot out and clutched her arm desperately. ”Who am I? Please, tell me who I am!” he pleaded. "You're Ensign Olen Rhinehart, and you're a Counsellor on the USS Champlain," Livia responded gently. "You were badly injured when the ship was attacked, in fact for a while there it was touch and go. But you're on the mend now," she added reassuringly. "And I can tell you there's a few people will be very glad to hear that." ~And where is the doctor? It's about time she got here!~ (Reply Rhinehart, Henna-star) (Posted by Liz) --------------------------------------------------------------------- End Compile ---------------------------------------------------------------------