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Topic: Star Trek: Operation:Persephone - Q&A
Subject: My apologies.
I guess we should have outlined how the survivors were being serviced in more detail, and since Lt. Kennedy would have been primarily responsible for the operation, I'll have to elaborate. Department heads can add their two bits, but please keep in mind that though Kelsey doesn't like it, he was planning on remaining at least diplomatic where the Romulans are concerned, and treating the SF personnel like the victims of a disaster...oh, wait! That's what they are!
So, the shuttle bay is pretty much a trapezoid with the wide end containing the shuttle bay doors, and a single door in the narrow end providing access to the ship's interior. Bunks will be set up lining the walls, up to two deep if necessary, and there will be tables and chairs set up in the middle of the room. Security personnel will be on hand outside the doors (two: one on either side of the door). Though, in this case, the four from the Cerberus will have been replaced by four from the Charon so that the Cerberus' crew can get some much needed rest. The one department that Gavison has not skimped on as far as personnel are concerned would be the medical department, so there are blue shirt crewmen moving about taking care of the recovery effort and acting as psychiatric caregivers. Red shirt Ops personnel are also hovering around the survivors making sure they've what they need.
Near the door will be a processing desk ran by a staff of three Ops personnel, for quicker processing. One medical ensign will be present to perform full bioscans, and two security crewmen will be standing by on either side of the desk. The primary function of this station is to register all survivors, verify Starfleet records, and determine the health of the survivor. Once they've determined the condition and identity of the survivor, and should the survivor be an officer, they'll group the individual with others who've been processed and an Ops ensign will show the officers to their temporary quarters. Should they not be officers, they'll be processed and allowed to return to their bunks.
The Romulans will have their own sequestered set of bunks in one of the far corners of the room. There will be four Charon security personnel stationed about the Romulan's bunks, and a level three force field will be in place around the Romulan's section as well. As Kennedy will have no doubt informed the Romulan in charge in the Centurion's absence, "A Starfleet vessel has been destroyed while Romulans were on board. I know that I don't need to elaborate upon the past between our two governments. There will no doubt be those among the surviving crew who will place the blame squarely on your shoulders. Captain Gavison is concerned with any further harm coming to your delegation, and so long as there's a chance that you may be harmed by any misplaced anger, he is insisting on you accepting his protective measures. If there is anything you need, feel free to contact me."
The Centurion will have been escorted from sick bay directly to this "protective" section of the shuttle bay as soon as she is through being tended by Lt. Hash. Unlike the Cerberus' security detail, the Charon's will be under strict orders from Talon not to engage in conversation with the Romulans; they are to remain completely engrossed in their duties. Should the Romulans need something that they don't have, Lt. Kennedy is their only liaison with any of the crew aboard the Charon, unless, of course, Mac chooses to give his crew different orders.
I'm glad you chose to stick around, YeOlde!
Posted on 2008-07-25 at 00:53:29.
Edited on 2008-07-25 at 00:53:59 by Bromern Sal
Topic: Star Trek: Operation:Persephone - Q&A
Subject: By the by
I've posted the first of a couple of posts, but my next is dependent on whether you decide to stick with us, YeOlde.
Duncan, I'm glad you're enjoying your job. Nothing quite like working those long hours and still getting satisfaction out of it. We are, of course, looking forward to your posts as you find the time.
Posted on 2008-07-24 at 05:49:51.
Topic: Star Trek: Operation Persephone
Subject: So nice not to have to post for multiple ships...
USS Charon – Mess Hall – 13:32 hours
Starship captains were constantly burdened. What made the individual captain material was their ability to shoulder each and every one of those burdens in such a manner as to make it look easy, as to diminish the appearance of the number of visible burdens to their subordinates, and to stand tall under the strain of it all. At least, that’s what Kelsey Gavison had originally thought when he went through the officer courses in Starfleet Academy. Since then, facilitated by his various roles aboard starships, serving under varying styles of leadership, Kel had determined that his initial assessment was only a small portion of the overall picture. A Starfleet captain had to not only where his stress well, but had to accommodate the needs of his many charges, learn to interact on the level needed by his officers so as to facilitate their success, and become a mentor for his officers so that they’d not only learn to act as he needed them to, but so that they could excel.
As he watched the events unfold in the mess hall anger boiled up inside him. Only, this anger wasn’t necessarily all directed at Talon—though the Lyran was certainly the catalyst of at least a small portion of it—but rather, it was directed at himself. Oh, Kel was more than ready to put his nose to Talon’s and dress the Chief down for his obvious insubordination concerning Jonathan’s directives (and his own), but he blamed himself for the obvious departure from Starfleet regulation just as much as he blamed Talon for falling back on instinct instead of using his head.
There were few still aboard the Charon who had endured as many missions following Kelsey Gavison’s less than orthodox methods of carrying out orders: Fletcher, Talon, Jones, and Kennedy were the only officers who could make such a boast. Each had internalized Gavison’s methods in their own way, something Kel was more than aware of, though he’d never said as much to anyone, never documented it in any report, log, or journal, and had never before made excuses for the way he behaved to any of them. Now, in the confines of a memorial mess hall, his mixed signals were evident under the extreme duress of the situation.
Commander Fletcher’s eyes met his, and Kel knew he was seeking permission to handle the Lyran, to reinforce his rank, something that Captain Gavison knew only too well was sometimes necessary with Talon’s people. Hell! Had they been on a Lyran vessel, Talon’s insubordination would likely have led to an immediate dual resulting in either Fletcher’s, or Talon’s, death before being resolved. As Kel met his XO’s gaze, he knew there was nothing for it: Talon had to be reminded of his place within the hierarchy, and it had to be done quickly. There were two such creatures on board his ship at the moment that would view a delayed response as a sign of weakness. Decidedly, Kel presented Jonathan with a slight nod of his head, his face flushing further with anger at the necessity of the maneuver.
"Fletcher to security,” Jonathan tapped his badge. “Send a team to the officer's mess immediately."
Gavison kept his hands at his side, fists clenched, wondering if he’d remembered to turn his phaser settings to stun, or not just in case Talon really took offense. Kel didn’t know to what extent Jonathan would take the reprimand, but he knew, according to Starfleet Regulation, what was possible, and though he’d had to reprimand Talon many times before for his impulsive behavior, he’d never once had to do so for insubordination. This was new ground, and that meant that the Lyran officer could go any which way, but that which was expected.
"Mister Talon, you are a disgrace to the uniform. Bad enough that you stand here growling at another Starfleet vessel's second officer like some sort of base animal..." Fletcher’s tone was harsh.
“Actually, mester Rrowl's me actin' XO," Captain MacTavish interjected in a dry tone that told Gavison he wasn’t happy without the captain even having to look at his old friend.
"...make that another Starfleet vessel's executive officer," Fletcher ammended. "You disregard a direct order given to you not even an hour ago, and you treat your fellow officer with disrespect when he attempts to ensure that my order is carried out!
"Lieutenant Commander Talon, on the grounds of insubordination and disobeying a direct order, I hereby relieve you of your post as chief tactical officer of the USS Charon. Surrender your weapon and commbadge at once."
It wasn’t a struggle for Kelsey to remain the visage of disappointed rage, for he was surely feeling every bit of that very emotional cocktail as Talon stood there in shock, his golden eyes darting from Commander Fletcher to meet with Kel’s unwavering gaze. Kelsey had been in enough heated situation to have learned how to keep a clear head despite the emotional fire that burned within, and at that moment he resolved to pay a private visit to the Lyran to find out what was going through his head. The punishment Jonathan was doling out had to be enforced, but the duration was dependant on the validity of Talon’s vindication according to the judge in the matter, and that judge was Captain Gavison. Kel knew that there were things underfoot that he wasn’t aware of, details that needed to be painted out, but he trusted his XO’s judgment, and knew the spirit of the orders he’d given earlier, so while he would have liked the opportunity to question Talon’s reasoning, this was neither the time, nor the place.
Apparently realizing that his captain backed the XO’s move, Talon’s combative demeanor flattened as though the very wind was taken from his sails. With a submissive gesture, the Lyran security officer removed said items and offered them to the steadfast executive officer.
“Yes Sir!” and Talon took a step back, again, in what Kelsey interpreted to be a sign of stepping down.
Fletcher sighed. "We are at war, mister Talon. There is no room for such blatant disregard for the chain of command on this vessel. The security team will escort you to your quarters, where you will remain confined until otherwise ordered. If you slip so much as a whisker out of that cabin, mister Talon, you will be relocated to the brig for as long as is deemed necessary. Do you understand?"
Kelsey watched in silence as the creature who’d fought at his side through so many life and death situations recently was escorted from the room, leaving the mess hall in a moment of awkward silence the likes of which can only be found on the tail feathers of surprise confrontation between allies.
“I’ll want to know every damn detail concerning this matter, Jonathan,” Kel said in a low tone, his eyes darting momentarily to Kato III’s as he reflexively tried to glean some moment of clarity from the science officer. “A report on my desk by eighteen hundred hours should be sufficient.” What had been said between the MACO sergeant and Talon had been unheard by Captain Gavison as he’d been greeting Mac and his officers. But, again, there was a time and a place for this inquiry to take place, and this was neither.
“I apologize for the theatrics,” Kel said in a voice as tight as the scarred skin that covered the left side of his face. “Emotions have been running high, and there’s been little sleep over the past few days as we’ve been preparing the Charon for our mission, and then rushing to pick the lot of you up.”
Captain Gavison motioned for the table, upon which were fluted glasses and bottles of Teluvian Brandy, scotch, water, and rummilk. Kennedy had also arranged for a series of fruits to be available, though he hadn’t gone overboard, much to Kel’s appreciation.
“There’s a lot to discuss,” Kelsey said as he took a seat at the head of the table. “So, we’ll get the formalities out of the way forthwith.” The captain proceeded to introduce each of those officers who’d arrived with him, Lt. Kennedy having already made his introduction to Mac’s team when they’d beamed aboard. Once Jack had endured the same formality, Kel settled back in his chair, his brows coming together causing his haggard visage to take on a very foreboding look.
“What happened, Mac? Was it the Romulans like so many of us already believe? Mr. Kato and Chief Talon have been working hard to put the Charon’s equipment to use in order to help with the investigation, but I’ve already received missives from Headquarters wondering after our findings, and at the risk of sounding treasonous, what I want to report back to Starfleet is that the bastards that did this are cold, and dead.” Kelsey’s tone was wicked enough to send shivers up and down Lt. Kennedy’s spine. “There’ll be no tribunal, no Starfleet justice, here, Mac. This is Frontier Justice that we’re going to enact—“ The captain eyed each of those at the table in turn. “—and I defy anyone at this table to argue that particular with me.”
Posted on 2008-07-24 at 05:45:06.
Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off
Subject: I thought Char had healed himself already. Correct me if I'm wrong...
As the last arrow struck home, Char furthered the creature's demise by shooting daggers from his eyes at its falling corpse. Only when Adrian fell as well did Char instinctively start forward, Arien's warning to stay close by echoing in his ears. There was sound logic in that warning, but Char wasn't used to leaving comrades-in-arms alone to face dangers when he had the where-with-all to do something about it.
Knocking another arrow, the ranger padded along in a jog beside the dwarven war-priest, his eyes surveying the land about for signs of any trouble, his ears seemingly reaching out and snatching every sound. He remained ever alert as he stood over his friend in his administering to the ex-Imperial, particularly eyeballing the fallen thri-kreen and dragonfly mount. Only upon witnessing the fluttering eyelids of the recovering wizard did Char cautiously approach the dead enemy, searching them over for any indication of where they came from, and what their alliances were.
Spitting on the corpse of the thri-kreen, Char completed his search and returned to Kilgrim and Adrian's side, and in due order, Arien, Alloryn, and Dapple where he placed the arrow back in the quiver, slung his bow, and separated himself from the sibling's reunion by searching the ground where the green-armed man had fallen for any sign of tracks.
(OOC: should there be time, he'll also help search through the rubble, the surrounding area for additional tracks, indications of what the story was there, and anything of import to place back in the king's hands at Freegate. As far as Jal's funeral preparations/resolution, Char will remain aloof. He won't disrespect the man's sacrifice, but he wasn't exactly fond of him, and will leave the body's fate to Arien's discretion.)
Posted on 2008-07-24 at 04:43:51.
I was missing the sheer brilliance of Grugg...
Posted on 2008-07-24 at 04:33:17.
Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: Another late night...
OK, so I find myself enduring another late night that won't allow me to post a continuance to this game. I apologize, but assure you that the post will happen no later than this weekend.
Posted on 2008-07-24 at 04:30:59.
Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: LOL at the Double Sedation
I'm just hoping we can get the mule back to the ship and hidden away at the same time as getting our people out of sight before the Alliance arrive.
Posted on 2008-07-24 at 04:29:21.
Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off Q&A
Subject: If it makes you feel any better...
I've only ever had one wizard character survive, Robert. His name was Bromern Sal, and I didn't "go wizard" with that character until I had already established his prowess as an assassin and a fighter class in order keep his sorry butt out of a sling!
Low level wizards are not an easy class to play. Of course, there's the other end of the spectrum as high level wizards are friggin' ridiculous!
*Goes off to fume some more about Systems.*
Posted on 2008-07-24 at 04:28:05.
Topic: Star Trek: Operation:Persephone - Q&A
YeOlde: Hey man, we don't want you to quit playing. I'll second Olan's sentiment in that you're a player I'll allow in any of my games. I, too, urge you to reconsider. The idea that this could result in an epiphany for Talon is great, or you could use the opportunity in another fashion, but it would be a loss for everyone playing if you walked away.
Everyone: So we had a few "off" posts. It isn't anything that can't be fixed, nothing that was causing serious problems we couldn't work out of, and so there's no need for anyone to feel like they were ruining the game. This sort of thing happens to everyone at one point or another, and the best thing for it is to just continue to have fun, redirect a few things, and BOOM! Everything falls into place.
In my opinion, free form role-play is extremely difficult. The GM tries not to give so much direction so as to limit your character development and storytelling (your total contribution), but at the same time we've got to have a plot or else the whole thing just falls apart. We're all going to find challenges within the role-playing aspect of this game, but that's part of the fun of it. Rest assured that Eol and I will share pertinent information with those who need to know that information to help shape the story. Some things we obviously cannot share because they are major plot points that we want you to find out to enrich your experience. This means that we're faced with the challenge of making sure that ingenious actions on the part of your individual story development don't derail the main storyline.
Think of it this way: The overall game "Operation: Persephone" is a few "seasons" worth of a television series. within those seasons there are progressing story lines for each major contributing character. Some of these stories can be resolved, or come to fruition, in a single "episode" while others will take many "episodes" to develop. We're still in the first season of this series: characters are being introduced, fleshed out, and established. Relationships are being built that will carry through future seasons and develop, or digress, as the writers see fit. Multiple plots will unfold, but overall there is that one, on-going theme of "Operation: Persephone" just like in Voyager they had a lot of adventures (episodes), some drawn out over the course of many shows (seasons), but overall, their theme was that they were trying to get back to Earth.
Each and every one of you contribute to the overall enjoyment of the game, and the challenge of character relationships is part of the fun. We just can't let everyone run free, or the theme is lost.
Anyway, you've heard it from Eol, Olan, and now me so I'll shut up about it...
I lied: One last reiteration. We really did not mean to hurt anyone's feelings, cause anyone to feel like they were ruining the game for others, or drive anyone away. We are thoroughly enjoying the players involved in this game, and I know I speak for all three of us (Eol, Olan, and myself) when I say that the loss of any player is not something we want to facilitate right now.
Posted on 2008-07-24 at 04:20:30.
Topic: Voyages of Rocinante - Serenity/Firefly RPG
Subject: A sheriff? Uh-uh! Them folk die...a lot!
The sounds of the crowd gathering around filled Wyatt’s ears, and his senses, as had the sounds of the ship breaking atmo.
“Damn it! I knew it!” JW drew the captain’s attention back to him from the sky where Sung used his torn up hat to block the sun enough that he could make out the pinpoint ship descending upon the scene. “They probably detected the explosion. Captain, I would rather that them boys had no reasons to be asking you questions, or even attaching your ship to the scene of the crime, if you catch my drift.”
“You an’ me,” Wyatt tossed his hat into the mule. “We’re singin’ the same song. Wolf, can you get that mule goin’ again? Will the brakes work, or is it a useless effort?”
“Doctor!” Willow’s cry turned Wyatt on his boot heel. “Come quick!”
“Gorram excitement,” the captain muttered under his breath as he followed the doctor into the bank.
He’d registered the interaction between the doctor and the banker’s wife, but had stored it away for scrutiny another time as there were more immediate concerns to be had. He’d even stored away the intense feeling of impending…well, just impending, that Ludlow’s single uttered dyin’ word brought to his innards accompanyin’ the chill such statements from the crowd as, “…We got a sheriff?” and, “It’s good to have a sheriff” had already bestowed upon him. Blinking into the shadowed, rubble-filled interior, Wyatt frowned at the still chaos that presented itself before him. The banker now lay crumpled in the middle of the floor as well.
“What needs doin’, Willow?” Wyatt demanded. “We got Nien Mohn breathin’ down our backsides, an’ I don’ much feel like Gen Ho Tze Bi Dio se, if’n you catch my meanin’.”
Posted on 2008-07-23 at 05:26:59.
Topic: A Cold Day in Hell
Subject: Paddles anyone? Anyone?
It had been a tense and trying journey from the comm. center to the hallway outside of the observatory. Lt. Kernan had led the way, his M6 leveled in standard offensive positioning as he scoured the open corridors, and braced at the corners. He led them through the epicenter of the facility at a quick pace, hardly pausing at the rounds before hot-steppin’ to the next position. The whole maneuver was done while considering the possibilities.
There were no ifs, ands, or buts about it at this point. Monty had to believe that they were caught up in some science-fiction the likes of which standard Ranger training didn’t cover. As the soft patting sounds of their footfalls fluffed the air he set his jaw in grim determination: two of his team were missing, the whole of the facility personnel appeared to be missing, everyone on his team was either near frost-bitten, or wounded in some fashion (including himself), and some were critically injured. It was truly a distressing situation to be in, and it was only his training as a Ranger that kept him from throwing his hands in the air in despair. He was a U.S. Army Ranger, and he’d be damned if he was going to leave his men behind.
He’d said very little when arriving on the scene where Sgt. Kane was standing over the stabilized men’s positions, Corporal Inga Joannsen sitting near them just as badly beat up. It was a mess, but they hadn’t the time to discuss it. Quickly formulating the best strategy for a tactical retreat from the observatory hall, the team did the best they could to reduce the amount of time they spent in the open, less defensible location, eventually bursting through the comm. room door and moving the wounded to secure positions out of the way of any intruding enemy’s immediate line of sight. Once those three were secured, Monty ordered Kane to close up and secure the door that they’d just come through.
“Blake,” Monty caught the attache’s attention once more. “I need your assessment. We’re in a tight situation here, and it don’t look to be getting any better any time soon. With three wounded as they are, and another two MIA, we have a desperate need to get in touch with headquarters, but the lot of us nearly got turned into snowmen even in full gear just hikin’ into this hell hole. What’re the odds of getting our sat-radio outside of that blue field and getting off a message to HQ for reinforcements? Hell! What’re our odds of anyone stepping outside of that blue field and returnin’ to this same situation?” Another sick thought occurred to him at that moment, and he couldn’t help but ask after it with a lowered, dread-filled tone, “If that…cave just swallowed the observatory, can you speculate on whether what happened there will happen elsewhere in the facility? Can you speculate with any accuracy on what happened to Hatherford, Hart, and those two G.I.s?”
Science wasn’t Kernan’s strong suite, and he had no idea what stepping outside of that field would do—he couldn’t even fathom what kind of ramifications it might incur. For all he knew they were stuck in some Time-Space Continuum, or something like that; maybe a dimensional rift—he’d heard some sci-fi geeks jabbering away about some such nonsense while bivouacked with a regiment in northern African a few summers back. At the time, he’d laughed and poked fun, and now he wished like Hell he’d asked them some questions that would have provided the answers to this mess they were in!
(OOC: will back-post in response to Charlie’s answers. Depending on the answer Monty is likely to request that Blake get back to her computer hacking.)
Turning to look at Joannsen, Monty took a deep breath, quietly taking in the paleness of the already pale woman’s skin, the sunken appearance of her eyes, and the pastel wash of her lips. Their medic had been hit hard, and while a soldier’s condition when injured was always of a concern, when a unit lost their medic they were up Sh*t Creek without a paddle.
“What do you need, Doc?” Monty asked in a quieter voice. “I need the three of you functional as soon as possible, so tell me what I can do, and we’ll get it done.” He didn’t know if there was anything to do except get an evac, but he had to try something, and she was the best suited to answer. He had some major decisions to make in the next little while, and he wished to God that they had some way to communicate with HQ in order to get some reinforcements in, and his team out, but it wasn’t looking like that was going to be an option.
Posted on 2008-07-23 at 05:06:56.
Topic: Star Trek: Operation:Persephone - Q&A
Subject: The Brigs
The brigs on this size ship aren't very comfortable...Poor Talon, just trying to do his job. Too bad Gavison has never been able to stomach direct insubordination.
It looks like Rrowl might be acting security lead in a bit. Oh, won't that get Talon's goat! Hee hee.
Posted on 2008-07-23 at 03:58:12.
Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off Q&A
Subject: Party members?!
Of course I'm up for part three. Roberts coming back? Awesome!
Posted on 2008-07-23 at 03:28:45.
Topic: The Brom be out, yo!
Subject: I'm Ba-ack.
Conference went well. Met some awesome people, and they helped us take my son to Six Flags and the Statue of Liberty! Something I don't know that we'd have been able to do otherwise.
Give me a bit to get back into the swing of things, and I'll be posting to all my games shortly.
Posted on 2008-07-22 at 14:15:18.
Topic: The Brom be out, yo!
Subject: The Brom be out, yo!
OK, so I'm out for about five to six days. I may be able to check in here and there, but I doubt I'll be able to do any serious posting during this absence as all of my reference material will be here at home, and I will not be.
In any case, heads up, for there is no wrath like that of Jersey! Or is that smell (no offense if anyone is from New Jersey, but I've been before, and I gotta say... whew wee!)
Posted on 2008-07-17 at 06:11:04.
Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: Holidays are a necessary evil...um, good?
No problem. Well, Raven actually left me a PM that describes some actions for Guardian, but I didn't get to the post like I'd hoped to tonight, so it will have to wait until I get back from Jersey. Sorry Choombas, but it is late and I'm going to sleep.
Posted on 2008-07-17 at 06:07:35.
Topic: Star Trek: Operation:Persephone - Q&A
OK, so Kennedy didn't get his own post, but I did manage Hash and Gavison. Now all y'all have some time frames to work with. I look forward to seeing the results.
Posted on 2008-07-17 at 06:05:52.
Topic: A Cold Day in Hell Q&A
I wasn't able to get as much posting done tonight as I'd hoped due to packing issues. However, the good news is that this game is one I can likely post to while I'm out and about this weekend, provided I can maintain the information I need in my itty-bitty brain. In any case, I'll do what I can to at least not hold things up.
Posted on 2008-07-17 at 06:04:32.
Topic: Star Trek: Operation Persephone
Subject: It ain't over 'til the fat lady sings, and we're fresh outta fat ladies...
The Charon – Captain’s Ready Room – 07:00 hours
Kelsey Gavison had been up for two hours by the time the ready room’s computer chirped indicating he had a visitor. He'd long since done away with a yeoman—no sense putting someone’s life at risk just for a little luxury; besides which, he never really felt like he deserved to be waited on. So, without a yeoman, it had to be something to do with the Cerberus. At least, one could always hope.
“Who is it?” Kel’s voice was weary due to a lack of sleep since he’d received this assignment.
“Gunnery Sergeant Rhiannon MacQueen, reporting in for MACO Team Beta.”
He’d heard that the MACOs had made it on board just before they’d departed from DS9, but hadn’t seen any sign of them, and had been so busy with the details of tracking down Mac’s ship that he’d completely forgotten their presence on board his own.
“Enter,” he commanded, unintentionally allowing a little of his disappointment at the lack of news on the Cerberus to seep into his gravel-filled voice.
The captain barely took notice of the statuesque sergeant as she swept into the room—his eyes had returned to the computer readout displaying the scans from Science and TAC over the third shift. He could tell that she’d saluted my the blur of motion on his peripheral, and when she’d finished he settled back in his chair and looked at her through brooding, deep set eyes.
“My orders, Sir.” MacQueen stepped forward and placed a PADD on the table in front of him, sliding it to within easy reach.
Kelsey remained still for a moment while he considered her. In his estimation she looked on edge—not nervous, but…coiled; as though ready for immediate action. As a matter-of-fact, Gavison wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d learned that she’d been ready to spring since birth, and at the same time, he knew that her countenance was more of a newly acquired flavor.
“I know what your orders are, Gunnie,” he said in a low voice. “Is there something else I can help you with?”
“Sir, might I inquire,” MacQueen started right in; there was no bashfulness in this woman. “What is known of the Cerberus’ disappearance? My twin sister is the NCO of the MACOs on board the Cerberus.”
“Right now, Gunnie,” Kelsey said in an even tone, watching the mettle of her face with a scrutinizing gaze. “We know absolutely nothing. The Cerberus disappeared from all Starfleet sensors…” He would have continued, but the picturesque MACO was staring out the window to the left, a faraway look in her eye. Kelsey gave her but a few seconds to daydream about what he knew from experience was the worst of nightmares before clearing his throat and rising. “Unless there’s more to your inquiry, Gunnie, I’ve a full day ahead of me. You’re welcome to join us on the bridge once we reach the Cerberus’ last known coordinates.”
The Charon – Captain’s Ready Room – 13:19 hours
/--\ Bridge to Captain Gavison. /--\
Kelsey blinked away the glazed memories of loss and swallowed the hatred that soured his pallet as the commlink chirped.
/--\ The Cerberus survivors are all aboard. The few wounded have been transported directly to sickbay where Doctor Hamilton is looking in on them, and the surviving senior officers have been shown their quarters. /--\
Kel rose from his seat and made his way towards the door. “Acknowledged,” he muttered in response to Kennedy’s report. “I want that meeting with Mac and his officers right away, Mr. Kennedy. Clear the mess hall, and make sure that there’s something on the table for them to refresh themselves with.”
The door slid open revealing the bridge. Lt. Kennedy wasn’t present, having been sent about his duties by Commander Fletcher, but Jonathan was there. Kel strode purposefully across the room to the turbo lift as he finished up his orders and received confirmation from the Ops head.
“Mr. Fletcher, Talon, Mr. Kato, and Jones, you’re with me. Mr. Mas’Riat, you’ve the bridge,” Kelsey would have preferred to have left someone with more experience in charge, but he needed these with him to hear Jack’s report. The more minds at work to determine what had occurred, the more likely they were to come out of this mess on top.
Ten minutes later, Captain Gavison entered the mess hall, his senior staff following in his wake. On most starships, the crew was allowed to decorate the mess hall as they saw fit: the Charon’s was a memorial to those lost in battle. The names of those known by the crew who’d fallen to the Dominion-Cardassian alliance were glued to the surfaces of the walls on replicated brass plates. It hadn’t been Kelsey who’d directed them to do so, but he wholly approved of the décor. He distinctly remembered the ensign who’d placed the first plaque in memory of his brother who’d been killed during the Battle of Kador III. Others had quickly followed, but it wasn’t until Kelsey had placed the plaque of that very ensign who'd started it all had it become tradition on board the Charon. This was a crew that would always remember. It strengthened their resolve, tempered their mettle, and gave them something to chew on as the pain of the war continued to develop.
Amongst this morose memorial sat Jack MacTavish and his officers, one of which Kelsey recognized.
“Mac,” Gavison stopped in front of his old friend and embraced him, immediately dissolving all formalities in the room as they ended the welcome with a warrior’s clasp and grim smiles. Nodding to the large security officer, Kel offered him a serious expression, careful not to show his teeth. It had been a long time since he’d seen Rrowl.
“There’s a lot to discuss,” Kelsey said as he motioned for everyone to be seated. “So, we’ll get the formalities out of the way forthwith.” The captain proceeded to introduce each of those officers who’d arrived with him, Lt. Kennedy having already made his introduction to Mac’s team when they’d beamed aboard. Once Jack had endured the same formality, Kel settled back in his chair, his brows coming together causing his haggard visage to become very foreboding.
“What happened, Mac? Was it the Romulans like so many of us already believe? Mr. Kato and Talon have been working hard to put the Charon’s equipment to use in order to help with the investigation, but I’ve already received missives from Headquarters wondering after our findings, and at the risk of sounding treasonous, what I want to report back to Starfleet is that the bastards that did this are cold, and dead.” Kelsey’s tone was wicked enough to send shivers up and down Lt. Kennedy’s spine. “There’ll be no tribunal, no Starfleet justice, here, Mac. This is Frontier Justice that we’re going to enact—“ The captain eyed each of those at the table in turn. “—and I defy anyone at this table to argue that particular with me.”
The Charon – Sickbay – 12:51 hours
Lt. Jon Hash leaned against the wall, his arms folded across his chest, a bitter scowl on his face. Had he been able to save any of his cigars, he might have been chewing on one right then. It was something he did when bothered and contemplating that which was bothering him. He never lit up, that was far too obnoxious a thing to do on a starship, but he chewed them nonetheless.
He was watching the Charon’s medical crew at work, eyeing the semi-conscious Romulan that lay on one of the five beds positioned against the wall, her vitals showing over her head on the wall display. Her companions hadn’t been allowed to join her, being beamed aboard and escorted to the cargo bay with all of those survivors who weren’t being accommodated in crew quarters, much to their dismay. The Centurion hadn’t been in any condition to argue.
There’d been a few others from the Cerberus brought into sickbay as well. A couple of security personnel who’d been rattled and shaken when their ASRV had been caught in the blast shockwave, an engineer who’d looked like he’d taken the loss of his crewmates rather poorly, and a science officer who was recovering from dehydration. But Jon wasn’t interested in any of them; it was the Centurion that held his attention, that had his brow furrowed, his jaw clenching and unclenching, and his blood boiling.
He had to remain impartial, capable of administering aid when aid was needed, but right then he was debating providing the woman with a stimulant so he could shake a confession out of her. Something deep inside told him how ridiculous such a desire was, and it was that small voice of reason that kept him against the wall.
“All vitals are stable,” one of the medical technicians stated matter-of-factly as he compared the vitals to the library records on the PADD he held in his hands.
“She isn’t dying, you moron,” Jon pushed away from the wall and strolled across the floor in a wide circle, as though getting too close to the woman would break his resolve to remain impartial. “She was knocked over by a clumsy oaf of a security detail. Check the condition of the muscles in her back, if you can find it without looking at that damned book, that is. It’s my understanding that she hurt her back due to that imbecile’s pigeon-toed dance.”
The technician stared at Hash with raised eyebrows as though he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. Blowing air between his clenched teeth, Jon walked purposefully towards the man, every bit the picture of disgust.
“You are, apparently, either hard of hearing, or the mere presence of my genius has left you in an unprecedented stupor,” Grabbing the man by his elbow, Jon directed him towards the examination table. “Get your playmate over there, and the two of you move this Romulan centurion to the table so we can do a full body scan. A f-u-l-l b-o-d-y s-c-a-n, you know?” Jon articulated the last sentence especially carefully and slowly so as not to confuse the tech.
“Excuse me?” The man’s expression had sweetened to one of ripe dismay. He glanced about, perhaps looking for a sign of his commanding officer, Chief Hamilton, but seeing how the Chief was off with that sick engineer in the dental area (he’d been concerned about contaminating other patients with whatever illness the man had contracted), the technician found himself alone with the unorthodox lieutenant and two other crewmen.
“For the love of all of the Klingon gods,” Jon barked. “Just get that damned woman on the table!”
The response time still wasn’t what Hash had hoped it would be, but had Centurion Sienae woken entirely from her hazy dream at that moment, she would have found herself being moved to the table in the center of the room. Once there, Jon initiated the full body scan. He didn’t know what he was looking for specifically—part of him wanted to find some portion of a swallowed explosive detonation device, part of him wanted to actually figure out how a simple accident in an escape pod could result in the woman being incapacitated, and in need of sedatives. Age-old relations bred hatred in a number of people, but pure and simple scientific curiosity could beat tradition into dust in a heartbeat.
“Well, spank me and call me Shirley,” Jon muttered as the readings came in while the device passed repeatedly up and down her body. Peering at the musculature that had been created in holographic detail hovering over her body, the doctor reached up and turned her generated body on its side with a simple flick of his wrist.
“Here,” he said, circling a cluster of nerves near the spine so that the medical technicians could see what he was talking about. “What’s that?”
“Severe nerve damage,” the first man responded quietly.
Jon paused for a moment and gave him a confused look. “Can’t understand a simple command, but he seems to be somewhat educated in medicine nonetheless. Wonders never cease.
“Yes, Jasmine, it appears to be nerve damage, and I’d agree with you in the categorization of its severity, though should you ever tell anyone what I just said, I’ll hide your uniforms so you’re forced to prance around the decks of this boat wearing your lacy pink undergarments. And trust me when I say no one wants to see that.”
Hash turned back to the holographic display and “grabbed” that section of Sienae’s back, expanding it to show more minute detail.
“Can you heal it?” The technician had apparently forgotten his most recent lambasting as he peered over Hash’s shoulder at the destroyed nerves.
“Good lord, Jasmine,” Jon cocked an eyebrow at the man. “Your breath on my ear is sending tingles up and down my spine, but the odor coming off your breath is enough to cause me to hurl. Back off, girlie! Dinner first, and then maybe, if you’re lucky, I’ll let you clean between my toes.
“Much better. Now, let’s talk repairs, shall we?” Hash turned his attention back to the Centurion’s displayed back. “With nerve transplants, and a very intrusive surgery we could gift the woman with six to ten follow up visits filled with painful growth stimulants that would likely result in her being exhausted and without an appetite, but that’s wholly contingent on being given access to state-of-the-art surgical equipment the likes of which this boat doesn’t even come close to having on board.”
“So, there’s nothing we can do?” Another of the technicians asked, her eyes wide with fear at the reprisal of her counterpart’s humiliation.
“Nothing we can do?” Jon muttered, his eyes now narrowed at the real Sienae’s pale face. “Oh, don’t give up on the patience just yet, Sister. We could always dose her up with truth serum and jam so many questions down her throat about all of those people who died on the Cerberus—“
“Doctor!?” The woman’s mouth dropped open at the suggestion.
“What?” Jon continued to stare at the Romulan, his face impassive.
“Not without Captain Gavison’s orders, certainly!”
“Not without…” Jon frowned. He wasn’t in his sickbay. “No, Centurion Khnialmnae, I’m not going to interrogate you. That particular pleasure belongs to Captains MacTavish and Gavison. I am, however, going to make damn sure you’re fully cognoscente and ready to stand before them when they call on you.
“Jasmine!” Jon glanced about until he’d found the first technician he’d tortured. “Bring me some stimulants…” Lt. Hash proceeded to give orders on how to prepare the concoction that would provide the Romulan with relief for her pain as well as that which would wake her from her dazed slumber. In time, those in the sickbay had responded well enough to provide him with a hypospray of his own special brew, and another filled with enough stimulant to pop her off the table.
“First, let’s wake her,” Jon said as he leaned over Sienae and pressed the hypospray device to her exposed throat. Settling back he watched her come to, the realization of her pain evident on her face.
“This is the part where I’m supposed to be polite and ask you how you’re feeling,” Hash sneered. “But, I already know you hurt like hell. I saw what your service to the Empire earned you, Centurion. A crap post that no one in the Romulan Empire would volunteer for, and a lifetime of crippling pain. I wish I could say I felt sorry for you—ah, who m’ kidding: I don’t really.”
Leaning forward, Jon pressed the hyposray against her neck once more, this time it was the one filled with the pain killer. As he leaned close, he whispered, “If I find out you were responsible for killing the Cerberus, the pain you feel in your back will be but a small taste of what I’ll visit upon you, Centurion Sienae I’Mhiessan Khnialmnae. This I promise you.”
The dosage shot into her system backed by the power of the device, coursing through her veins to attack her damaged back within a couple of seconds of the injection. During that time, Lt. Hash moved away from her and replaced the medical devices he’d used on the tray near the table. Turning to the two security personnel who’d sat idly by witnessing the whole thing, already having been treated for their minor injuries he growled, “Return her to her people, and keep a close eye on her. I don’t imagine that the captains are going to want my work undone anytime soon.”
Posted on 2008-07-17 at 05:38:40.
Edited on 2008-07-17 at 05:45:29 by Bromern Sal
Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: Well, now...
Since it is apparent to me that those still in the game have posted, I'll try to get my continuance post in place tommorrow night. If not? It won't be until Tuesday or later that I'll be making that post most likely.
Posted on 2008-07-16 at 05:24:19.
Topic: Star Trek: Operation:Persephone - Q&A
Subject: I'm going to try to post again...
Tomorrow night, since I'm going to be flying to New Jersey for a convention on Agenisis of the Corpus Colosum for the rest of the week, and Monday of next. Can't say that I'll have much of an opprtunity to post during that trip despite having the iPhone and its wonderful Internet access.
I'll be looking to add my bits for bringing the Cerberus survivors on board the Charon; including posts for Hash, Gavison, and maybe a little Kennedy (Im beginning to like the character). So, officers of the Charon, feel free to start bringing those Survivors on board:
A little direction even though this is freeform: protocol wouldn't allow for immediate arrests of anyone since the survivor's health--both psychologically, and physically--would be the first order for standard personnel. Except where the Romulans are concerned. Diplomacy is barely in check as far as Kel is concerned, and the most obvious threat to his ship until Mac and his senior staff are debriefed is the Romulans. Starfleet personnel will be treated medically, and the Ops staff will show those they've arranged quarters for to said quarters while crewmen and enlisted are treated to Cargo Bay 2. Injured and sick personnel will receive priority attention, being transported directly to sickbay--except for the Romulans. Where Mac had to keep diplomatic relations in mind, Kel isn't so prone as to care what with the confirmation that the Cerberus was destroyed.
Isn't it strange how Mac used to be the one Starfleet Command had to be concerned with, and now its Kel? War changes people...
Posted on 2008-07-16 at 05:18:05.
Topic: The Embodiment Q&A
Subject: Glad you like it.
Once all of the characters are created I'll really flesh out their coinciding relationships. The challenge lies in creating parts of the history that bring characters together, so don't be surprised if the future changes some elements of a character's past...if you know what I mean.
Posted on 2008-07-16 at 05:02:24.
Topic: The Embodiment
Subject: Thank you, Cap'n.
All right, so Septimus' character is posted. The QA thread has the link. Since I have the most information for Cap'n Lou's character I'll be working on it next.
Posted on 2008-07-15 at 06:06:58.
Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: After a review of where things stand...
I was hoping for a post from Raven, but nothing yet. I'll give it a couple of more days tops. I want to get at least one more post in before I leave for Jersey on Thursday, so be prepared for that.
Posted on 2008-07-14 at 04:08:05.
Topic: The Embodiment Q&A
Subject: Number one.
All right, the first character is created. Link is the Character's name in the first post.
Posted on 2008-07-14 at 02:35:43.
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