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Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject: Hello!
The blinking light is readily viewable by all.
Posted on 2017-05-15 at 10:37:46.
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: I need to find the time for that...
This game is one of my great losses... *sniff*
Posted on 2017-05-15 at 10:36:53.
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Topic: Ummm... yeah....
Subject: I second the motion.
Here, here!
Posted on 2017-05-15 at 10:34:52.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: Absolutely!
I replied, sir! I'm happy to start things off based on your email.
Posted on 2017-05-12 at 14:24:42.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: Yes!
Action!
Love the posts. Keep it up!
Posted on 2017-05-12 at 10:29:39.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: I have posted for Dio Lasad.
I hope that it helps flesh things out. All department heads who are not on the bridge can expect to be kept informed.
Posted on 2017-05-11 at 13:17:32.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty
Subject: Dio Lasad's Take
Stardate 2365.02.11 (Thursday - 42143.
USS Peregrine; Deck 1 - Main Bridge - 10:56
Captain Drake's orders ring in his ears. "Mister Lasad, Mister Sh'iraolnas—find me that frakking ship."
Immediately moving to obey, Dio's screen flashes an indicator that he cannot ignore. "Captain, the Coronado is hailing us."
Silas nodded. "Put them on-screen."
Quickly dragging the incoming communication request to the appropriate box for video feed conferencing, Lasad glances up at the large view screen before his station just as the view of the space station and adjacent ships shifts to that of the Coronado's bridge. Captain Jacobs, looking rather harried, is the focal point.
"Mister Drake," Captain Jacobs spits in his icy accent and Lasad can't help but raise his eyebrows at the omittance of rank, "what exactly are you doing? You have failed not only to secure the rendezvous zone, but you have also allowed harm to come to my ship!"
Returning his attention to the LCAR screen, Dio allows his consternation to show as creases appear just below the decorative emblem center on his forehead. He is sure that the readings show the damage to the Coronado as originating from within the vessel but decides to double check just in case.
"Sir," Silas protests, "our sensors indicate that your damage came from an internal explosion, not from an attack. And we were hardly prepared to deal with a cloaked vessel here..."
Jacobs cuts him off. "Clearly, you should have been so prepared, Commander. And now, this entire summit is about to devolve into a bloodbath! What is your plan of action?"
Again, the origination of the explosion is confirmed. Lt. Lasad scans the various medical and engineering reports that are being sent throughout the accompanying ship and feels a swelling of sadness and anger. So many people lost,
Captain Drake takes a deep breath before speaking. "Sir, we are en route to the last known position of the attacking vessel, and will deal with her when she decloaks. Given the damage you have suffered, perhaps you should withdraw to a safer location until the threat is dealt with?"
Tapping the screen, Dio submits an offer of assistance to the Coronado's COO just as the older officer chortles. "Hardly. Let alone the fact that I will not turn tail and flee from the likes of these, where would you have me go? Into the asteroid field and further ambush? To a space station of unknown allegiance? No, we will stay where we are. Form up on us and protect this vessel. Prepare for an attack run against the Kuldarian forces."
No assistance needed at this time. Will contact if situation changes. The reply appears. Sending a quick acknowledgement, Dio begins the process of adjusting scans. Silas responds incredulously, "An attack run?—" "An attack run?!" Lt. Zai choruses Drake's words (albeit with less restraint than his commanding officer had managed) as his disbelieving gaze snaps to the viewscreen. Drake continues, "—But sir, we have excellent reason to believe that the Kuldar are not behind this attack! If we fire on their vessels, it will be a clear act of war."
Jacobs growls in return, "Mister Drake, don't be an idiot. A Kuldarian vessel has attacked two other ships, to say nothing of the damage we have sustained. Federation lives have been lost, the initial act of war has already been committed. You have your orders, show some respect to the uniform and follow them. Jacobs out."
With that, the connection was cut, and the view returned to the situation outside. Dio doesn't feel the need to inform anyone that the communication has ended and tightly presses his lips together as he filters the many various communications through to the appropriate departments. Quite unexpectedly, another stream of data flows onto his screen; this time from Sci-1 here on the Bridge.
Lieutenant Lasad tilts his head to the side while trying to decipher the cryptic sensor readings. It isn't but the bat of an eyelid before he realizes what it is that he's seeing and his heart beats a little faster. Bless your blue hide, Lieutenant Sh'iraolnas! A slim smile touches his lips and he immediately begins adjusting the sensors to reflect the information that the new Science Officer has provided. Across the Bridge, Tochi doesn't bother glancing up as, in that instant, the TAC mirror on his console lights up due to some new data funneled through by Asovil's science console. Still leveling curses at the arrogant Jacobs under his breath, Lt. Zai watches the stream of data, trying to make sense of it as it relates to maneuvering the ship and, as he extrapolates what he sees, keys in course corrections for two possible scenarios.
"Captain," Asovil offers after an instant, "I believe I have the Stormspike, sir. There's an absence of dark matter at the coordinates I've just shared with Tactical. It has roughly the same displacement factor as the Stormspike's dimensions. There's a forty-eight percent likelihood that my readings are the enemy vessel, sir. According to the computer, that is."
"Outstanding work, Lieutenant Sh'iraolnas!" the Captain exclaims.
"We have course corrections for those coordinates already laid in, Captain," Lt. Zai adds, his gaze pausing only for the briefest of instants of the Andorian CSO as his head turns to regard Silas, "Should we proceed with intercept?" He arches a quizzical brow as his eyes meet Drake's, then, and he considers his words for a moment, "Or would you rather we form up on the Coronado per Captain Jacobs' orders?"
Silas had less than a breath to have formed a reply but, despite that negligible span of time, Tochi feels it more than enough to interject and offer his own opinion as Drake's Executive officer. "For what it's worth, sir; we believe an assault run against the Kuldaran forces is ill-advised at this point, especially if we might intercept and disable the Stormspike and, thereby, with luck, reinforce any evidence that this is not a coordinated Kuldaran ambush,"
"I assure you, Lieutenant, that it is not," D'Lar offers emphatically from where he stands with a protective and guarded PO Zheng nearby, "The Stormspike, as far as any of my people are aware, has been missing and a derelict for generations. If we were to have planned an insurrection such as this, we would have brought more capable ships!"
Dio can't help but agree with the logic behind this statement. All of the available data on the Stormspike that he's been able to pull up from the Starfleet databases indicate that it is supremely inferior. Lt. Zai's gazed skips from the Kuldaran Ambassador and back to Silas once more, the expression on the Trill's face echoing one that might have appeared on Kasru Zai's when she undoubtedly believed what she was hearing to be true. "We follow your orders, Captain Drake," Tochi says, then, "not Jacobs'. Tell me where to be, sir," Agreed, Lasad turns his full attention to his captain and awaits orders.
Silas frowns as he strokes his chin. This is easily the most important decision yet of his career. Unfortunately, neither choice seems to offer smooth sailing—it would appear that he would have to select the lesser of two evils (or, at least, an evil he could live with).
Depth charges. The thought springs to Drake's mind. In ancient history, when submersible vehicles first came onto the scene, they were the terror of surface ships, which could not detect them beneath the waves. Those ancient navies had discovered that tossing explosives into the water near where a submarine was believed to be located could damage the submersible, force them to surface—if not destroy them outright.
That same concept could work here.
A crooked grin touches the corner of the Captain's mouth. "Depth charges," he says simply, vocalizing his inner thought. Dio reflexively twitches his head to the side by a degree or two as his brilliant mind works to decipher Silas' cryptic statement. Risa has a lot of water and marine combat isn't alien, but it still takes the Risian officer a couple of seconds to realize to what Silas is referencing and by that time the Peregrine's commanding officer is explaining himself.
Drake takes a deep breath. "Lieutenant Zai, lay in a course to form up with the Coronado, and engage at one quarter impulse."
What?! Tochi heard the incredulous tone in this unspoken reply and hoped that that skepticism hadn't quite made it from his mind to his face before he turned to tend his console. "Aye, sir," is the reply Tochi voices aloud as his fingers stab in the commands, "Forming up on the Coronado. Zero-zero-zero mark four-five, relative; one-quarter impulse." As the Peregrine responds to the Trill's course corrections, Drake sees the incredulous look begin to creep across his XO's face, so he continues. "In the meantime, Lieutenant Berk, analyze the data from Lieutenant Sh'iraolnas. Compare the last known position of the Stormspike and extrapolate her current speed and vector. Use the computer and come up with the most probable locations, then prepare two full spreads of photon torpedoes to detonate five kilometers from those positions; I think that a ten isoton payload should be sufficient. With any luck, we'll find the Stormspike, and disable rather than destroy her. If this works, we'll adjust the plan as need be."
((OOC: assuming Berk agrees/complies))
Glancing back at Tochi, Drake continues in a firm tone. "Lieutenant Zai, I appreciate your support more than you can know. However, as both your friend and your commanding officer, I cannot allow you to repeat the behavior you exhibited during our last call with Captain Jacobs. Lieutenant, unless you are directly addressed, you will be silent during such communications in the future, is that abundantly clear?"
"Yes, sir," Zai responds without turning to face the man, "Our apologies, Captain," He lets whatever explanation or excuse he might conjure up die a silent death in his thoughts and, instead, keeps his attentions focused on the viewer and his nav-displays.
The Captain's expression and voice soften a bit. "I'm a big boy, Tochi; I can fight my own battles. You standing up for me will only end in reprimands or worse for you. Be silent from here on out, that is an order."
We'd just as soon face those reprimands as pilot an attack run on an innocent and grossly outmatched people, for the sake of Jacobs' ego, the Trill muses sullenly. Given the order he'd just received, though, he dares not give the thought voice. Rather, he ensures that his plotted course provides Tactical with feasible firing solutions and answers simply; "Aye, sir."
That said, Silas looks back to his Tactical Chief. "Mister Berk, assuming you have those firing solutions, you may fire at will."
Let us pray that we can accomplish this with no further loss of life, Dio returns to his feeds and sends out notifications to the various department heads concerning their actions. They all should be informed and it is his duty to make sure that's the case.
The familiar whine and thrum of the torpedo tubes deploying their deadly payload coincides with and masks Tochi's apprehensive sigh as his gaze dances from console to viewscreen. The Risian officer joins the Trill in watching the twin volleys of photon torpedoes spread into space, hoping that they'll have the desired effect. Then, as Tochi's eyes take in the still reacting Kuldaran fleet, his mind already calculating the best course options and attack patterns should the Stormspike remain unrevealed, Dio Lasad expands his sensor readings to include the debris of the damaged vessels and the space surrounding them. Indicators show that the space station has scrambled and rescue shuttles are being scrambled. The other ships in proximity are all responding as would be expected of a surprised retinue and forming up or moving closer within the stations' protective ring. Two ships destroyed, sensor scans have so far found no survivors.
Posted on 2017-05-11 at 13:16:22.
Edited on 2017-05-12 at 10:32:03 by Bromern Sal
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: In the absence of players....
I have no problem taking on additional NPC roles as well. I hereby volunteer to play Dio Lasad until the return of the player. At the very least, I would like to put forth that absent players of department heads have coverage by active players until their return. If I am out of line, I will happily accept a reprimand on my permanent record. 
Posted on 2017-05-10 at 10:15:11.
Edited on 2017-05-10 at 10:16:05 by Bromern Sal
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: My 2 cents...
Boo, I'd say feel free to "improvise" Moore's involvement in Lori's absence. It seems kinda auspicious to have a "quiet" chief medical officer.
That is, of course, if Olan and Eol concur.
Posted on 2017-05-08 at 17:56:33.
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Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject: Welcome back, Vesper!
I have to admit that I'm saddened by the small number of players able to post over the past while, but what can I say? I've been beat up these past two weeks so I can't really complain now, can I?
Vesper, check your PM for information on the door.
Posted on 2017-05-08 at 11:38:20.
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Topic: Flesh & Blood - A Night City Adventure
Subject: Both parties have been advanced...
Night City Regional General Hospital, Emergency Room | Night City Integrate | Midcity | UrbanZone - Day 2 (Saturday), 3:02 AM PST
Weather Conditions: High City (Thunderstorms, 15mph winds from the NE.) | Midcity (Rain, 10mph winds from the NE.) | Undercity (Fog and Rain, no winds.)
Air Quality Index: High City = 25 | Midcity = 42 | Undercity = 75 (masks required)
Moving quickly yet steadily, trying not to attract too much attention, Casino makes his way down a number of white, sterile hallways with little in the way of decoration except for a picture or two hanging upon the wall. Finally coming upon a flat screen aid he receives his first real look at the layout of Night City General Hospital and does not like what he sees. Though there are multiple ways out, all are covered in some way by camera's and there is no way, short of disabling them, that he will get out unseen. Seen and possibly forgotten is one thing. However, being seen on camera and taped is a whole other story.
Damn, The big solo thinks to himself, free yet still in a box of sorts. Moving to adjust his arm, he suddenly remembers an item in the pocket of his jacket as it moves and jiggles against the squad car keys. Smiling to himself at the boldness of the idea springing into his head, he quickly moves back to the hallway indicated by the sergeant. Making his way to the exit and the waiting police, he pulls Rigg's police shield from his pocket, places it in full view around his neck and strides out into the parking lot heading for Rigg's and Murtaugh's car.
And surprisingly, it works. Approaching the exit, the leather clad solo slows his gait and raises his hands just enough to show he isn't a threat. Riot gear cops swing the doors open and motion him through with gloved hands.
"Everything all right, Officer Riggs?" one of the officers asks through his mask. Casino nods and doesn't risk voice recognition cyberware with a comment.
Proceeding past the line, he glances over his shoulder to see that not a single one of those six officers guarding the door are paying him any mind. Adjusting his path, Keith begins heading back along the sidewalk skirting the building towards the emergency room. Blue and red lights are reflecting off of everything. Wet surfaces are glaring while the more muted dry surfaces are still painted with the colors. Eventually, he arrives in full view of the array of squad cars and SWAT vans. Here, he veers to their rear and walks with intent as though he has orders. And again, those officers standing around dealing with the terrorists pay him no mind.
Arm throbbing but still being handled by the Pain Editor, Casino catches site of the car he rode in on and b-lines it for the trunk. Over the next thirty-seconds, the large edgerunner retrieves his stored gear and closes the trunk. Standing in the parking lot with so many cops close by, Casino is now truly free of the circumstances he had been forced into earlier in the night. The question becomes, what to do now and how to reconnect with his crew?
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West 43875 St. 52 High -- The Bartholomew School Grounds and Sewage/Runoff Drainage System | Night City Integrate | High City | UrbanZone - Day 2 (Saturday), 4:05 AM PST
Weather Conditions: High City (Thunderstorms, 15mph winds from the NE.) | Midcity (Rain, 10mph winds from the NE.) | Undercity (Fog and Rain, no winds.)
Air Quality Index: High City = 25 | Midcity = 42 | Undercity = 75 (masks required)
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Ghlahn slowly squeezes the trigger. Just before the point of no return, the sec team suddenly stops and changes directions. They head towards the small stand of trees in the middle of the grounds that Echo and Blossom had used to approach the buildings. They are unaware of how close the Angel of Death had hovered above them. Ghlahn releases the trigger and watches as another sec team—this one with a dog—joins the first and they move towards the wall. What have they found? Ghlahn keeps watch through his scope.
The four man security detail and German Shepard keep darting their lights down towards the ground, then up towards the fence. Once even stops and couches while using his gloved fingers to trace something in the earth. After this, he rises and the group converses for a moment. The one who had crouched points back towards the buildings and the others seem to concur, but there is some additional discussion and after a few more demonstrative seconds, the teams shine their lights along the wall towards Ghlahn's position. Any concern that he might be discovered is immediately put to bed when the light dissipates enough to barely illuminate the exterior of the desecrated drain. Unless one of them has enhanced optics, the sniper's position remains secure.
Searching with their lights dissolves into a return to approaching the buildings, their sweeping spotlights covering a wide swatch of grounds and their pace more determined.
Vegas allows an inward sigh of relief to not escape his lips into the quiet atmosphere of the hallway near the Main Office. Once he is certain they are not being followed, the Dapper Solo gathers in as close to the group as possible before whispering his analysis of any possible plan.
"Fixer is well able to unlock those glass doors to the Admin Office," Vegas whispers as quietly as possible, yet audibly enough for all to hear. "My question is, who can disable the security cameras?" The Frank Sinatra look-alike paused momentarily before quietly continuing his input to the huddled group. "Any security cameras are probably wired to detect abnormal traffic in the hallway, whether it is lit up or shrouded in darkness."
Blossom reveals her wrist-keyboard once more and begins furiously typing. After a moment, she looks up and rolls the sucker stem to the other side of her mouth. "Give me ten seconds,and there we go." she punches another command into her keyboard and then retracts the technology into her bracer. "It's on a loop. We should be covered."
(OOC: Assuming that the group has no further reservations,)
Creeping into the main hall, the party advances on the glass doors to the administrative office. Bloodbank moves to the back as everyone crowds about the door leaving Fixer and Blossom nearest to the entrance. To their left, the monstrous oak doors leading out the front of the admin building to the semi-circular drive arch ominously overhead and the blinking green light on the bottom of the camera flashes down over their heads.
Posted on 2017-05-08 at 11:36:41.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: I'm not holding things up!
I've written a lengthy update. Mostly just points of view.
Posted on 2017-05-08 at 10:59:32.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty
Subject: More posting from me!
Stardate 2365.02.11 (Thursday - 42143.
USS Peregrine; Deck 1 - Main Bridge - 11:02
"Captain," Asovil hesitates for a moment before finishing. "I believe I have the Stormspike, sir. There's an absence of dark matter at the coordinates I've just shared with Tactical. It has roughly the same displacement factor as the Stormspike's dimensions." Glancing up from her console to meet the captain's gaze, she licks her lips. "There's a forty-eight percent likelihood that my readings are the enemy vessel, sir. According to the computer, that is."
"Outstanding work, Lieutenant Sh'iraolnas!" the Captain exclaims. She cannot help her involuntary response at the praise. Forty-eight percent is not something she would ever make a perfunctory scientific declaration on were she writing a paper or making a claim to the scientific community and yet her captain—a man she has come to know as dour and taciturn—seems to think the minor percentage of likelihood a thing worthy of praise. Surprise expresses itself as a twitch and retreat of her antennae followed by a very slight rise to her manicured white eyebrows.
"We have course corrections for those coordinates already laid in, Captain," Lieutenant Zai adds, his gaze pausing only for the briefest of instants on the Andorian CSO (who is blinking rapidly as she turns back to her console and studiously subjects her dismay to a barrage of exercises designed to increase the possibility and refine the parameters of her initial scans) as his head turns to regard Silas, "Should we proceed with intercept?" He arches a quizzical brow as his eyes meet Drake's, then, and he considers his words for a moment... "Or would you rather we form up on the Coronado per Captain Jacobs' orders?"
Silas has less than a breath to form a reply but despite that negligible span of time, Tochi feels it more than enough to interject and offer his own opinion as Drake's Executive officer. "For what it's worth, sir; we believe an assault run against the Kuldaran forces is ill-advised at this point, especially if we might intercept and disable the Stormspike and, thereby, with luck, reinforce any evidence that this is not a coordinated Kuldaran ambush..."
"I assure you, Lieutenant, that it is not," D'Lar's emphatic voice bounces off the scientific readings and bounces into Sh'iraolnas' pretty face and yet she manages to remain focused on her work, "The Stormspike, as far as any of my people are aware, has been missing and a derelict for generations. If we were to have planned an insurrection such as this, we would have brought more capable ships!"
Lieutenant Zai's calm voice is quick to support the thought. "We follow your orders, Captain Drake," Tochi says, "not Jacobs'. Tell me where to be, sir..."
If I can tighten the pulse range and increase the rapidity of the ray's rhythm, Asovil considers in the momentary silence that follows, I might be able to increase the effectiveness of the results by two—maybe three—percent. I've been developing this to draw in dark matter, not detect it, Perhaps that's where I've been remiss! Enlightenment dawns. Her own project is taking on new life as she further extrapolates possibilities from the necessity to find a cloaked Stormspike.
"Depth charges," Captain Drake speaks simply, vocalizing his inner thought. Too wrapped up in her own possible discovery, Lt. Sh'iraolnas only just recognizes that the captain's words aren't directed at her.
Drake takes a deep breath. "Lieutenant Zai, lay in a course to form up with the Coronado, and engage at one quarter impulse." The Captain sees the incredulous look begin to creep across his XO's face, so he continues, "In the meantime, Lieutenant Berk, analyze the data from Lieutenant Sh'iraolnas. Compare the last known position of the Stormspike and extrapolate her current speed and vector. Use the computer and come up with the most probable locations, then prepare two full spreads of photon torpedoes to detonate five kilometers from those positions; I think that a ten isoton payload should be sufficient. With any luck, we'll find the Stormspike, and disable rather than destroy her. If this works, we'll adjust the plan as need be."
((OOC: assuming Berk agrees/complies))
Glancing back at Tochi, Drake continues in a firm tone. "Lieutenant Zai, I appreciate your support more than you can know. However, as both your friend and your commanding officer, I cannot allow you to repeat the behavior you exhibited during our last call with Captain Jacobs. Lieutenant, unless you are directly addressed, you will be silent during such communications in the future, is that abundantly clear?" The Captain's expression and voice softened a bit. "I'm a big boy, Tochi; I can fight my own battles. You standing up for me will only end in reprimands or worse for you. Be silent from here on out, that is an order."
Silas looks back to his Tactical Chief, "Mister Berk, assuming you have those firing solutions, you may fire at will."
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Stardate 2365.02.11 (Thursday - 42143.7)
USS Peregrine; Deck 4 - Sickbay - 10:56
Rocking with the convulsion of the Peregrine, Crewman Toriak deftly retains his footing and shuffles to reposition himself in front of his station once more. Glancing over his shoulder, the Vulcan raises his eyebrows at Cook awaiting orders to rush off to the damaged portion of the ship. Working furiously at her desk, the head nurse is obviously confirming the need for medical personnel. Confident in the woman's abilities and logically assuming that he will receive his orders whether he is looking expectantly at her or not, Toriak returns to his work. From elsewhere in the sickbay, Dr. Moore's instructions to local personnel float assuringly about.
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Stardate 2365.02.09 (Tuesday - 42137.6)
USS Peregrine; Deck 5 - Security Department - 10:53
As is his duty, Petty Officer 2nd Class Da Zheng focuses his attention on the alien ambassador in front of him and to the right. Perhaps because of the tension on the bridge, the Asian man has not released the grip he has on his phaser as he attempts to take in all of the action taking place before him. He doesn't often get time on the Bridge and watching the senior staff work is awe-inspiring.
"I see no evidence that they actually fired on the Coronado, Lieutenant," Captain Drake states after some consideration, "but discretion would be the better part of valor, here. Make it happen."
With a moment to take a breath, Lt. Zai speaks up again. "We might also add, Captain," he says, turning in his chair to address Captain Drake and the Ambassadors face-to-face, "Our observations suggest that neither the Kuldaran or Rytainian fleets reacted as if they had any foreknowledge of the Stormspike's attack. Neither have we seen any evidence that the explosion aboard the Coronado is the result of weapons-fire..." He scowls as his gaze pans slowly from D'Lar to Threel and Da follows suite. "...If you don't mind our saying, sir," the Trill officer offers, levelly meeting the Captain's' eyes, "We believe that D'Lar is speaking the truth..."
PO Zheng can't help but agree with the second officer's tactical assessment of the situation. He doesn't have the data in front of him, but he can see something of some of the screens at the stations and it does not appear to him that any of the other ships are taking action. One would have to be a cold commander indeed to hold all of your ships in absolute stationary position while an attack is taking place, and these ships aren't appearing powered for assisting in the attack as well.
The Captain nods his agreement. "Lieutenant Zai, I believe that you are correct. I won't yet venture to guess who is behind this attack, but it seems highly unlikely to be an act of the Kuldarian government... though I presume that we are, in fact, expected to believe that it is."
The words barely pass Captain Drake's lips when Ambassador Threel objects with a passionate force enough for PO Zheng to almost unholster his phaser, turning slightly to keep the alternate dignitary in easy view while at the same time keeping himself in a position between the two guests.
"This is an outrage!" the Rytainian bleats. "My people are savagely attacked, murdered in a filthy Kuldarian sneak attack, and you would absolve them of this crime?"
"Ambassador Threel," the Captain's patience has expired judging by the look on his face and the tone he's using, "I am quite certain that I did not stutter when instructed you to sit and be silent. You have become a major distraction, and a lack of focus could cost lives. Petty officer, escort the ambassador to his quarters at once, please, where he will remain until danger has passed. If he resists, stun him and drag him to the brig."
"Aye, sir." Threel's escort acknowledges.
The Rytain diplomat, indignantly screeching like a wounded feather-ape, is all but forcefully escorted from the bridge and Da cannot feel an iota of envy for the poor soul escorting the man.
"Mr. Lasad, Mr' Sh'iraolnas," Captain Drake barks and Zheng is once again grateful he isn't one of those two, "Find me that frakking ship!"
Seconds pass and the Petty Officer allows his brown eyes to drift about the Bridge, watching the officers work feverishly to find the offending vessel. He just returns his attention to the ambassador under his care when Lt. Lasad's eyes snapped up.
"Captain," the Chief Operations Officer declares, "the Coronado is hailing us."
"Put them on screen," Captain Drake orders.
"Mister Drake, what exactly are you doing?" PO Zheng can't help but feel a surge of annoyance at the obvious disregard for his captain's position in the haughty Coronado captain's address. "You have not only failed to secure the rendezvous zone, but you have also allowed harm to come to my ship!"
"Sir, our sensors indicate that your damage came from an internal explosion, not from an attack," Drake remonstrates, "And we were hardly prepared to deal with a cloaked vessel here,"
"Clearly," Jacobs interrupts, "you should have been so prepared, Commander. And, now, this entire summit is about to devolve into a bloodbath! What is your plan of action?"
Should have—How in the hell could we have possibly been prepared for a cloaked vessel? Da adopts a steely expression and becomes more aware of the weight on his hip where his hand rests on the phaser. Honor is no small thing and there was a time when his people would have responded to such affronts of their liege with challenges. In some things, Da thinks that civilization has taken away rather than provided.
"Sir," Captain Silas Drake responds following a slow intake of breath, "we are en route to the last known position of the attacking vessel and will deal with her when she decloaks. Given the damage you've suffered perhaps you should withdraw to a safer location until the threat is dealt with."
The derisive tone in the chuckle Jacobs offers, then, is almost more than the protective security crewman can take.
"Hardly," the pompous CO of the Coronado rebukes Captain Drake, " Leave alone the fact that I will not turn tail and flee from the likes of these, where would you have me go?..."
"Straight up your own frillin' ch'ola," Da is surprised to here Lt. Zai grumbled softly, "sir."
",Into the asteroid field and further ambush? To a space station of unknown allegiance? No. We will stay where we are. Form up on us and protect this vessel. Prepare for an attack run against the Kuldarian forces." Captain Jacobs concludes.
"An attack run?!" Lieutenant Zai's incredulous declaration choruses Captain Drake's and Da has to agree. The maneuver makes no sense. From what Petty Officer 2nd Class Da Zheng can see, not one of the Kuldarian ships have taken an offensive posture.
",sir," Captain Drake continues his protest, "we have excellent reason to believe that the Kuldar are not behind this attack! If we fire on their vessels, it will be a clear act of war."
"Mister Drake," Jacobs growls in return, "don't be an idiot. A Kuldarian vessel has attacked two other ships, to say nothing of the damage we have sustained. Federation lives have been lost, the initial act of war has already been committed. You have your orders, show some respect to the uniform and follow them. Jacobs out."
With that, the connection ends, and the view returns to the situation outside—the rather confused view of ships struggling to come completely online and react to the surprise attack. PO Zheng turns a curious eye towards Ambassador D'Lar. The scaled gray man is expressive in his concern and Da can't help but feel that the man knows nothing of the attack and is, in fact, as surprised as anyone. Of course, that doesn't mean that his government isn't aware. Da can recall many a tale from Starfleet Academy concerning the use of Trojan Horses in the form of peace envoys. He knows that as a member of the security department, he cannot rule out any possibility until it has been officially eliminated. Keep a close eye on D'Lar, he may yet have something up those plain sleeves of his,
"Captain," the blue-skinned beauty in the corner station—science, Da believes—speaks up, "I believe I have the Stormspike, sir. There's an absence of dark matter at the coordinates I've just shared with Tactical. It has roughly the same displacement factor as the Stormspike's dimensions. There's a forty-eight percent likelihood that my readings are the enemy vessel, sir. According to the computer, that is."
"Outstanding work, Lieutenant Sh'iraolnas!" the Captain exclaims.
Da is immediately impressed. He's heard of the Andorian's battle prowess, but the Chief Science Officer assisting in such a manner is completely unexpected. He knows next to nothing about dark matter and the science behind her discovery, but he does know that no advancements in the detection of cloaked vessels has been made throughout all of Starfleet. If this proves accurate, her name could very well go down in history and her method could be taught in Starfleet Academy tactical classes.
"We have course corrections for those coordinates already laid in, Captain," Lt. Zai adds and PO Zheng immediately notices the Trill's gaze pausing only for the briefest of instants on the Andorian CSO as his head turns to regard Silas. The rumors seem to be holding up,, "Should we proceed with intercept?" The second officer arches a quizzical brow as his eyes meet Captain Drake's. Then, he adds, "Or would you rather we form up on the Coronado per Captain Jacobs' orders?
"For what it's worth, sir; we believe an assault run against the Kuldaran forces is ill-advised at this point, especially if we might intercept and disable the Stormspike and, thereby, with luck, reinforce any evidence that this is not a coordinated Kuldaran ambush,"
"I assure you, Lieutenant, that it is not," D'Lar offers emphatically and Da is once again reminded to keep his eye on the ambassador, "The Stormspike, as far as any of my people are aware, has been missing and a derelict for generations. If we were to have planned an insurrection such as this, we would have brought more capable ships!"
Lt. Zai's gazed skips from the Kuldaran Ambassador back to Silas, the expression on the Trill's face echoing one that might have appeared on Kasru Zai's when she undoubtedly believed what she was hearing to be true. "We follow your orders, Captain Drake," the Lieutenant says, voicing what Zheng knows is the rest of the crew's opinion, "not Jacobs'. Tell me where to be, sir,"
Captain Drake frowns as he strokes his chin, thinking. A crooked grin touches the corner of the Captain's mouth. "Depth charges," he says simply, vocalizing his inner thought.
Drake takes a deep breath. "Lieutenant Zai, lay in a course to form up with the Coronado, and engage at one quarter impulse." The Captain witnesses the incredulous look creeping across his XO's face, so he continues. "In the meantime, Lieutenant Berk, analyze the data from Lieutenant Sh'iraolnas. Compare the last known position of the Stormspike and extrapolate her current speed and vector. Use the computer and come up with the most probable locations, then prepare two full spreads of photon torpedoes to detonate five kilometers from those positions; I think that a ten isoton payload should be sufficient. With any luck, we'll find the Stormspike, and disable rather than destroy her. If this works, we'll adjust the plan as need be."
((OOC: assuming Berk agrees/complies))
Glancing back at Tochi, Drake continues in a firm tone. "Lieutenant Zai, I appreciate your support more than you can know. However, as both your friend and your commanding officer, I cannot allow you to repeat the behavior you exhibited during our last call with Captain Jacobs. Lieutenant, unless you are directly addressed, you will be silent during such communications in the future, is that abundantly clear?" The Captain's expression and voice softens a bit. "I'm a big boy, Tochi; I can fight my own battles. You standing up for me will only end in reprimands or worse for you. Be silent from here on out, that is an order."
That said, Silas looks back to his Tactical Chief. "Mister Berk, assuming you have those firing solutions, you may fire at will."
PO Zheng can't help but smile a grim expression of knowing satisfaction. Sure, Lt. Zai has been reprimanded, but the security crewman can only hope that his captain knows that there isn't a person on board the Peregrine who won't stand up for him. Especially once Da shares his version of the Bridge action with his shipmates. Brilliant problem solving and amazing strategy, the Peregrine is in the perfect hands.
Posted on 2017-05-08 at 10:55:58.
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Topic: Ummm... yeah....
Subject: It is Grugg!
I didn't even realize that when I posted. Welcome back Grugg!
Posted on 2017-05-05 at 23:16:48.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: LAME!!!
You are way too creative for me to let you get away with not posting, Boo.
Shame! Shame!
Posted on 2017-05-04 at 20:26:49.
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Topic: Ummm... yeah....
Subject: PIZZA!!!
Arby's Pizza!
Posted on 2017-05-04 at 20:25:34.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: I like it!
Loved the post, Eol.
Anyone want to interact as NPCs, I'm game.
Posted on 2017-05-01 at 17:09:00.
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Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject: Awesome.
The rest of you should also be aware that I've posted a continuation for the school group.
Posted on 2017-05-01 at 08:38:27.
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Topic: Flesh & Blood - A Night City Adventure
Subject: And a plan is needed once again...
West 43875 St. 52 High -- The Bartholomew School Grounds and Sewage/Runoff Drainage System | Night City Integrate | High City | UrbanZone - Day 2 (Saturday), 4:03 AM PST
Weather Conditions: High City (Thunderstorms, 15mph winds from the NE.) | Midcity (Rain, 10mph winds from the NE.) | Undercity (Fog and Rain, no winds.)
Air Quality Index: High City = 25 | Midcity = 42 | Undercity = 75 (masks required)
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TICK-TOC, TICK-TOC
The seconds passed as Ghlahn watches the sec team moving. Did they know they had perhaps less than two minutes to live? The sniper knows the men could be fathers or husbands, that they certainly are sons, but none of that matters in this moment. They made the choice of their profession as he had made his. Still, he hopes for some sort of sign that the others had made it safely into the building.
Fixer focuses himself on the door. This needed skill set is one he learned because he had to. Not all jobs are clean like this one is supposed to be. Snatch and grab type heist jobs had kept him fed and his bills paid more than once. Not glory work, but it was what it was. The Techscanner in Rider's bracer runs through its program and shows the door free of any erroneous alarms. With the sweep being clean, the techie notes the key card lock and retries his card scanner from where it is stored in his pack.
The device is small, not much bigger than his cred chip or a credit card. Fixer places the diminutive device next to the door's card reader and activates the screen. Numbers, letters, and various symbols rotate through the 250 placeholders. If Fixer puts his mind to it, he can come up with the number of possible combinations. 50 different characters with 250 different placeholders have trillions of different combinations; not something anybody can reasonably go through with only manual input. The grayish green characters slowly lock into place one by one. He trusts to others to cover his rear while he does his job here, his attention completely focused on the task at hand.
Cold seeps into his hands while Fixer works on the lock. A numbing cold. Why does he not have gloves? Because he is not someone who normally trudges through the trench work. He does not do the physical part of runs. His firearm - just for show (though he would not admit it to those he was running with). Here he is though, and he is making something of a show of it so far, even if it perhaps is not what they had brought him along for.
Fixer feels a body push up against his backside from where he is working Echo's warning in hot pursuit. "Patrol coming—help him get us in if you can. We don't have any time to lose."
"Have just little bit of faith if you would," Fixer speaks back as the card decrypter is nearly finishing with its job. "I can hear you just fine myself."
The door makes a soft click and jerks inward a hair. "It is done," he states matter-of-factly, a single swift movement tucks the card decrypter in the inside pocket of his jacket. His near numbs hands grip the pistol handle of his Uzi as Fixer moves through the door to survey the initial interior of the building.
The Frank Sinatra look-alike remains vigilant in case the group is discovered; already having decided to protect the group by running interference between them and any patrols if Fixer is unable to gain access and provide a way of escape from their outdoor predicament.
Echo grins, mentally giving Fixer a hi-five and ushers the others in, carefully shutting the door quietly. Keeping her voice low she speaks to the others, "Keep still and low till they pass, we don't need to add any more to our little shindig."
She keeps watch unobtrusively out the window on the door, waiting for the guards she knows are coming to pass, keeping the others quiet.
Once inside, the protective Dapper Solo quickly surveys the interior of the building, before choosing to take a position at the rear of the group, closest to the door they have entered through, in case they are followed. Vegas is Ready for Action!
From his underground perch, Ghlahn patiently watches the patrol skirt the remainder of the sports field and carefully continue on towards the north end of the Sports Hall. Still as a statue he keeps the rear security guard in his crosshairs, his breathing even and controlled. Still plenty of time for some indication from the rest of the team that everything is good, but aside from their agents, they have no way to communicate.
The space inside the door of the admin building is cramped for the crew of four. Realizing that the door will provide little to no cover should anyone approach it directly, Echo and Vegas insist they move a little further down the black flecked white tile hall. The blackness of the night envelopes them as they comply.
"Ok Chicka," Echo whispers to Blossom, "now it's your show, what do you need from us besides an escort to the security room?"
"It'd be nice if the map extended to inside the buildings, but we'll have to make due." Blossom responds as she adjusts her sunglasses. "You've been a prep-school girl before, right? Where would the security office be?"
This is an easy request for the nomad to fulfill. Administration buildings always have an attendance office for checking in and checking out students. Places like this--like the Bartholomew School--will likely have merged any attendance situations with their intake office, which would be at the front of the building on the main floor. If there is a security office, it will just as likely be near the attendance office. Main floor, front of the building.
(OOC: Assuming Echo shares,)
"That way, then," Bloodbank points down the hall towards the T-section. Echo takes the lead from Fixer, her heavy submachine gun in hand but the circumstances being what they are, her flashlight is off. Blossom follows, then Fixer and Bloodbank, with Vegas bringing up the rear. They stick close to the walls, hoping not to draw attention to themselves with any interior security systems. Blossom quickly pulls up her wifi scanner and monitors the strength through her ocular screen. At the highest signal she's experienced thus far, she hijacks the feed and injects her virus once again.
At the T, Echo glances into the darkness to her left and then right. The left ends in a sharp right after ten meters with a door on either side of the short hall. The right extends much further into darkness that her natural vision cannot penetrate. Riding a hunch, she leads the others to the right.
Over his shoulder, Vegas catches sight of flashlights bobbing out the back door just as he rounds the corner at the T-section. For the time being, they have managed to avoid the patrol. He pauses and listens for the telltale sounds of the door opening, waiting at the corner just in case.
Crosshairs centered on the body mass of his target, Ghlahn prepares to shoot. The patrol is drawing awfully close to the northwestern edge of the Sports Hall placing them dangerously close to stumbling on his team. Then, they stop, shine their lights out into the grounds to the north, scanning the area. Without apparent reason, the pair turn their attention towards the trees in the middle of the grounds and begin a rapid, rush approach as though expecting someone to be behind them. Then, another team of two, this time with the dog, come rushing towards the trees from the other side of the compound. They are currently moving away from the direction his teammates went.
Proceeding down the hall with her weapon raise, the dripping wet nomad mentally winces with each squeak of her boots on the tile, the creak of her leathers, and the seemingly overly loud breathing from everyone in the party. The Admin Building is eerily quiet. Deafeningly so. And yet familiar sights guide her through the halls past various staff offices, the open foyer where students await appointments with their counselors, and trophy cases filled with academic achievements. She's leading them closer and closer to their mark. She can sense it just as assuredly as she can feel the memories of her childhood drifting back to her conscious mind. And then, there it is.
The main office is around a corner and down a hall that is perhaps twenty meters long and nearly eight meters wide. It is encased in glass with wood chair rails as accents. She can barely make out the holo emitters for the marquee above the door, and just next to the office is the front doors to the Admin Building. These are large, oak monstrosities set two abreast and six wide. There are windows over the doors letting in a soft spill of exterior light from the parking lot and roundabout drive illumination, but the interior of the office appears black and empty.
"There's bound to be people on duty in the security office," Bloodbank whispers close to her ear. He's probably close enough that were she not wearing leathers, she could feel the warmth from his body.
"Well," Blossom crouches against the wall some four or five steps back down the hall out of sight of the larger, wider main hall. "Here we are, now what's the plan?"
Gaining access to the security room will likely mean gaining access to the main office. The main office is probably locked and there are most certainly security cameras at the front doors looking down the length of the main hall towards the group. Since the lights are off, the security cameras are probably outfitted with either low-light technology or night vision. Straight across from their hiding place, the smaller hall the group is currently huddled in continues into darkness.
Back out in the compound, the two security teams converge on the tree stand and move about it shining their lights all around the base and up into the limbs. After a couple of minutes they merge and the four humans and one dog make their way towards the wall straight north of the tree copse.
Posted on 2017-05-01 at 02:26:47.
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Topic: Flesh & Blood - A Night City Adventure
Subject: For Casino... the rest will get their update tomorrow.
Night City Regional General Hospital, Emergency Room | Night City Integrate | Midcity | UrbanZone - Day 2 (Saturday), 3:00 AM PST
Weather Conditions: High City (Thunderstorms, 15mph winds from the NE.) | Midcity (Rain, 10mph winds from the NE.) | Undercity (Fog and Rain, no winds.)
Air Quality Index: High City = 25 | Midcity = 42 | Undercity = 75 (masks required)
"Get down on the ground! Hands in the air! Now!" Multiple individuals yell, their adrenaline heightened by the hostage situation they are walking into.
Choosing to comply, the big solo does as he is told. His arms up in the air, pain suddenly in his left his shoulder but quickly controlled thanks to his body encased technology. Two soldiers in dark blue uniforms rush forward and red dots play across his armored chest while a third drops down just out of lunging range and pulls up his combat mask revealing a black man with a thin mustache over his large lips and intense eyes.
"What's your name?"
"Vegas Santari." Replying with the name most on my mind.
"What's back there?" the officer motions with the barrel of his weapon back towards the emergency room but before the gunman can answer the officer's radio barks. Alpha Team reporting. Threat eliminated. Lobby cleared. Moving into the emergency room now.
"You've two seconds, man," the SWAT officer presses, while motioning his shield line forward.
"I don't know all of it." Casino adopts as innocent an attitude as he can muster. "I was in the ER treatment area when from the lobby came shouts and gunshots. At the urging of the nurse--" Keith delivers a description of Nurse Altruist. "--she told me and all others to leave, but I hesitated as it was clear she planned to stay. However, when a bunch of guys charged in guns drawn I shot out the door behind me into this back hallway. As I left I heard a bunch of gun fire and do not know what it was about."
"Sarge?" one of the blue uniforms with the shields calls the question back to the black officer interrogating Casino. The sergeant glances over the solo's shoulder and presses his lips together before instructing the injured hired gun.
"I ain't got time for this. Head straight down this hall. Don't take any of the side halls until you reach the exit sign. Follow that out to the front. There are some cops there that will take your name and story."
Standing, the sergeant looks as though he's not entirely sure he is happy with this course of action. Resigning himself to the situation, he moves quickly past Casino and joins his fellow officers while the two with red dot lasers keep their attention focused on the solo.
(OOC: assuming Casino takes advantage of this lucky change of events and makes haste down the hall,)
White, sterile hallways with very little by way of decoration except for the occasional picture hanging above the chair rail pass by the sweating solo in a blur as he takes long strides towards freedom. He makes sure to stay on course for as long as the SWAT team can possibly have him in their sights and then cuts into an adjoining hall, breaking down another shortly thereafter, and then a third and fourth in short succession. He's caught up in the maze that is Night City Regional General Hospital in no time at all, but quickly locates a helpful map.
Flat screen aid shows him multiple ways out. There's three additional exits within five minutes that will take him to the ground level and likely the scene of cop cars and SWAT. The parking garage consists of eight levels of sprawling stalls delving deeper into the lower depth of Mid-City. The roof is another twelve stories overhead and attaches directly into a central transit shaft large enough and regulated enough to allow for air deliver of patients in either AV's or Roto-vehicles. Not much chance of getting anywhere from the roof. The other challenge resides in the number of cameras within the hospital. They are at practically every corner, overlooking stairs, elevators, and nurse stations. It would seem that Big Brother is curiously monitoring all hospital activity. The question now becomes, how is Casino going to use his new found freedom?
Posted on 2017-04-30 at 00:29:40.
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Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject: I will post tomorrow...
No later than tomorrow. I promise. I've been seriously under the gun at work...
Um... so, it's now 11:36 PM and I'm just finishing work for the day. I hope you'll all forgive me if I postpone updating the game until tomorrow.
Posted on 2017-04-27 at 18:29:59.
Edited on 2017-04-29 at 00:36:52 by Bromern Sal
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty
Subject: Red rover, red rover...
Stardate 2365.02.11 (Thursday - 42143.8 )
USS Peregrine; Deck 1 - Main Bridge - 10:56
"Captain," she turns to face Silas, antennae perched in a forward anticipatory position on the back of her head. "With your permission I would like to polarize the hull. If the Stormspike has the means to attack from a cloaked position, we need to insure that we aren't taken by surprise. Polarizing the hull will help sturdy the Peregrine's structure against energy attacks among other things."
Drake nods in response to the ingenious suggestion. "I see no evidence that they actually fired on the Corondao, Lieutenant, but discretion would be the better part of valor, here. Make it happen."
Asovil dips her head in acknowledgement and turns back to her console just as Tochi speaks up again. "We might also add, Captain," he says, his gaze framing Silas and the Ambassadors, now, "Our observations suggest that neither the Kuldaran or Rytainian fleets reacted as if they had any foreknowledge of the Stormspike's attack. Neither have we seen any evidence that the explosion aboard the Coronado is the result of weapons-fire..." He scowls as his gaze pans slowly from D'Lar to Threel. "...If you don't mind our saying, sir," the Trill offers, levelly meeting Silas' eyes, now, "We believe that D'Lar is speaking the truth."
Fully focusing on her task of polerizing the hull, Lt. Asovil Sh'iraolnas barely registers the logic used by the Trill and the subsequent response from the captain.
"Lieutenant Zai," Silas' level tone drifts past the numbers she's entering into the computer. "I believe that you are correct. I won't yet venture to guess who is behind this attack, but it seems highly unlikely to be an act of the Kuldarian government... though I presume that we are, in fact, expected to believe that it is."
The words had barely passed Drake's lips when Threel objects with a passion. "This is an outrage!" he bleats. "My people are savagely attacked, murdered in a filthy Kuldarian sneak attack, and you would absolve them of this crime?"
Completing the command, the Peregrine's CSO activates the hull polarization and watches intently as the diagram of the ship graphically illustrates the coverage, a section of the screen designated for the charge integrity percentage.
"Ambassador Threel," Captain Drake's temper is kaput. "I am quite certain that I did not stutter when instructed you to sit and be silent. You have become a major distraction, and a lack of focus could cost lives. Petty officer, escort the ambassador to his quarters at once, please, where he will remain until danger has passed. If he resists, stun him and drag him to the brig."
"Aye, sir," the Petty Officer replies. Having served in the Imperial Guard, rubbernecking (as the humans called it) is a known disregard for discipline and Asovil maintains her attention on the screen in front of her with the strictest adherence to the cause.
Threel lividly spits his indignation. "How dare you! I have status! You have no right! I will see that..." Something transpires behind the science officer that silences the ambassador and shortly thereafter the turbolift doors open and close.
Silas speaks into the resounding silence that follows. "Mister Lasad, Mister Sh'iraolnas - find me that frakking ship."
Restraining a wince and flinch through her shoulders, Asovil clenches her jaw and thinks. To her knowledge there's no way to detect a cloaked vessel. She has read discourse containing mounds of supposition but nothing yet has been conclusive. As a matter-of-fact, most scientists in the Federation believe it to be out of reach of their current technology.
Suddenly, Dio informs them, "Captain, the Coronado is hailing us."
"Put them onscreen," Silas responds.
Some of the greatest minds in science and engineering have tackled the problem of revealing a cloaked ship and now Captain Silas Drake wants her to succeed where so many others have failed. Furrowing her brow, Asovil closes her eyes in an attempt to drown out the noise from the Bridge and focus on the problem at hand.
"Mister Drake," Jacobs' icy tone penetrates her thoughts, "what exactly are you doing? You have failed not only to secure the rendezvous zone, but you have also allowed harm to come to my ship!"
"Sir," Drake protests, "our sensors indicate that your damage came from an internal explosion, not from an attack. And we were hardly prepared to deal with a cloaked vessel here—"
Jacobs cuts him off. "Clearly, you should have been so prepared, Commander. And now, this entire summit is about to devolve into a bloodbath! What is your plan of action?"
Captain Drake takes a deep breath, "Sir, we are en route to the last known position of the attacking vessel, and will deal with her when she decloaks. Given the damage you have suffered, perhaps you should withdraw to a safer location until the threat is dealt with?"
The older officer actually chortles. "Hardly. Let alone the fact that I will not turn tail and flee from the likes of these, where would you have me go? Into the asteroid field and further ambush? To a space station of unknown allegiance? No, we will stay where we are. Form up on us and protect this vessel. Prepare for an attack run against the Kuldarian forces."
Silence follows the order and Asovil continues her line of thinking. If standard sensors won't work to detect any deviation in space, perhaps there's another way to indicate the presence of the Stormspike. Space, detection, she suddenly feels very obtuse.
"An attack run?" Captain Drake questions, breaking the stunned silence. "But sir, we have excellent reason to believe that the Kuldar are not behind this attack! If we fire on their vessels, it will be a clear act of war."
Jacobs growls in return. "Mister Drake, don't be an idiot. A Kuldarian vessel has attacked two other ships, to say nothing of the damage we have sustained. Federation lives have been lost, the initial act of war has already been committed. You have your orders, show some respect to the uniform and follow them. Jacobs out."
With that, the connection was cut, and the view returned to the situation outside.
Lt. Sh'iraolnas pulls up her experiment and swipes the screen to duplicate the data file. Fingers fly across the commands activating changes to the telemetry and shape of the detection beam. Conical reduces the range, but expands the volume of space covered, but we already have the last known coordinates, Querying the computer, the science officer immediately receives a number of projected flight path scenarios. Tapping three in sequence she orders the computer to determine the likelihood for each before proceeding to punch in an adjustment to the dark matter detection beam, flattening it and widening the spread. The second flight path proves to have the greatest statistical likelihood. Entering the beam beginning coordinates and the arch of space, Asovil activates the sensors.
Holding her breath as the numbers appear on her monitor, the blue-skinned beauty barely takes notice of the tension in her shoulders. Nothing, it isn't going to work. Two-thirds of the way through the scan the variance occurs. Small enough that she nearly misses it, Asovil taps the series of numbers that are within the range of deviation enlarging them and moving them into a diagram format. With the computer's help, she's beginning to see what isn't there. Or rather, she's seeing what's not there that's supposed to not be there.
"Captain," Asovil hesitates for a moment before finishing. "I believe I have the Stormspike, sir. There's an absence of dark matter at the coordinates I've just shared with Tactical. It has roughly the same displacement factor as the Stormspike's dimensions." Glancing up from her console to meet the captain's gaze, she licks her lips. "There's a forty-eight percent likelihood that my readings are the enemy vessel, sir. According to the computer, that is." The computer says forty-eight percent, but I know this is it. Dark matter does not lie. What isn't there not being there has got to be a sure sign.
The Andorian woman is not sure how much time has passed since Jacobs' orders, but she's desperately hoping that it isn't too late.
Posted on 2017-04-27 at 18:28:48.
Edited on 2017-04-27 at 22:11:46 by Bromern Sal
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Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject: That's true, Tann...
You're absolutely right, Tann. If you can unlock them.
The only communication you have is the agent. I haven't double-checked, but I think at the beginning before you ever left the fish factory the team exchanged numbers.
Posted on 2017-04-25 at 10:41:14.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: Awesome!
Looking forward to it.
Posted on 2017-04-24 at 09:12:57.
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Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject: Enjoying all of the posts thus far...
Aletheia, your characters don't have comms. Sorry, but that wasn't something you all accounted for. You have Agents (well, most of you do), but no other communications devices.
Posted on 2017-04-24 at 08:49:12.
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