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Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject: The other question...
Let's address the elephant in the room, shall we?
Posting has been difficult for most, and irregular over the past couple of weeks as RL has taken hold of us and spun us out of control. Do we want to continue this game, or should we call it quits?
Posted on 2016-08-25 at 14:03:43.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: I wish I had your energy.
I have a full day at work today, and I didn't arrive early due to traffic. So, I'll try to get some posting time in, but it may be tomorrow before I'm able to do so.
Posted on 2016-08-25 at 11:01:37.
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Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject: I'm sorry that you're having to deal with RL!
Not a problem, Ayrn. I completely understand.
I have a full day at work today, and due to traffic, I wasn't able to make it in early like I normally do. As such, I'll attempt to get the post up, but it may be tomorrow before I am able to do so.
Posted on 2016-08-25 at 10:59:23.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: No pressure, but...
I'm with Eol on this one!
By the way... TAG, EVERYONE!
Posted on 2016-08-24 at 13:35:35.
Edited on 2016-08-24 at 13:35:51 by Bromern Sal
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty
Subject: More! More! More! Get Everyone Involved! Muahahahahaha!
Stardate 2365.02.08 (Monday)
USS Peregrine - Deck 4 Lift to Deck 5 - 1545ish
The lift door closes and the Trill orders it to deck five. Looking a bit reluctant to relive what's tumbling around in his head, the XO has a faraway gaze that momentarily worries the science officer. Did I go too far in asking? Relief floods her being the moment his quiet voice elaborates on his thoughts.
",I was, different," his tone matches the reflective set to his features as he chews on that last word for an instant, then, with a near imperceptible nod, repeats it, "I was different, in my early career, than we are now. Reckless, some might have said, and, had very little ambition as to climbing through the ranks beyond where doing so might get me seated at the helm. Then, as you have said, and as it is wont to do, the Universe stepped in and made a course correction." The set of the Trill's features has gone enigmatic, then, almost as if he has somehow lost himself in the thought, and one hand drifts absently up to rest on his abdomen. He blinks, after a long moment, and, just before the door opens onto deck five,smiles at her. "We became more," he shrugs, almost chuckling the words, "We've seen more of the galaxy than I could have ever have hoped, and our career, our life, veered into what I might have once considered uncharted territory."
The door whisks open and Asovil steps into the corridor and Tochi continues, "So," he says, motioning her in the direction of the Observation Lounge, "measure for measure, yes?"
But I have so many questions about your symbiote and the joining! Using her left hand to brush her soft, white hair over her ear, the Andorian woman takes up step next to Lt. Zai and considers what to share next. She isn't one to just open up to people and small talk has always been difficult for her. She has always been approached by men in different settings due to her appearance, but aside from one or two relationships in her life, has never found a man to hold her attention for very long. But that is not something you share with a superior officer who is just doing his duty and welcoming a girl on board a new ship.
"Fair enough," she manages. Two crewmen in ops colors deep in conversation barely manage to move aside before colliding with her. Even with their avoidance tactics, Asovil is forced to turn sideways and barely skims past. "Have you ever—in your vast travels, and through all of your lifetimes—wondered what's on the other side of a black hole, or what would happen if you could fold the Universe, or what uses a small measure of a neutron star's energy could have?
"I grew up with my father asking ‘what if' about everything. The first real questions of any importance that I remember formulating had to do with our solar system. The first paper I wrote for publication (it was rejected, in case you're wondering) had to do with stellar formation and the evolution of our star. My curiosity hasn't subsided either. I'm currently working on a dark matter/dark energy theory with some colleagues from various facilities throughout the Federation. I hear that these Saber class vessels have the latest technologies in Stellar Cartography. I'm looking forward to spending time there and putting some of my theories to test."
Her reveal has the two of them approaching the Observation Lounge's doors. Falling quiet, Asovil falls into a subordinate position slightly behind Tochi and to his right.
Deck 5; Observation Lounge - 1605
"So, where were we," Tochi asks, returning his distant thoughts back to the present.
"The Peregrine has it's own wait staff?" Asovil finds herself very amused by the interactions taking place in the lounge, particularly between the XO and the various women. Is he interested in me that way? The thought nearly rolls her antennae into curls and she ushers it away with haste.
Lieutenant Zai blinks through a mildly confused expression. Then, his gaze tracks from Asovil to where Leah is speaking to the Andaran nurse. "Ah," he chuffs softly, his eyes returning to frame his dinner companion again. "Not officially, no. Petty Officer Finnley is technically a Catering Specialist in our Ops department. As a patrol vessel, though, the Peregrine hasn't had much of an opportunity to apply that particular specialty, beyond adding some variety to our replicator menus, so, she's often here, playing host. Adding a bit of color to an otherwise sparse lounge, we suppose."
Tochi chuckles and adds, "With the ambassadors on board, though, we imagine she'll actually have occasion to cater an event or two. That should make her happy.
Anyway," he shrugs, folding his hands together atop the table and leaning forward just a bit as he smiles interestedly, "we were in the midst of a measure-for-measure thing, weren't we? Was it your turn or ours?"
"Most certainly yours," Asovil states and folds her own hands on the table in front of her. Leaning forward a bit conspiratorially herself, she asks, "Do you retain all of the memories when you are joined?"
(OOC: Pokin' Eol.)
Stardate 2365.02.08 (Monday)
USS Peregrine - Sickbay, Deck 4 - 1556
The door to the sickbay opens and admits a flurry of frustration in the form of PO Cook. Toriak is practically lying across the medical technician and looks back over his shoulder with a bland expression on his Vulcan face. Bachmann hears the door and struggles to sit, but being held down as he is, can't manage anything more than mumbled futility.
"What in the Bloody Hell is going on in here?" Petty Officer Cook bellows pausing just inside the door. Turiak assumes Cook is taking her time to figure out what's going on before descending further into the madness. An assumption that is confirmed as she produces a hypospray from her belt and approaches.
"Care to explain yourselves gentlemen?" Cook asks while eyeballing the two of them.
"Chief!" Ryan squirms again and attempts to look at his superior around the broad shoulder of the yeoman holding him down. "There's something in the wall. It attacked me, but I fended it off—I think."
"Petty Officer Bachmann was engaged in some work on Station Two when I noticed him almost collapse," the Vulcan explains in a calm voice that is in direct contradiction to the frantic nature of the man he's holding down. "When I approached him, he began to speak of this attack and would grow more terrified the closer to the station conn one came. I moved to lie him down, but he refused to take the bed at Station Two, so I moved him to Station Three and contacted you directly.
"He has already requested a security detail, Chief Cook. I estimate their arrival any moment."
"There's something there," Ryan croaks, gripping the Vulcan's left forearm with his right hand, but dropping his head back on the bed. "Something in the wall, in the conn, it attacked me."
"If I may make a suggestion?" Yeoman Turiak raises his eyebrows in askance. (OOC: assuming an affirmative.) "With Lt. Thorson's cybernetic failure, the strange container taken on board earlier, and the presence of the ambassadors; perhaps it would be wise to have Engineering take a look at the conn."
(OOC: Back to you, BooBoo, and here's an opening for including Haemis. Brennus_Stagborn, feel free to bring Security into the picture as well!)
Posted on 2016-08-24 at 13:33:35.
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Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject: All right! Some posts!
So, we're still missing half the crew in the tunnels. I'll give it today and post tomorrow morning. Hope everyone can get their posts in!
Posted on 2016-08-24 at 12:28:25.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: I've done it now!
I've posted for Asovil, and am good with the play-by-post continuation of the happenings and conversation between Asovil and Tochi, Eol.
I've also posted a little wrinkle... 
Posted on 2016-08-23 at 17:09:40.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty
Subject: Just throwing something into the mix... This is not to derail the main plot.
Stardate 2365.02.08 (Monday)
USS Peregrine - Sickbay, Deck 4 - 1545
No one has bothered to ask his opinion of events that had just taken place in Sickbay a few hours earlier. Had they, Petty Officer 3rd Class Ryan Bachmann is confident that he would have been able to calibrate systems in such a way as to determine the actual reason for Chief Thorson's condition. Such short-sightedness on the part of the new Chief Medical Officer is an annoyance to the lab technician. He hadn't even been given the opportunity, and he is dead certain that the disregard shown his expertise is the reason the Peregrine is now en route sans the chief.
Normally on duty for Alpha, Petty Officer Bachmann has returned to Sickbay to prove his theory. Stepping through the doors, he acknowledges the staff on duty with barely anything more than a nod or a grunt before moving to the table that Chief Thorson had been on during his brief stay this morning. Approaching the wall conn, Ryan begins entering in the proper commands to call up the registered diagnostics recorded during the emergency procedures. Data streams begin to flow before him, the bottom right corner of the screen displaying an overhead view of the chief's inert body and the medical staff working over him in hurried, frenetic fashion.
Ryan syncs the PADD in his left hand and begins running his custom programs diagnosing various samples of the chief's bodily fluids, scans, and imagery. A few minutes pass, and Petty Officer Bachmann frowns at the anomalous reading his PADD spits back at him. Looking back to the viewscreen on the wall, the non-descript man's frown deepens. That smudge wasn't there before, was it? he wonders, noticing the blurred portion of the navigation menu on the screen. Filthy people, he grumbles mentally as he reaches up with his excessively dry right hand to wipe the screen clear. Dry your bloody hands, for crying out loud!
Shock and pain shoot through his arm into his shoulder and up into his neck the instant his skin makes contact with the blur. Forest green eyes wide as a nebula, Ryan gasps and goes completely rigid with his fingers glued to the conn for all intents and purposes. The electrical pulse through his appendage and neck feels like a thick mass of energy at the end of which hundreds of tiny tendrils wriggle about reaching up into his neck, jaw, and skull. The muscles in his cheeks begin to contract and he feels helpless as his eyes bulge from the sockets. And then, it's gone. The sensation retracts, sliding from his neck into his shoulder, down his arm, and out through his fingertips releasing the medical technician gasping and struggling to stand.
Sinking towards the table, head lowered with the heavy weight of exhaustion washing over him, Petty Officer Bachmann blindly fumbles with his communicator.
"Petty—" he chokes on his words his throat still thick. Swallowing, he tries again. "Petty Officer Bachmann to Security." Coughing, he awaits an answer, his knees weak and his colleagues finally taking notice and rushing to help him.
=/= Security here. =/=
"I need a security team to Sickbay, stat." Ryan hautily pushes the samaritan hands of the medical staff on duty away from him and forces himself to take a couple of shuffled steps away from the conn. "We have an unknown threat here."
=/= Could you say again, Petty Officer Bachmann? An unknown threat? =/=
"Just get a bloody security team down here!" Bachmann yells in response. Grabbing the uniform shoulder of the nurse closest to him, Ryan pulls the Vulcan away from the dangerous conn. "Don't go near that! It tried to kill me."
"That seems highly irregular—" Crewman Toriak begins to counter the petty officer's assessment, but is cut off by security's response.
=/= A security team is on the way, Petty Officer Bachmann. Is the threat still local, or does it have the potential to migrate? =/=
Ryan blinks. His mind is struggling to maintain clear thoughts. "Um, the threat is, I mean to say," Coughing again, Ryan looks in surprise at the blood in the palm of his right hand as he pulls it away from his mouth. "A threat," he finishes weakly.
"Lie down, Ryan," Toriak takes the weakened man by the shoulders and directs him to the same table Thorson was on, but panic fills Bachmann's entire being as his eyes fix on the conn.
"No! No!" he screams, struggling under the much stronger Vulcan's hold. "Not there! Not there!"
Though not understanding his colleague's irrational fear, Toriak helps the hysterical man away from that table to an adjacent table and forces him to lie back.
"Crewman Toriak to Chief Cook," the Vulcan taps his combadge and calls on the on-call command staff. "We have a situation in Sickbay. Please join us post haste."
Ryan's heart rate is increasing with his rising panic. He casts his eyes about the ceiling and then looks up over his right shoulder towards the conn he had been working. "It's in there," he whispers. "It was in there and tried to get in me, but it's back in there. It's in there,"
Stardate 2365.02.08 (Monday)
USS Peregrine - Security, Deck 5 - 1555
Crewman Apprentice Clint Myers shuts down the communication from sickbay and immediately connects with Lt. Berk. "Sir, there's been a reported security threat in Sickbay. A request has been made for a security team on site. Your orders?"
(OOC: Assuming something akin to, "Send them!")
"Aye, aye, sir," Clint pulls up the roster and activates the comm to the security team on duty. "Security Team Beta 2, report immediately to Sickbay. Repeat, Security Team Beta 2, report immediately to Sickbay. Potential security threat reported."
Posted on 2016-08-23 at 17:08:10.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty
Subject: Social Interaction? Sure! Why not?
Stardate 2365.02.08 (Monday)
USS Peregrine - Science Lab 1, Science Officer's Office, Deck 4 - 1538
"We're off duty, lieutenant," the XO smiles, cueing the door and stepping into the hallway, "feel free to leave ‘sir' in the lab or on the bridge. You can call us Tochi."
"Theoretically speaking, Tochi," Asovil attempts humor as they begin their stroll through the brightly lit hall. "One cannot leave a moniker anywhere. The very nature of the name and its association with the individual makes its presence constant, provided it is remembered, of course."
Her face visible only from the profile by the Trill, the science officer maintains a slight, playful smile while mentally wincing as her humor falls flat.
Lt. Zai offers a genuinely friendly and interested smile and says, "So, tell us a bit about yourself, Asovil,"
"That's a trick question," the Andorian plays with the thumbnails on both hands with the fingers of the same hand as she walks. "I'm not sure that a summary of a person's life is sufficient enough to really get to know them, so I feel deficient in that function.
"However," she breathes in deeply through her nose and glances up at him from beneath white lashes before returning her gaze to the sparse decoration and sleek lines of the corridor styling. "I suppose the best effort is all I can give, but as you've indicated that we're off duty, I'll demand similarly of you for each aspect of my life I share. Measure for measure."
(OOC: Assuming a positive and light answer.)
"I don't suppose I can get you to go first?" the woman playfully presses, continuing with the assumption that he wasn't going to bite. "You did ask first, so I guess it's only fair that I share before you.
"I've never wanted anything more than to be in the service of the Imperial Guard's Science Division. I wanted that with all of my being from my first memories until I joined as soon as I was old enough to be accepted. However, the Universe had other plans for me.
"How about you?"
(OOC: Tochi's scintillating answer pending,)
Deck 5; Observation Lounge - 1555
Lt. Sh'iraolnas stands just behind and to the right of Tochi Zai as the doors to the Observation Lounge slide open. Decorations are surprisingly plain. A few tables with bench and chair seating are scattered across the room placed strategically in front of the gaping windows revealing the immense span of space the Peregrine is traversing, but none of the interior accoutrements that the Equinox's Observation Lounge had been lovingly adorned with were present. Asovil's immediate impression is that the room is lonely; inviting, yes, but lonely nonetheless. Speculation that the crew has been unable to address this particular necessity of ship life occurs to her, but even with that thought flitting across the front of her mind, the Andorian woman can't help but wonder if this is a less-than-social ship. After all, the Equinox is filled with scientific minds, and they had found time and desire to decorate the Observation Lounge.
"Tochi!" a friendly human woman as tall as Asovil calls from across the room with a brilliant and welcoming smile. She spreads her arms apart in welcome as she steps out from behind the bar to meet them. Wearing the gold uniform associated with security or ops, she has curly brown hair done up in a bun on the back of her head. Broader in the shoulders and wider in the hips than the Andorian scientist, she is a striking figure. "G'evenin', luv!"
"Hello, Leah," Tochi warmly replies and from just behind him, Asovil can tell he's smiling that charming, friendly smile, "how are you?"
"Same as you, I'd expect," Leah winks, "been a bugger of a day on this boat."
"It certainly has," Tochi chuckles. Leah's eyes drift from the XO's handsome face to the slim, blue-skinned beauty by his side. "This is Asovil Sh'iraolnas," the Trill says by way of introduction.
"Our new Science Officer," Leah nods, extending a hand, "nice to put a face to the name! Leah Finnley. Welcome aboard the Peregrine, lass, and more importantly," she makes a grand gesture to indicate the lounge, "welcome to the Aerie!"
"The Aerie?" Tochi asks with an amused grin as Asovil accepts the extended hand.
"Eh, we're trying it on," Leah grins and returns her attention to him. "I've been on this ship nigh on a year, now, and no one's seen fit to name the place, yet, so, Do you think ‘Falcon's Roost' sounds better?"
What a flirt! Though Asovil maintains a smile, she immediately begins forming a cautious opinion of the woman. As the Trill and the human woman continue to play the age-old game, the Andorian watches with a calm smile on her full lips, noting each move that Leah makes to ingratiate herself with the XO as a spectator might note the plays made in a sport.
"Call it what you like," Tochi smiles but his tone is quickly recognized by the scientist at his side as somewhat disinterested. "We don't come here for the name; we come for the company and the food."
"Psh," Leah swats at him, her cheeks flushing pink. I wonder how long she's practiced that particular affectation. "Flatterer!" Leah tips her head to indicate the duffel bag slung from the XO's shoulder, then; "Coming from or going to?" she asks while deftly guiding Tochi and Asovil to a table beneath one of the lounge's large windows.
"Going to," Tochi replies. Lt. Sh'iraolnas takes in the bag for the first time with any interest. Long, not particularly voluminous, similar in texture to the gym bags we had at the Academy, Tochi must be planning on a workout after dinner. What a fantastic idea! A good sweat ought to alleviate some of the stresses of the day.
"Nothing heavy for you, then, I imagine," Leah nods, brushing a mote of dust that no one but her sees from the table. "Buckwheat and bananas?"
"We were thinking the chicken and rice, if it's still on the menu," the Trill laughs as he relegates his gear to an out of the way spot before taking a seat. "And a glass of ice-berry juice."
"Done," Leah nods and momentarily bites at her bottom lip while looking at the rugged Trill from beneath her lashes before turning to take Asovil's order. "And for you, luv?"
"After the day I've had, I was going to see if you've any Andorian Ale on hand," the science officer settles into her chair before gracing Leah Finnley with an innocent look. Asovil has noticed the stocked bar and is praying that her request can be fulfilled.
"Of course we do, deary," Leah reaches out and barely touches the top of Asovil's hand with her fingertips. "It really was a brute of a day, and I hear it was just by the skin of your teeth that you made it on board before we locked down!" Clicking her tongue with what the Andorian interpreted as mock pity, Petty Officer Finnley forces her lips into a pout before continuing. "Would there be any food with that, honey? Or are you on a diet?"
People calling out greetings to her dinner companion from across the room distract Asovil from the fact that Leah had hinted at her inglorious arrival. "Everyone is on a diet of one kind or another, Leerah," she says accidentally mistaking the woman's name and missing the meaning of her question, answering instead with the textbook explanation. "So, I'll have anything with protein so long as it is not the prime rib. I've heard that there's a problem with that dish."
Another crewman arrives drawing Asovil's curious gaze away from those about the room making various efforts to acknowledge the XO. The new arrival is another woman, Ardanan if Asovil remembers her xenobiology studies correctly. This one wearing a blue and black uniform that the Andorian immediately assumes places her in Medical seeing how she doesn't recognize the face, and she's spent the afternoon meeting with her staff. Red haired and curvaceous—A very sexual woman, how do the Terrans refer to her kind? A man beater? No, that's not right, but it's close. A man-eater. That's it. Asovil leans back in her chair and continues to order while analyzing Tochi's expression, his eyes locked onto the newcomer as she makes her way to the replicator.
"And I'd like a cherry jubilee to follow, if you don't mind." Something sweet is definitely going to hit the spot and the added sugar will help with her energy levels during her workout later. The practiced, kind smile that sits upon the Andorian's lips slowly spreads to a full-fledged smile showing white, even teeth. He's enjoying that one, she muses, continuing to watch her companion.
Asovil looks down at the table and bites her top lip to remove the amused smile she's wearing as Tochi releases a heavy sigh and tears his eyes away from the Ardanan. She can only imagine what was going on in his mind as he watched the nurse collect her dinner, but she is positive that whatever those thoughts are, they aren't to be discussed.
"Okay," Leah says with a bright clip to her tone apparently aware that the blue woman with white hair isn't going to play anymore. "Be right back with your orders." She flashes them both a smile that makes the Andorian mentally picture a Bel'cheenok—an Andorian hunting cat—eyeing its next meal.
"My, aren't you the looker, though," Leah beams at the copper-tressed nurse once she catches sight of her. "Welcome to the Aerie. I'm Leah. If there's anything I can do for you, you just let me know, lovely."
"Friendly to a fault, that one," Tochi grins, his gaze abandoning the interaction between Leah and the nurse and returning, again, to the Andorian woman seated across from him. "So, where were we?"
With a barely disguised smile on her face, eyebrows just slightly raised as she regards her dinner companion, Asovil responds with a question of her own, "The Peregrine has her own wait staff?"
(OOC: I await your conversation, sir.)
Posted on 2016-08-23 at 16:15:14.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: I'm excited to be gaming with you good people!
Asovil is ready to go to dinner.
Posted on 2016-08-22 at 09:25:27.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty
Subject: Hi ho, hi ho! I'ts off to dinner we go!
Stardate 2365.02.08 (Monday)
USS Peregrine - Science Lab 1, Science Officer's Office, Deck 4 - 1538
"We're thinking of taking dinner in the Obs Lounge if you'd care to join us."
Distracted by the various pieces of information the XO had revealed and Tochi's reluctance to take any kind of initiative on the circumstances surrounding Chief Crane, the pretty Andorian woman nearly missed the invitation to dine with her superior officer. The Trill is kind enough to wait for her to gather her thoughts; a long ten seconds before she blinks and gives her head an obscure shake as though repressing a shudder.
"Of course," she offers a tentative smile, realizing that she has kept the man waiting. "It would be my privilege, sir. I'll just let Ensign Maize know that we'll need to reschedule our meeting. It will take just a moment."
(OOC: Tochi's response if you so desire it,)
Allowing the ranking officer the option to exit her newly acquired office first, Asovil soon finds herself bathed in the gentle, pale light of Science Lab 1 once again. This time the large room is nearly void of sentient life forms with only Ensign Maize reviewing something on a computer screen across the room, her back to them, obviously engrossed.
Lieutenant Junior Grade Sh'iraolnas crosses to her subordinate and rather than startle her, softly clears her throat when she draws close. Despite the kind attempt to avoid abrupt disruption and discomfort in the Ensign, Dalia starts and looks over her shoulder with a wide-eyed, opened mouth stare.
"Oh!" she breathes, her shoulders relieving themselves of the tension that had been born there. Turning on the swivel chair she is perched on, Ensign Maize smiles sheepishly. "You startled me, sir."
"I had no intention of doing so, Mr. Maize," Asovil assures her. "I've been invited to dine with Lt. Zai, so our meeting will be postponed until tomorrow morning, first thing. Unless you have need of anything further, I'd say that Alpha has most certainly come to a close. You're free to retire."
Muscles about Dalia's eyes tighten for the briefest of moments. The Andorian might have missed the subtle change in expression had she not been looking for some sign of consternation. Ensign Maize has to of known about Lt. Tesenblen's improprieties and has more than likely been filled in on Asovil's line of questioning by the others who had already been questioned. Waiting for her turn on the other side of the desk is going to be nerve-wracking and will likely result in very little sleep.
"No, sir. I've nothing further," Dalia manages a humorless smile and places her left hand on the edge of the conn she had been working at to steady herself as she slides from the chair. A full four inches shorter than the Andorian, Ensign Maize nonetheless straightens to her full height and looks up into her superior's sea colored eyes with a mix of emotions that the science officer can't immediately decipher. "Thank you, and welcome again to the Peregrine, sir."
"Then, have a good evening, Mr. Maize." She hates me. Asovil returns to the roguishly handsome XO's side and pulls down on her uniform at the waist in order to resettle it more comfortably across her shoulders.
"Ready when you are, sir," she remarks with more levity than she feels. The weight of leadership is sometimes heavier than a neutron star. Experiencing what she has over the past few days, Asovil feels the gravity bearing down on her in ways she hasn't felt since the loss of her brother some years ago. Taking a deep breath through her nose and attempting to hide the strain she is feeling with a casual smile, Lt. Sh'iraolnas motions for the door. Dinner awaits with a man she only just met who also just happens to be her superior officer on board a new vessel rife with difficulties and the immediate position of staring down the barrel of a phaser for any under the targeted captain's command. I hope Andorian Ale is in the replicator's menu.
Posted on 2016-08-22 at 09:19:41.
Edited on 2016-08-22 at 09:24:28 by Bromern Sal
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Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject: Welcome to the QA, Aletheia!
I was all set to post this morning, but with only two of the players having made posts (thank you), I'm going to give it another day.
I look forward to seeing the others chime in!:-/
Posted on 2016-08-22 at 08:50:40.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: Thanks, Rob!
I appreciate you taking the time to compile that, clean it up, and then post it. And thank you to Olan for finding the transcript that I thought was lost to the Void.
Asovil isn't stupid. When a superior officer invites you to dinner, you go. So, she'll be there, postponing her final meeting until the next morning. I'll post as much later as I'm a bit engaged right now.
Posted on 2016-08-20 at 17:30:03.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: Thanks!
I find them useful, so I'm glad you do too.
Posted on 2016-08-19 at 16:18:26.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: For any who are interested...
I'm a geek, and as a geek, I've been developing my own game system. This is, of course, a free form game, but that's not to say that some of the character creation aspects can't help to flesh NPCs out. So, if you're interested, here's the link to that portion of my site: Character Traits.
If you don't use it, I won't feel bad, I promise. Just trying to help.
Posted on 2016-08-19 at 13:01:03.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty
Subject: Getting to the bottom of things...
Stardate 2365.02.08 (Monday)
USS Peregrine - Science Lab 1, Deck 4 - 1530
Chief Petty Officer Lauren Crane looks decidedly nervous, Asovil observes with some curiosity. The woman's record shows a specialty in genetics, but the Andorian science officer hasn't missed the degrees in botany, nor the second position assignments to many of Lt. Tesenblen's projects. While this alone will not condone automatic condemnation on the lieutenant's part, the nervousness certainly doesn't protect Chief Crane from suspicion.
Lauren Crane is a woman of small stature with brown hair cascading down in wavy curls below the line of her shoulders. She's fit and has an olive tint to her skin. It is obvious that she takes care of herself and while she stays within Starfleet regulation, she is definitely concerned with her appearance. Brown eyes show quick intelligence and the natural set of her full lips show a willingness for humor, though she tries her best to present a serious and sober front.
Seated across from a superior officer who has been assigned the position in volatile circumstances has no small impact on the demeanor of subordinate staff. Of this, Asovil is very aware, and she attempts to keep the circumstances in mind during the interview.
"Chief Crane," the Andorian uses the back of her hand to gently move the mug of Katheka to the left of her while purposefully focusing her attention on the PADD presenting Crane's personnel file held in her right hand. "I'm going to be straight with you. I believe that you'll appreciate the approach as your file shows that you're quite accomplished, and that only happens when one is focused on results.
"The arrest of Lt. Tesenblen has led me to believe that there are some improprieties within this department that I am determined to put an immediate end to."
Asovil looks up from the list of projects Lauren Crane is showing second position to Lt. Tesenblen on and meets the chief's wide eyed expression. "That being said, is there anything that you want to share with me?"
Lauren blinks three or four times and chews on the inside of her bottom lip while Lt. Sh'iraolnas waits patiently. Finally deciding on her course, Chief Crane shifts a little in her seat and states, "Lt. Tesenblen is a friend, sir, and a good person. The work that we did together is for the good of the Federation, but I do regret the means by which certain projects were undertaken."
"Very politic of you, Chief," the lieutenant acknowledges with a barely perceptible curl to her antennae. "In this statement, you've neither admitted to any wrongdoing on your part, or Lt. Tesenblen's, while at the same time avoiding condoning the acts that likely ended the Lieutenant's Starfleet career."
Asovil sets the PADD down and places her elbows on either side of it as she laces her fingers before her and intently leans forward, "If Starfleet had wanted to bring charges against you, Chief, I'm sure you would have been escorted off this ship along with your friend.
"Keep in mind that while Starfleet has chosen to overlook involvement from this department's staff in Tesenblen's unlawful actions, I do not."
"Yes, sir," Lauren's flesh takes on a considerable green tinge and her lips tighten.
"Now," Lt. Sh'iraolnas drops the volume of her voice. "Would you like to revise your statement?"
Chief Crane develops a discomfort and is forced to shift again in her chair. Tugging at the waist of her uniform, she straightens and breathes deeply in through her nose. "Lt. Tesenblen was my superior officer, sir. I did question some of his methods, but once he made up his mind, there was nothing to be done about it. So, I took the opportunities he gave to me and tried to make the best of them." Lauren pauses, her mouth open slightly as she ponders her next words. Twice, she closes, then opens her mouth again before finally continuing. "I couldn't get over the risks he was taking, sir. Every time I entered the Botany Lab and saw those specimens sitting there in containment, my thoughts kept turning to the possibility for horrible things that could happen. When our current mission was disclosed it occurred to me that something really bad could happen were the contents of the lab to be discovered and used by one side against the other, and then, well, then I heard that the ambassadors were bunking on the Peregrine and I knew—I just knew—that everything had escalated.
"I approached Lt. Tesenblen about my concerns, but he assured me that the specimens were under lock and key, and that there wasn't any threat to the ambassadors. He even went so far as to tell me that Captain Drake had authorized the experiments, and that he'd submitted a report to the captain detailing how he had secured the specimens. He was so confident, sir, but I couldn't shake the feeling. So, I submitted my concerns to Starbase Security.
"I didn't know they would react so harshly," Lauren hurries to explain, her face flushing with emotion and her brown eyes welling up with tears. "I thought they might just confiscate the specimen and that would be the end of things. I'm sorry for what happened to Lt. Tesenblen, but I still firmly believe that a threat to the success of the Peregrine's mission was nullified."
During the confession, the Andorian's antennae relax and her face softens. Before her sits a woman who is terrified that her actions have destroyed the life of a friend for the sake of protecting the mission's integrity. The lieutenant realizes that Lauren is likely filled with guilt and as the tears start to roll down the small woman's cheeks, she is struck by the conundrum facing her. On one hand, Chief Crane has acted in what she believed was the best interest of the ship and her mission. On the other hand, she has by-passed ship protocol which wound up with a member of the senior staff being surreptitiously removed from the ship. Captain Drake is clearly irate over the whole event, and it is also apparent that no one has yet discovered Lauren's message to the Starbase, or Asovil is positive the woman would be facing a dressing down by the furious captain and possible time in the brig for mutiny.
Casting her sapphire eyes about for some sign of an article by which Lauren could relieve her waterworks, the Andorian lieutenant comes up short. Ops has done a very good job of clearing out the office. Feeling an urge to offer some comfort, Asovil forces herself to maintain the countenance of an officer dealing with questionable behavior of a subordinate—no small task, at the onset.
"Chief Crane," she affects a crisp tone that condones no nonsense. "I appreciate your willingness to be open in the face of the apparent challenges you'll be experiencing over the next while. Doing so shows no small degree of bravery as, I might add, acting on the potential for a threat to the mission does. However, there's protocol, Mr. Crane, and you went outside of that protocol no less so that Lt. Tesenblen did to work on his projects. You have to know that there are going to be consequences."
Lauren nods and sniffs, wiping away the tears with the back of her right hand. She forces herself to look up and meet her commanding officer's compassionate gaze, "I'm prepared to take whatever consequences come my way, sir."
"I've no doubt," Asovil breathes and slowly unlaces her fingers to lean back in her chair. "For the time being, Chief, I'm going to confine you to your quarters. I'll discuss the situation with the captain and will let you know as soon as I have news.
"Do any of your projects need substitute supervision?"
"There are a couple, sir."
"Who would you suggest take on that duty in your absence, Chief?"
"Perhaps Crewman Scheuermann, sir?"
"Fine," the Andorian scientist breathes out slowly and places her hands on the edge of her desk to stand up indicating that the meeting is over. "I'll make sure that happens. Please provide me with the project names and make sure that those files are updated with the information Crewman Scheuermann will need to continue your work for the duration.
"Chief?"
"Yes, sir?" Lauren also stands and straightens her uniform. Sniffling, she does her best to wipe away any indication that she has been emotional which turns out to be an impossible task as her cheeks are ruddy and her nose and eyes are red from the cry.
"News travels fast on ships such as the Peregrine. I will only be talking to senior staff about your situation, and then, only those who need to know. I am not familiar with these individuals and cannot vouch for their discretion. I would hope that they will all be well aware of the damage leaking such information can cause, but just to be safe you need to make sure you honor the confinement. There are those who will likely view your actions as disloyal to Captain Drake and this ship. Be aware and take the appropriate precautions."
"Yes, sir."
As Lauren leaves her office, Asovil notes that she is carrying herself with the slumped shoulders and lowered head of a condemned criminal. The Andorian can imagine the worst case scenario taking place once she meets with Captain Drake and discloses the breach, so she can certainly understand the woman's demeanor. Lauren Crane is likely thinking that her career has been cut short just like Lt. Tesenblen's, and she has every reason to believe that she'll not see outside of her quarters, or the brig, for the remainder of the mission. Lt. Sh'iraolnas feels a certain sense of camaraderie with the chief. After all, isn't this assignment essentially a consequence of my own actions, justified though they may have been? she asks herself as she settles back into her chair.
"One more meeting," Asovil mutters and takes another sip of her cooled drink. She wonders briefly if Ensign Maize knew anything of Lauren's actions. As the Assistant Science Officer, Maize would have been privy to most of Tesenblen's actions. Perhaps Chief Crane wasn't going to be the only one receiving disciplinary action.
Posted on 2016-08-19 at 12:27:27.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: Science is as Science does...
The whole purpose behind these interviews Asovil is holding is to provide a solid foundation for the NPC's personalities. I update their profiles in Trek Tools for reference including personality types and key points that occur during the interviews. Feel free to engage with them at will!
I will be getting Asovil and the department members out to meet with others, and I may even prompt interaction in other departments by possessing some of those NPCs, because that's how I roll, yo.
Posted on 2016-08-19 at 10:16:19.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: I look forward to the interaction, Eol.
Ody, there's nothing inferior about you! Write away, you do have freedom with some of the NPCs in other departments if I understand the rules correctly. I love seeing your posts too, so write, brother!
Posted on 2016-08-18 at 19:24:18.
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Topic: Looking for players.
Subject: WOOT!
Welcome back!!!
Posted on 2016-08-18 at 15:43:34.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: Don't mind me...
I've added another interview. Just working my way through the Science Department. Don't mind me... 
Posted on 2016-08-18 at 13:50:32.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty
Subject: Time draws on...
Stardate 2365.02.08 (Monday)
USS Peregrine - Science Lab 1, Deck 4 - 1515
Discussions with Petty Officer First Class Steven Gaultier had opened with a brief introduction and since progressed into a candid interview. Gaultier is a man of average build and height with brown, regulation cut hair and a beard and mustaches, hazel eyes, and a weathered and worn face. Asovil is amused by his perpetual expression of weariness—even his actions, expressions, and movement is that of a man who is worn to his very soul. Even with these affectations, the corner of his mouth will twitch, or his hand with be afflicted by a small jump in the joint of his thumb, or his head will give a very slight jerk and he is constantly wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue.
During the introductions, the lieutenant touched on his academic achievements; his multiple masters degrees and his obvious penchant for biological studies. All such attempts at small talk have been met with direct and honest answers, but have also revealed more and more of his nervous tics.
"Tell me about your work with Lt. Tesenblen, Mr. Gaultier," Asovil brings the conversation around to the point at hand, following the question up with a sip from her cup. The bitter-tasting Andorian drink soothes her nerves (still slightly frayed from her interaction with Petty Officer Rogers) and gave her a much needed boost in energy.
"Starbase security asked me the same thing just a few hours ago, Lieutenant," Steven blinks blandly at her. "Wouldn't my response be in the records?"
"More than likely, Petty Officer," the Andorian replies easily and sets her mug back on the desk. "But I'd like to hear it from your mouth, if you don't mind. You know the saying, from the horse's ass,"
Petty Officer Gaultier's brow furrows and his tongue flicks out for a second before vanishing back into his mouth. "I don't think that's how the saying goes. I think you mean to say, from the horse's mouth."
"Yes, well," Asovil's antennae drop in embarrassment. "That is what I mean to say. I'd like to hear it straight from you."
"Of course," Steven allows his eyes to drift about as he continues with a sigh. "There were, of course, the occasional away missions that required my expertise. These have all been documented in my reports, and never was there anything I'd consider worthy of misconduct on Lt. Tesenblen's part.
"On the ship, he would review my reports with me and keep updated on the progress I'd make, but his work and mine only crossed when we would compare previously undocumented life forms and plants. During these circumstances, he was always professional and carried himself with the utmost respect for the uniform."
"In other words," Asovil wraps up the man's boring report. "You've nothing but respect for him?"
"Well, for the most part."
"What about the other, uh, parts?"
"I've been uncomfortable with some of the experiments he was prone to undertake. My reason for steering clear of the botany lab, really." Petty Officer Gaultier twists his head to relieve tension in the neck. "And the way he would by-pass Starfleet regulations—I mean, he made sure that the experiments were contained, but the way he went about things always set me on edge. Nice guy and all, but we can't expect Captain Drake to fully understand the ramifications of every project in the department. That's why the senior science officer is supposed to maintain—well, you know. Here I am telling you what your job entails."
"Not at all a problem, Petty Officer. Do you know if any of the others in the department feel the same way you do?" Asovil presses.
"There's talk on occasion, sure." Steven slumps in his chair and places a hand on each knee, studying them as though they don't belong there. "I mean, even Ensign Maize has voiced concern on a couple of occasions."
"To Lt. Tesenblen?"
"Yup. I overheard at least one conversation like that, anyway."
"But, surely, Lt. Tesenblen had the support of the department?"
"Well, sure," the Petty Officer raises his eyebrows non-committedly. "He's the ranking officer. A department can't really function if the rank and file don't fall in when told to, right?"
"What of Tesenblen's recent projects? Are you familiar with what was going on just before he was removed from the Peregrine?"
"Ensign Maize had let me know that there was another project I'd want to avoid in Botany," the man's eyes returned to a lazy scan of the room. "Something involving wolves bane, or something like that. Rare plants were kinda the Lieutenant's catnip."
"This wolves bane," Asovil leans forward. "It was mentioned by Captain Drake. Can you tell me more about it and the experiment involving it?"
"Nope. Don't know much about it, personally. Ensign Maize might." Steven offered a miniscule shrug. "All I know is that the herb is used in various Terran literature from the early centuries on. You know? Classics?"
"In what way?"
"Well, Shakespeare wrote it into his plays as poison used by the villains if I remember correctly. Again, not really my thing, but if Lt. Tesenblen had it on board the Peregrine, that could've been the final straw." Petty Officer Gaultier's tongue appeared again and then retreated. "But then, this is all speculation, Lieutenant. I wouldn't take any of it as gospel."
"Gospel?"
"Religion," Steven motioned a hand loosely into the air. "Law, ultimate truth, the end all be all?"
"Right. And, your current projects, are they in order?"
"Yup. You can access my latest reports complete with Lt. Tesenblen's comments any time you'd like, sir."
"Fantastic." Lt. Sh'iraolnas settles back into her chair and lifts her drink once more, pausing just long enough to ask, "Is there anything about this department, or ship, that you think I should know, Petty Officer Gaultier?"
Steven sits quietly and looks to the ceiling for answers. His consideration of the question is thorough and his answer is straight, "Rumor has it that someone's out to get Captain Drake. Like, not physically, but politically. The crew is pretty much on edge due to the recent changes in senior personnel and I hear tell that the Coronado's captain doesn't care much for ours. So, that's adding to the rumor mill. Don't know why someone would want to have at Captain Drake; the man's been nothing but a good captain near as I can tell. Of course, everyone has a past, but I thought that you'd likely want to know about that seeing how you're senior staff and all.
"Oh, and Chief Rogers is a little odd. I get a really creepy feeling around that guy. Can't offer any legitimate proof of wrongdoing, but I'd keep my eye on him if I were you.
"And don't ever order the prime ribs from the replicator. The program's off and it tastes like something we jettison into space.
"Aside from that, welcome to the Peregrine, Lt. Sh'iraolnas. It'll be nice having a different point of view in this department. We're entirely too Terran, if you ask me."
Antennae standing straight up, Asovil smiles pleasantly at the weary petty officer. "Thank you," she says. "I appreciate your openness, Petty Officer Gaultier. I'll certainly take heed of your suggestions."
As Petty Officer 1st Class Gaultier takes his leave, Asovil sips at her Katheka and considers the information she has just been fed. She isn't sure that she likes the prospects of a ship under a captain that has a target on his back. The concept causes the gloom that had built up after receiving this assignment to bloom again. An escort vessel with dignitaries on board—that alone bears recognition. Shouldn't the ambassadors be on the Coronado ? Glancing at the time displayed on the PADD, Lt. Sh'iraolnas finds irritation and offense being added to the swirling cloud of gloom. I'd really like an explanation of the mission and what's going on aboard this ship, she growls internally. Captain Drake, you may have had your hands full leaving the starbase, but that's no reason to completely ignore the arrival of new senior staff. The Andorian feels anger start to build as well, and sips the hot liquid to temper it. He has had a full day, she muses. His reaction upon seeing me on the bridge wasn't exactly inviting, but how can I be effective in this role without knowing what's going on?
The thoughts carry her into her next meeting, unanswered and not at all unwarranted.
Posted on 2016-08-18 at 13:49:10.
Edited on 2016-08-18 at 13:49:33 by Bromern Sal
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Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject: We've transitioned.
Hammer, Vesper, and Tann... you folks are in a drive-by situation. That means you essentially have one combat phase to react before the car is out of direct line of fire. There are cars parked along the street and cars moving both ways in traffic.
Giddy, Ayrn, Altheia, and Keeper, you folks are out of combat and now running the tunnels blindly. Before proceeding to continue the story, I've given you pause long enough to determine additional planning.
Good luck!
Posted on 2016-08-18 at 11:43:37.
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Topic: Flesh & Blood - A Night City Adventure
Subject: End of One Combat Scenario... beginning of another?
Outside The Rat Pack Night Club | Night City Integrate | Midcity | UrbanZone - Day 2 (Saturday), 1:38 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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"Vegas," Casino leans in to be heard better over the music. "We been friends and partners a long time so please just text her and see if she can meet us out back. If not, then yeah, we go out the front, agreed?"
"These boosters are cowards," The techie offers as he rises from the table as well, handing the large gunman the submachine gun he'd been babysitting with the handle and trigger pointing away from the solo's body so as not to incite the security into thinking something was going down. "They think they have safety in numbers. We just go out toting bigger heat and they could bow down. Or, we could get into a fight where you may have to use the grenades you just done paid for."
Fixer receives a sour look from the blonde man for his opinion. "You might be right but it's not part of our job right now to create a firefight in the middle of the street. Starlight said ‘discreet.' What's less discreet than a firefight? On top of that I do not—do not—want to get on Campbell's bad side and lose this place as a meeting site and place to relax."
"Casino My Friend," the Frank Sinatra look-alike speaks directly and to the point, placing a hand on his partner's shoulder to draw his attention away from the well-meaning technician. "If I text Starlight to meet us in some back alley instead of out front where she is expecting us to meet her, to pick up your grenades and the taser, then our names will probably be black listed among all of her contacts! Then where would we be?
"I am going out that front door," the well-dressed solo points to the correct area. "Whether you come with me or not, because Starlight will have her own muscle with her! Just like Fixer here says, those boosters are cowards! I am not selling my soul to Campbell to sneak out the back way! And the Rat Pack will still be here for us to use as a meeting place in the future."
Vegas tips his fedora to his long-time partner, then gives a 'Thumbs Up' to Fixer, before slowly sauntering his way out the front door to meet Starlight and gather the goods! With a resigned shake of his buzzed head, Casino accepts his submachine gun and unclips the sling to loop it over his shoulder, under his armored trenchcoat and at the ready as he reluctantly follows behind Vegas. Having already stated his opinion, Fixer falls in next to his put out companion while mentally readying himself for what could possibly be a dangerous situation.
Midcity receives rain in much greater quantities and in a much more natural form than the lower regions, and it is pouring as the three step out the door past the doorman. Lightning flashes overhead like an ominous announcement of their arrival. Casino mentally activates his NuCybe visor just in time to have the anti-dazzle subroutine catch the flare and diminish its impact on his eyes. The wireless smartgun link immediately sets the targeting in operation the second his hand settles on the grip of his submachine gun, dancing about and highlighting each potential target in front of him.
Vegas isn't stupid, and walking into the wet night without being prepared is not a habit of his. Optic Splice activated, the smooth visor is covering his eyes as well just as he exits the Rat Pack. His anti-dazzle also protects his eyes from the flash of lightning and his targeting begins to quickly assess possible threats, but his mind is set on locating the small, pretty fixer with their gear more than any of the boosters. He's fully confident that Casino has that end covered.
Fixer's cybernetics loadout doesn't include the anti-dazzle as it is geared much more for the work he enjoys (which isn't wetwork), however, he is a keen eye and is naturally attentive. This is the skill he's relying on as his smartgun technology responds to his touch.
Blacktop wet with torrential downpour reflects the lights of the city like a portal to a mirrored world. Sounds of aerodyne vehicles drone overhead mixing with the splash of wheeled ground vehicles cutting through the puddles. Night City does not sleep and the street is as busy as ever making the task of assessing threats for the three edgerunners difficult at best. Starlight, on the other hand, stands out in the night with her white and purple clothing, Techhair®, and good looks.
She is waiting on the stoop of the building just to the left. An art deco facade for the first three levels above the street, this building is an office building that's closed down for the night. The lighted points of her Techhair® vibrant through the rain, she motions the men towards her with an exaggerated nod of her head.
Surprisingly, she is alone. No muscle. No added guns. The three approach and she looks about before reaching into her slick coat pockets with both hands and producing the items they have purchased one by one.
"There you go, choombas," Starlight grins. "Now, how's the gig playing out?"
Fixer's attentiveness pays off. He's not really interested in the grenades or taser, that's the solo's fixation. Eyes peeled, he notices a lowrider groundcar with a rippin' mural of some Catholic Saint on the hood and a glossy black paint job slow to a crawl just before reaching their position. The back window on the driver's side—the side facing the group of you—scrolls downward and the barrel of a weapon is seen. The boosters have made their play.
(OOC: Assuming some kind of warning being called out by Fixer,)
Automatic gunfire disrupts the casual sounds of the stormy night with a roar. The group scatters, hitting the ground, ducking and rolling, doing whatever you can to avoid being turned into a holy mess. Casino's response is to go to his knees while spinning and tearing his submachine gun free from the cover of his trenchcoat, his targeting software immediately illuminating the car and moving to focus in on his desired victim in response. Vegas' reaction is to duck and perform a slick softshoe slide while retrieving his Mark II. Fixer's position is more open to begin with and as he dives for the ground he feels the impact of rounds into his left leg. Pain shoots up from his thigh and into his hip while at the same time driving downward into his knee and calf. The impact of the rounds is enough to jerk him sideways a bit and he rolls onto his back as he strikes concrete.
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The Train | Night City Integrate | Midcity into High City | UrbanZone - Day 2 (Saturday), 1:28 AM PST | Combat Phase 6
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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"How much do we know of these tunnels?" Echo intones a bit quickly due to the pressure on them. "Do we have a map, or can we pull one up quickly? I'd prefer to avoid any other security folks, if possible. No need to take any other lives if we don't have to, or call more attention to ourselves in the process."
From behind his battlemask, the medtech joins the conversation, "I don't have a map," he replies, quickly looking over his shoulder at the nomad and the chaos ensuing behind her. "But I'm decently confident that our brilliant netrunner will be able to find one for us."
Blossom doesn't respond, focused as she is on determining the security system's defenses.
"That construct just bit it," Ghlahn calls over his shoulder. "Now would be good time to get that door open. I'll give you as much time as I can but sooner or later someone is going to die out here. Just hope it isn't us."
"Do your thing, Chika," Echo says to the netrunner. "And we'll watch your six."
The door before them is a solid firedoor of metal construct, dented and scratched from the many times over the years that the trains have kicked debris from the tracks up. The handle is a metal L-shaped grip, dirty and scarred as well. There's no seeing through to the other side, and there's no breaking it down. There's nothing to do but wait on Blossom to work her magic.
Bloodbank draws his handgun, "How long?"
The insertion team is currently not returning fire. Time is of the essence, however, and they are relying on the bubbly little wardriver to be their salvation as the surviving members of the sec-team begin to advance patterning the wall and ceiling of the train tunnel with pockmarks from hot lead. Rounds whistle by singing a death ballad, but nothing has found purchase yet.
The datagate is by-passed with ease and Blossom finds herself navigating the commands for the lock with ease. Not even a full second after she has jacked in, the pretty little wardriver has unlocked the door. Quickly retrieving her interface cable from the port, Blossom grabs the handle and swings the door open, slipping inside and surveying her new surroundings.
The maintenance tunnel that opens up before her is approximately ten feet tall and fifteen feet wide. The floor is cement, pocmarked and stained, while the walls are a mix of brick and cement the closer to the ceiling it gets. Wire casing tubes run along the ceiling in a mass of synthetic veins, one leading to the occasional single bare lightbulb jutting out of the ceiling like a bare nipple. The tunnel progresses for thirty, or so, meters before splitting at a T.
(OOC: interaction inserted here, as you've only one way to go, I'll continue.)
The door closed and secured behind the group, everyone runs down the blind tunnel with no map or guidance. The T intersection provides you with your first option, and left seems the logical choice seeing how the platform would be to the right. A few more turns and a some distance between the door and the insertion team's current position affords you with the option to give pause if you so desire.
Posted on 2016-08-18 at 11:40:55.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: Glad you're enjoying the science behind the Science Department...
I've been enjoying the read as well! Excellent posts, everyone!
I am happy to move things forward. I can back-post a continuation of Asovil's interviews and department findings.
Posted on 2016-08-17 at 15:16:54.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty
Subject: Getting the Dirt...
Stardate 2365.02.08 (Monday)
USS Peregrine - Science Lab 1, Deck 4 - 1500
Taking a few minutes to recover from her last meeting allows Asovil to collect herself and prep for the next. Reviewing the personnel file for Petty Officer Second Class Kelsie Anne Prudnikov forces the disastrous encounter with Petty Officer Third Class Rogers back to a darker recess of her very active mind. She will continue to consider how best to work with the insufferable man, but in the meantime, she still has the rest of the department to meet and review. The issue of Lt. Tesenblen's illegal behavior (even with Captain Drake's foreknowledge) deeply bothers the new science officer. Science is a regulated and highly structured vocation that requires following rules for safety and purposes of validation, credence within the scientific community, and sanction by the Federation of Planets. That Lt. Tesenblen stepped outside of these boundaries makes him a danger to all that are in proximity.
Andorians have a work of fiction called Pleth'ri Olak Progna, which translates to Monsters Within Oneself. Asovil had first discovered a worn copy of the manuscript within the Illustrious Library at the Academy for Arts and Sciences when she was a First Year. She had devoured the story of an Andorian scientist—a biologist named Kyn Th'raqel—who had deemed his work so important to the scientific community that he had ignored the regulations imposed by the Imperial Sciences Division. His experiments had been with regenerative properties of the Andorian creature called the Pikt'orthic (translated to something akin to an ice toad) and the integration of DNA into Andorian subjects. Beautifully illustrated with poetic words, Pleth'ri Olak Progna captivated the young Andorian woman as it unfolded, first revealing the motivation of the protagonist (for that is truly how Dr. Kyn Th'raqel is portrayed within the book) as the loss of one child to a degenerative disease and the discovery that his other child and his wife both suffered from the same disease; then describing his singular focus on the creation of a cure that not only distances him from his family, but encompasses his every thought. At the crecendo, the good scientist has become so enthralled with the possibility of a cure using the regenerative DNA and his unproven theory that when he receives a censorship from the Imperial Science Division he determines to conduct his experiments in secret. Ultimately, he needs a test subject, and unwilling to risk his wife and child, he infects himself with the disease, waits for the incubation period to transpire and symptoms to show, and then injects himself with the theorized cure. The results are a hybrid version of the disease that is unkillable due to the regenerative cells introduced from the Pikt'orthic into the syrum. Within the tale, the population of the entire planet is wiped out by the disease within the year, leaving a wasteland memory of the Andorian people to be discovered by a returning merchant starship that then carries the disease to other planets where it mutates to claim those populations. Pleth'ri Olak Progna is a harrowing tale and a constant reminder to Asovil that the rules and regulations are in place for a reason.
Shaking herself from the memory and its association with Lt. Tesenblen's decisions, not to mention Captain Drake's allowance of such experiments on board the Peregrine, the Andorian scientist makes her way across the office to the replictor.
"Computer," she intones. "Katheka, seventy-one point one degrees celsius."
As the machine works to comply, Asovil returns to the file on the PADD. Petty Officer Second Class Prudnikov is an Earth-born human—So far, the department seems highly Terran-sided.—with a Masters in Geoscience and a Doctorate in Earth and Planetary Sciences. Her contributions are noted in many publications... fifteen to be exact, and she has served as a consultant on three Federation mining projects that all turned brilliant results. Out of all of the members of her department, the lieutenant has been most impressed by Mr. Prudnikov.
=/= Beep =/=
"Come." The command to enter issued, Asovil gently takes up the replicated blue ceramic mug containing her hot beverage and makes her way back to the desk.
"Petty Officer Second Class Prudnikov, sir," Kelsie informs her superior officer as she enters.
Lt. Sh'iroalnas looks up from where she's placed the steaming cup of dark brown liquid and is met by a woman easily as tall as she is with shoulder-length blond hair swept back over her ears. She's a strong-looking woman with a warrior's build, and yet still feminine in her blue and black uniform. Her eyes are a mix of blue and green depending on the way the light touches them. Her features are angular and somewhat sharp, but that only enhances the intelligent appearance she carries herself with. Her pale complexion and light freckling plays with the image of mature authority but doesn't diminish it in any way.
"Please," Asovil motions to one of the two chairs and then sits herself comfortably behind the desk. "Thank you for extending your shift to meet with me."
"Thank you for inviting me," Kelsie's easy response invites a small feeling of relief to emerge in the Andorian. This did not appear to be another Mr. Roger's encounter.
"I don't want to take too much of your time, Mr. Prudnikov. I would, however, like to get to know you a little while learning more about your history in this department."
Chief Prudnikov smiles, revealing perfect white teeth and a friendly appearance. "I'd imagine you're also curious as to my involvement with Lt. Tesenblen's experiments."
"I am, as a matter-of-fact," Asovil raises her eyebrows and returns the smile.
"It only makes sense." Kelsie leans forward and gently touches the desk with three fingers on her right hand. Asovil notices that the woman's nails are manicured, but cut short enough so as not to invite a break while she's working in the dirt. "I can assure you that my involvement was limited to nothing more than consulting on prime soil conditioning for certain plant types. It was a joint effort really. Chief Rogers would work with Lt. Tesenblen on the chemical composition of fertilizer and potential growth stimulants while I'd provide the data on prime soil particulates and compounds to enrich the dirt. The details as to what plants Lt. Tesenblen was working with, or the specifics behind his personal experiments, weren't something I was privy to. I figured he was jealous of his privacy and worked within the parameters he provided. That work, by the way, was a very small part of my overall assignments. I'd give it less than one percent, if pressed for a number."
Lt. Sh'iraolnas gives Chief Prudnikov an appreciative nod, her antennae reaching forward. "Very forthcoming, Chief."
"What can I say?" Kelsie's accompanying laugh was very close to a cackle. "I was as surprised as anyone when Dalia—oh, sorry—Ensign Maize, told me about Lt. Tesenblen's arrest."
"Are you aware that the botany lab has been cleaned out?"
The chief shrugs, "Wouldn't expect anything else, under the circumstances. Don't get me wrong, Lt. Tesenblen is a nice fella, but when Starfleet comes knocking down your door one can only assume that you've done something pretty heinous. I'd be shocked to find any indication that Tesenblen worked within these labs not completely confiscated, and if Security hadn't done so; well, frankly, I'd be disappointed in them."
"Do you still have any of the records on the work you did for him?"
"You know? I haven't checked," Kelsie settled back in her seat and crossed her legs at the knee. "I'll let you know as soon as I can, though, sir."
"Thank you, Chief." Asovil has decided that she likes this woman. "One last question. Has Lt. Tesenblen's arrest caused you any duress in your experiments?"
"I don't believe so, Lieutenant," Chief Prudnikov shrugs a little. "He was pretty hands-off when it came to my work. My current focus is working with a small team of geologists and botanists who are planetside on a small moon near the Neutral Zone. If I need anything, I'll be sure to pipe up."
"Then I'll look forward to your reports, Chief. Thank you again for your time."
Posted on 2016-08-17 at 15:04:52.
Edited on 2016-08-17 at 15:12:46 by Bromern Sal
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