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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty
Subject: Oh, my stars (and her garters?)!
Stardate 2365.02.08
USS Peregrine; Deck 5; Observation Lounge, "The Aerie," Tochi and Asovil's table - 1611
When, some forty-five minutes ago, Lt Zai had stepped into the newly appointed CSO's office, his intent had been to offer Lt Sh'iraolnas a more fitting ‘Welcome Aboard' than she had received upon taking her post (and, of course, to apologize for the frenzied and indecorous manner in which it had happened). Since Silas' had returned to his ready room once the ambassadors left the bridge, and Tochi hadn't seen him emerge before the shift was finished, the Trill naturally assumed that the justifiably fuming Captain was still wrapped up in dealing with the recent turmoil and, had yet to officially welcome the Andorian scientist. To that end, he felt, it was only his duty as XO to, at the very least, play the middle-man, as it were.
In all truth, when he had first set his mind to it, Tochi hadn't expected the entire encounter to have lasted more than a few minutes. He would deliver a more proper greeting than she had initially been afforded, offer his mea culpa for the less than dignified manner in which she had been forced to board, and explain to her that, while Silas was very busy, Tochi was certain that the Captain would be calling on her soon. Of course, he had planned on extending the dinner invitation, as well, such a thing was only polite, after all, but he had fully expected her to politely decline. Not once, in the span of minutes leading up to his entering her office, did he imagine that he would have spent the better part of an hour in her company, nor did any part of him imagine that their conversation would have taken the course that it had in that time. The welcome and the apology had gone as he had expected and, also as he had anticipated, Lt Sh'iraolnas had raised some questions and some concerns in regards to her transfer. That purely professional discussion, though, had led them into topics of conversation that, Tochi felt, were best left for the Captain to address and, as such, he had diplomatically diverted the dialogue.
So it was that the Peregrine's XO and her newly posted CSO had come to share dinner at ‘The Aerie.' As it evolved, their conversation, surprisingly enough, turned easily from the innocuous sort natter common among shipmates who had just been introduced to more personal and, in some broad sense, intimate topics and, in so doing, had found quite a bit of common ground. She had even expressed an exhuberant interest in, possibly, taking up a foil and learning to fence, at some point,
Between myself, Ensign Thomason, and, now, Asovil, he had thought, we might just get a fencing club started on this ship.
,The bit of their tête-à -tête that had quite possibly surprised him the most, though, was when the young Andorian had actually inquired as to his joining. There had been only a handful of people with whom he had served over the years that had bothered to even broach the subject (outside of medical necessity), but Asovil had approached the topic with unabashed curiosity. It had been a refreshing change from the norm and, as a result, Tochi found himself reliving and relating more details of his coming to host Zai than he had in several years.
",From there," he said, flicking a playful wink and, at last, taking up his cutlery, as he came to the end of that particular tale, "We just get into the tedium of my career. You likely don't want to hear any of that. Besides," he added following a bite of the dinner that had slowly disappeared from his plate as they had chatted, "We believe it's your turn."
A smile lit up Asovil's face, then, and she shook her head in wonderment, "How, in all the Universe, can I top a story such as that, Tochi? My life story pales in comparison. I believe the the only thing I could have done with my life that would have been more pale by comparison is to have joined the Pa'lek Tov and been a monk my whole life."
"Somehow, we find that hard to believe," he chuckled, reaching for his glass. "Every life story, in some way or another, is a light in the dark of the void, Asovil," He tipped the glass to his lips, draining the remains of the beverage and, returning the glass to the table, offered a wry grin. "Trust us; we've got five," he winked. "We know beyond a certainty that yours shines as brightly as any."
The Andorian woman dropped back against the rest of her chair, then, her fork still jutting up from the unfinished bit of her chicken, her turquoise eyes slightly hooded as she gazed at him from across the table, the hint of a smile on her full lips. "That," she said after a moment, absently chewing on her bottom lip, "is pure unproven theory, Tochi. For all you know I am a drab, boring scientist. However, for the sake of continued conversation, I will share with you an experience of mine from the Imperial Academy.,"
"For all we know, you are a scientist, yes," the Trill, settling back, himself, retorted with a grin, "We've eliminated drab and boring."
"I was nineteen cycles by the time I made the decision to leave further scientific pursuits through the School of Science and Arts," she began, "To be accepted into the Imperial Academy, and to eventually serve in the Imperial Guard, that's an honor for the recipient and the recipient's family. One would expect such a duty to fall on the eldest child, but my brothers had no such desire. So, it was left up to me."
Tochi arched a brow at that. From all he knew of Andorian culture, it was a little unusual that neither of her brothers had opted for the path she chose. He didn't inquire about it, though. Rather, he nodded and allowed her to continue her tale uninterrupted.
"I wasn't there for more than a month before I received my first dressing down. I've since come to appreciate just how impactful it was in my career, but at the time, I was mortified.
Zero four-thirty and I've just woken up to prepare for the day when the barrack doors burst open. It's a raid—another ship ransacks your ship and attempts to take the Regalust, which is a trophy made of crystal representing the actual starship your training ship is named after," she explained. "These cadets are flowing into the dark quarters like water through a cracked ice dam and skirmishes are breaking out all over.
I am a modest sort," there was an undeniable tinge of self-consciousness in the expression when she smiled and offered a disheartened shake of her head. "So, I struggle to get my jumpsuit on and am knocked unconscious while focusing on getting my feet into the leggings. I wake up with my Master Chief standing over me, furious. He hauls me to my feet—mind you, I still had my jumpsuit around my ankles—and yells at me, telling me I was dead."
Tochi's brows lifted, then, and his eyes widened as she related that. So that's where modesty plays into the whole thing, he thought, unable to keep an amused, yet somehow still sympathetic grin, from playing on his lips as he imagined the scene playing out.
Asovil adopted a mock gravel-filled voice to perform an entertaining impersonation of her Master Chief; "You're dead, Crewman First Class Sh'iraolnas, and for what? Your vanity? You're dead, your shipmates are dead, and you have your pants around your ankles to show for it!"
The visualization of the events she was describing, along with the impression she had just peppered into it made it nearly impossible for Tochi not to laugh. He tried to suppress it as best he could but wasn't quite able to keep from his grin broadening all the more and a snort of a chuckle to escape his lips. "Oh no,"
Looking up from beneath her long lashes, the increasingly endearing CSO quickly added, "Don't get the wrong idea! My underclothing wasn't immodest in and of itself—Imperial Guard Issue, I assure you. Still, the thought of my underclothing being revealed was, at the time, very embarrassing. I was a young girl, mind you."
"We have no doubt," Tochi beamed with a mix of mirth and empathy, "We're sure it was horrifying and don't mean to laugh but,"
,but we're trying not to imagine you in your underclothes,
",Sorry," the Trill said, leaning forward to rest his elbow on the table and cover his mouth with one hand as the other tried to wave away the humor he was finding in the story. "Please, go on."
"In any case," Asovil continued demurely after another moment spent chewing on a lip, "I spent the next forty-eight hours performing every task with my jumpsuit around my ankles wearing that tank top and those shorts until our ship was able to successfully perform a raid that returned the Regalust to its rightful place above the Chief's door."
Tochi was slowly shaking his head as the Andorian, her antennae shrinking backward a bit in embarrassment, dropped her fork on the edge of her plate and reached for her ale. His hand still covered the lower portion of his face, but the sparkle in his eyes betrayed the grin masked behind it.
"Not my finest moment," she admitted before taking a sip. "Funny though. That story has allowed me to break the ice with every Starfleet bunkmate I've had."
"We can't imagine why," Tochi snickered, the hand masking his grin falling away from his face to clasp with the other that rested on the table before him. "That, Asovil, has got to be one of the better tales that we've heard in quite some time, and you said you couldn't top ours," Still chuckling softly, Zai leaned back in his own seat again, eyes twinkling; "We think, in exchange for that one, we'll have to share some of Dirven's stories."
Leah chose that moment to return to the table, her smile bright and friendly as her eyes danced between the Trill and the Andorian. "Still doing all right, over here, luvs," she asked, nodding towards the XO's empty glass, "Another one for you, Tochi?"
"Please," Tochi nodded, reaching out to slide the glass to within easy reach. He gestured at the remains of his meal, then; "We're finished with this, also. It was delicious, as always. Thank you."
"Well, of course it was," Leah chirped as she gathered up his plate in one hand and his glass in the other, "it's my recipe, then, innit?"
"It is at that," Tochi nodded, his eyes turning back to his dinner companion, then. "Anything else for you, Lieutenant," he asked,
((OOC: And, tag! As usual, interjections, continuations, interruptions (*cough*OLAN*cough*) are always welcome,
,and, it looks like I may be skittering back to Medical and/or Engineering.  ))
Posted on 2016-08-30 at 14:49:26.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty
Subject: Your blinker fluid is low. We'll need to keep it for a few hours.
Stardate 2365.02.08
USS Peregrine; Sickbay, Deck 4 - 1605-1710
While Crewman Adler tended to his diagnostics, Chief Cook nodded to Yeoman Toriak, "Thank you for your assistance Yeoman." As the Vulcan left, the Chief went back to PO Adama and though she kept her voice down, the security and the Engineering Crewman could catch an occasional word or two. "Inexcusable ,. disgrace , unacceptable," among others.
Wow, the computer specialist thought, trying very hard not to so much as glance in the direction of Cook and Adama lest he get dressed down, as well, What a hard-ass, Mr-Look-at-me-I'm-smarter-than-everybody-on-the-boat gets a little tingly and poor Pete takes the heat because he wasn't here to witness it? He shook his head faintly as he went about his work, trying, now, not to meet Chief Cook's eyes as she passed by on her way to her desk. I hope we never get a drill instructor in Engineering,
Lincoln had gotten the necessary access panels pulled from the med-station and, as he had done moments ago with the exterior of the unit, he gave the interior workings a thorough, eyes-only, once-over before even thinking about putting his hands inside. Following the visual inspection, of course, there was a quick level 5 scan with the tricorder, and, only when that revealed nothing of immediate concern did the young crewman reach inside to begin disconnecting the station's processor from the Sickbay's sub-node. With those ODN lines pulled, he shunted them through the Reserve Control Generator, bypassing the Secondary Frequency Sequencer, and, in a few minutes, had the entire unit isolated from Peregrine's network, running in stand-alone mode.
"All right," he murmured to himself, cueing up his tri-corder, again, to initiate yet another level 5 on the sequestered station, "what've we got now?"
The tricorder beeped, whistled, and pinged as he guided it through the internal workings of the station, but, again, the scan didn't expose anything requiring immediate attention, let alone reveal any evidence of an EM discharge. There was a somewhat strange reading from the unit's Emergency Molecular Confinement Regulator - a brief overspike from the multiplexer that was gone as quickly as it registered. "Hmm," Lincoln mumbled, re-scanning the EMCR, the Negative Molecular Containment Multiplexer, and the connections between them, once more, "Yeah, That was kind of weird. Don't remember seeing that, yesterday."
The re-scan returned another report that omitted the previously registered overspike, yet, still, indicated higher than normal processing loops. "Yeah, okay," he nodded, flagging those modules for a more invasive inspection once he powered the unit down entirely, "those might need to be refurbished or replaced, Shouldn't have produced a shock, though, should it? Yeah, no,"
It took him another forty-five minutes to complete his scans of the med-station's internal components, and, aside from a few minor oddities (that should have shown up when he'd run his diagnostics yesterday), Lincoln could find nothing so off that Bachmann should have gotten anything but some minorly skewed bio-readings and, maybe, a brighter display output from the console. He sighed, rubbing thoughtfully at his jaw while he blinked in puzzlement at the station's internals. Then, after a moment of mumbling contemplation, he tapped his commbadge; "Adler to Engineering."
=/=Engineering,=/= Lt Sa'eridon answered, =/=What have you got, Lincoln?=/=
"Nothing too out of the ordinary, el-tee," Lincoln responded, getting to his feet, "a couple of odd readings, but nothing that indicates there was any sort of surge or short through the unit. I think it's going to need the EMCR and NMCM pulled and maybe replaced, there's a transition dampener that's running about two degrees hotter than it should, other than that, this thing is only slightly less green than it was twenty-four hours ago."
=/=Understood. Power it down, pull the modules, and bring them to The Pit. I'll get fabrication working on the regulator and multiplexer. Advise Medical that it will likely take a few hours to have the station back online.=/=
"Aye aye, el'tee," Lincoln answered before closing the channel.
((OOC: And, we'll loop it back to the rest of you, here. Not sure if Chief Cook will still be in sickbay at 1710 or not but, regardless, Crewman Adler will either find or contact someone "with authority," and advise them of the situation - "nothing too out of the ordinary, definitely nothing that should have zapped Bachmann, but there are some issues that could bear looking at, so, yeah, we're gonna shut it down and pull the doo-ma-flotchy and the whatchahoozit, have it up and running again in three hours or so", Feel free to posses Lincoln, if you like, if not, here I am! 
Next up - continuing with Asovil and Tochi.))
Posted on 2016-08-30 at 08:34:46.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: Duly noted...
...I'll try and work that in to my post somehow.
Got to put my slide deck together for today's meeting but will get to posting soon.
Posted on 2016-08-30 at 05:02:55.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: I know...
...I gave myself a timeout and sat in the corner for a while. Lol
Post(s) forthcoming.
And I suppose I should see what I can do about some of those gaps in the log, myself.
Posted on 2016-08-29 at 19:25:52.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: I was all set to start a post...
...then I got to the bit about the raid and now I'm stuck imagining Asovil's in her skivvies!  
On a serious note, I'll have replies and such posted soon.
Posted on 2016-08-29 at 18:11:57.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: Have you tried turning it off and back on again?
Okay... tech support has arrived in sickbay and has started a Lvl 2 diagnostic on the "malfunctioning" Med-station. I strongly doubt that he finds anything too noteworthy but, if anyone feels like surprising me, don't let my doubts affect your posts.
Posted on 2016-08-29 at 15:23:27.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty
Subject: I told ya there was nothing wrong with this thing....
Stardate 2365.02.08
USS Peregrine; Deck 4; Sickbay - 1605
"Excuse me, Chief?"
CPO Cook's head snapped around; "Yes?" As harshly as the acknowledgement came from the woman's mouth, that ‘Yes?' may have well been a ‘What?!'
Geez, lady! Bite my head off, why don't you? I just got here
"Yeah, uh," he stammered in the wake of her obvious irritation, ",Crewman Adler; Engineering. Lt' Sa'eridon said something about a malfunctioning console?"
"Oh, yes," Chief Cook said, some of the annoyance gone from her tone, now, "just a sec."
Okay, so it's not me, then. Sorry for thinking that at you, Chief Cook,
"Aye aye, Chief," he answered. His gaze tracked to console MN-01-192A as Cook promised PO Adama a rain-check on the drubbing she'd apparently been giving the guy when Lincoln had walked in a moment ago.
"We will finish this discussion later," she informed Adama in a clipped, no-nonsense manner, "For now, take over from Yeoman Toriak, who has been doing your job; rather well, I might add."
For a moment, Lincoln wondered what CPO Cook was doing aboard a starship, he could easily imagine her being more at home with a post as a Drill Instructor at one of Starfleet's Recruit Depots, but, that pondering didn't last too long as, having dealt with Adama, she faced Lincoln, again, and motioned him toward the allegedly glitchy console.
"Over here, Crewman," she said, leading him toward the station.
Lincoln followed behind her, readying his tri-corder to initiate a Level 3 diagnostic scan of the console.
"This is the station that PO Bachmann says ‘attacked' him," Chief Cook said, drawing up next to the Medical Station in question, "We don't see anything, here, but, he does have some slight damage to his hand, his arm, and up to his shoulder that is indicative of an electric shock of some sort. Please, examine this console but be careful; I don't want another patient if I can help it. Any questions?"
Lincoln, stifling a smirk at the use of the word ‘attacked,' was already giving the station a visual once-over. "Yeah, I'll be careful, Chief," he answered, his cursory inspection having revealed little more than a faint smudge on the surface of the conn, "not planning on touching it just yet". He lifted his tri-corder, then, and, initiating the level 3 routine, began to scan the med-station. He watched the tricorder's readouts for a moment and, at first, didn't see anything out of the ordinary, there, either. As the device continued its diagnostic routine, Lincoln finally turned his gaze to CPO Cook for a second. "If I do find something, Chief," he asked, "will it be okay if run a shunt to isolate this station for a while?"
((OOC: Assuming something along the lines of "How long is ‘a while,' Crewman?"))
"Well," Lincoln answered, "I'm running a level 3, now, That'll take ten minutes, tops. If that doesn't reveal anything, I guess, I'll have to open it up and try a level 2. Yeah, that'll take an hour or two."
((OOC: Again, assuming some sort of response,))
"Okay. Thanks, Chief," he said, then, his eyes tracking back to the tri-corder's display, "I'll see what I can see and let you know what I find."
"Good," she answered curtly before turning away.
"Yeah,"
"You!" Cook's voice barked from somewhere over his shoulder. "Keep an eye on Crewman Adler."
Like I'm gonna steal something? Geez!
A few minutes later, the tri-corder bleeped as it concluded its diagnostic scan of the console. Lincoln studied the report, shrugging faintly when nothing out of the ordinary was revealed, and, then, saved it before putting the device away. He glanced around the room, looking for Chief Cook, but, when he didn't see her right off, he shrugged again, and tapped his commbadge with one had while opening his tool kit with the other. "Adler to Engineering."
=/=Engineering,=/= Lt Sa'eridon's voice purred, =/=Have you found something, Lincoln?=/=
"Negative, ma'am, er, sir," he replied, stepping around to the side of the med-station and starting to remove the access panel, there, "I just completed a level 3 and got nothing. Request permission to run a shunt around MN-01-192A while I run a level 2."
=/=Permission granted, Crewman Adler,=/= the Caitan lieutenant confirmed, =/=as long as doing so won't interfere with Medical's current workload.=/=
Lincoln's gaze flitted around the Sickbay, again. It didn't look like the situation had changed in the last ten minutes. "I think they'll be okay, el-tee," he answered, pulling the panel free and setting it aside, "I'll keep it warm, just in case."
=/=Acknowledged. Keep me posted.=/=
"Aye, sir. Adler out," he tapped his badge, again, and, as he peered through the access panel, called out to no one in particular; "Okay, so, yeah, I'm pulling this station from the network for a bit. I'll probably have it down for ninety minutes, two hours. If you all need it back before then, just let me know."
((OOC: Seems like a good place to leave off, Lincoln will commence a level 2 diagnostic that, as stated, should take him a couple of hours to complete. Feel free to use and abuse or just interact with him as you see fit, ))
Posted on 2016-08-29 at 15:12:55.
Edited on 2016-08-29 at 15:14:24 by Eol Fefalas
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty
Subject: Geek Squad; al rescante!!!
Stardate 2365.02.08
USS Peregrine; Deck 5, Shuttle Bay 2; Section M-13 - 1554
Lincoln had worked himself into something of an uncomfortable spot. In order to attach an ODN coupler to the sub-node relay he was working on, he had had to kneel on the deck next to the access panel and, with the coupler in one hand and a hex key in the other, reach in and up, and, once his hands reached the relay, he had to attach the coupler without actually being able to see it. He had found the relay and, with the pinky finger of one hand, had identified the coupling port and aligned the coupler to it. Squatting uncomfortably, both arms in the access hatch up to his elbows, and his face pressed against the bulkhead, he fumbled with getting the hex-key lined up with the set screws he needed to tighten in order to seat the coupler. He mumbled a curse, once, when he nearly dropped the key,
"Wha'd ya say," Megan queried from where she was huddled next to the Aurora Angel's computer core. She had just attached an ODN coupler to the thing and was setting the conduit in place, waiting for him to say he was ready for her to pass the cable his way.
"Nuffin," he answered, his voice warped a bit by the way his face was pressed against the bulkhead, "a'most dropped the darn thing, but, I think," Something of a muffled grunt escaped him then and he held his breath, further contorting his features as the key had finally found the set-screw and his cramped fingers worked furiously to tighten the thing down, "I got it!" The exclamation was followed by a relieved sigh as the young engineer withdrew his arms from the access port and uncontorted himself.
"Yeah," he chuckled as he stood up and shook out his arms, "I may wanna think about relocating that sub-node. What a pain in the,"
=/=Lt Sa'eridon to Crewman Adler,=/= his commbadge cut the thought and the sentence short, =/=Acknowledge, please.=/=
Megan poked her head out of the deck-hatch she had climbed into to access the core and she and Lincoln exchanged quizzical expressions. "I thought ya were off duty," she said.
"I am," he replied with a shrug, tapping his commbadge to respond to Karri, then.
"Adler, here," he said, motioning to Megan that he was ready for her to start feeding the ODN cable through the conduit, "What can I do for you, el-tee?"
Megan nodded her acknowledgement and, in a flash of bouncing curls, disappeared back into the hatch as Lt Sa'eridon contined. =/=Sorry to bother you on your off-hours, Lincoln, but we've been made aware of a situation in Sickbay that sounds as if it is right up your alley, I believe the expression goes?=/=
"Yeah, Sure," Lincoln answered, "Yes, sir. What's the situation?"
=/=Apparently,=/= Lt Sa'eridon explained, =/=PO Bachmann received quite a shock from console MN Zero One: One-Nine-Two Alpha,=/=
Lincoln's features screwed up in an expression of disbelief. "That's impossible, el-tee," he said, "I just ran diagnostics on all of the consoles in Sickbay, not twenty-four hours ago. Everything was in the green."
=/=Which is why I called you,=/= the Caitan woman's voice returned, =/=Despite those diagnostics, PO Bachmann is claiming the thing attacked him and, from what I understand, there are physical signs of his having received a shock. Can you look into it, please?=/=
"Yes, ma'am, er, sir, er, I'll be there in just a few minutes, el-tee."
=/=Thank you, Crewman Adler. Report back with your findings when you have them.=/=
Lincoln's commbadge chirruped to denote the channel closing and he heaved a sigh, half out of puzzlement at how the med-conn could have possibly zapped Bachmann, and half out of disappointment at having to abandon his time with Megan as a result of it having done so. "Hey, Megan," he called half-heartedly, taking a couple of steps toward the deck-hatch.
"Do ya have it, then?" she called back, "I've run th' thing as far's it'll go."
"Yeah, no," he huffed, flicking a glance back at the access panel as he neared the edge of the hatch, "Actually, I, uh, I've gotta go to work."
"Oh," she sounded disappointed.
"Yeah," he sighed as the tiny shuttle-pilot's head appeared above the edge of the hatch, "I guess Bachmann got bit by the conn down there at Station One."
"Got bit?" Confusion melded with the tones of disappointment in Megan's voice as she started to clamber out of the access hatch and Lincoln offered her a hand up.
"Some random, electrical discharge or something," he shrugged, "Zapped him pretty good, I guess,"
"Tha's too bad," Megan didn't quite frown and, taking the proffered hand, pulled herself back up onto the deck, "I've been havin' fun helpin' ya."
"Yeah," Lincoln grinned, more than a little ruefully, "me, too. Got a lot more done than I thought I was going to, thanks to you."
Megan brushed at her uniform to smooth and settle it, and, smiling again, offered him a little nod. "Glad ta help," she chirped, "Thanks fer givin' me th' tour an' invitin' me ta stay."
"Yeah," he grinned as they strolled toward the door, "we'll have to do it again, sometime. We've still got a good dozen and a half nodes to tie in."
"I'd like tha'," Megan smiled back as they stepped through the Angel's transporter room and into the corridor, "Jus' lemme know when, ‘kay?"
"I will."
"Marvy."
Not another word was spoken until Lincoln and Megan had made their way down the aft ramp and the young computer specialist had powered the unfinished craft down via the roll-away console. Then, as Megan moved to retrieve the PADD she had abandoned after first having met Lincoln a few hours ago, he followed along. Once she had gathered her things he offered a half-hearted smile and a shrug. "I guess I'd better go," he said.
"Aye," she smiled, "duty calls an' all o' tha'. I should prob'ly get back ta my studyin'. First shift on th' bridge tomorrow. Don' wanna look completely daft,"
"Yeah," he said, shuffling his feet a little, "I bet you'll do fine, Good luck though."
"Thanks," she beamed, "It was nice ta meet ya, Linc,"
"You, too, Megan."
",I'll see ya again, soon, I hope?"
"Yeah!!!" He might've blushed a little, as he hadn't meant it to sound as overly-ehtusiastic as it had (and was. "Uh.. Yeah," he repeated, trying to at least sound a tad more reserved, "I hope so."
"Okay, Ta, then," Megan chirped before turning and bouncing happily away, presumably to go find another spot to study.
"Yeah," Lincoln said, watching her go, "Ta,"
It wasn't until PO Owen had disappeared behind one of the shuttles further out in the bay hat he realized he'd been staring, and grinning like an idiot. He blinked and shook his head to break his trance but was unable to fully erase the grin from his face. "Right," he said to himself, grabbing up his tricorder and tool, "Sickbay,"
Deck 4; Sickbay - 1604
While he had been making his way along the corridor to Sickbay, only part of his mind was entertaining what could have possibly caused the conn panel to have shocked PO Bachmann the way it had. Crewman Lincoln Adler was still more than half thinking about the time he'd just spent with Megan, and the dopey grin that had formed on his face when she had said that she hoped to see him again soo was still etched there, even as he strolled through the doors to the Medical Department. That smile fell from his face completely, though, when he walked in and caught sight of Lt Reid and the Security detail,
What on the moons of Azaleh? What's Security doing here?
,his befuddled glance tracked to the bed where a restrained and, apparently, sedated PO Bachmann was being tended by Yeoman Turiak,
Seriously? he blinked in bewilderment, All of this for a shock? How bad could it have been?
His gaze curiously swept the place, tracking first to the console that Lt Sa'eridon had specified, looking for any signs of carbon-scoring or EM interference that he might've expected from something that appeared to be as bad as the way it suddenly looked. When he failed to find any such evidence, though, he cast a baffled glance at the unconscious Bachmann and, finally, regarded CPO Cook. "Excuse me, Chief?"
"Yeah, Uh, Crewman Adler; Engineering," he said, "Lt Sa'eridon said something about a malfunctioning console?"
((OOC: Aaaaaand GO! I'm off to lunch, back soon.))
Posted on 2016-08-29 at 10:48:20.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: Yay!!!!!
And might I also add; WoooHoooo!!!!
Posted on 2016-08-29 at 09:54:04.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: Also...
...as I've read back through the scenes in Medical involving Mr Bachmann and noticed that no one from engineering has yet to arrive, I am dispatching Lincoln. Have a post for you all soon...
Posted on 2016-08-29 at 08:14:58.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: No biggy!
With a crew this small and as much as there is going on, right now, it's entirely possible that folk are on duty even if it's not their shift, etc... As to Turiak... call it a stress of the moment flub... Like when you call one of your kids by the dog's name or whatever.
Posted on 2016-08-29 at 08:08:53.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: Is that what THAT is????
Thank God! I thought I was developing a blowhole from standing too close to the microwave.
No worries about the lack of post this weekend, Brom... Family first! Hope you had a great visit!
Posted on 2016-08-29 at 06:08:11.
Edited on 2016-08-29 at 08:31:37 by Eol Fefalas
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: I think....
...Brom once called it "sympatico".
Posted on 2016-08-28 at 20:11:44.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: Muahahahahahahahaaaaaaa!
*facelick*
Posted on 2016-08-28 at 14:01:08.
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Topic: Looking for players.
Subject: I'll definitely be lurking!
Loving the world and the characters already! Great job guys!
Posted on 2016-08-28 at 13:22:31.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: Engineering
I'm considering a fluff post, myself, getting Crewman Adler into the mix in medical and thereby wrapping up the scene in the shuttle bay.
Posted on 2016-08-28 at 09:34:14.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty
Subject: More with Tochi and Asovil
Stardate 2365.02.08
USS Peregrine; Deck 5; "The Aerie," Tochi and Asovil's table - 1610
"I was twenty-one years old and never once in those twenty-one years had I entertained the notion of being joined. My youngest sister, Myrri, she dreamed about it, studied and trained for it, and submitted her application to the Commission for it. Me?.." He chuckles softly and shrugs again, perhaps derisively, perhaps at the irony of what he'd just shared. "I was too busy fencing, and flying, and fooling around to bother with any of that,"
"Oh!" Asovil sits up straighter and raises her brows in surprised delight. "I've heard of this ‘fence-building' before. You use a long, very thin weapon that you poke into your opponent for points, no?"
Tochi grins at the Andorian's reaction (and her botching of the term). "Fencing, not ‘fence-building'," he amends her terminology but still nods his affirmation at her summary, "but, yes; that's the basics of it."
"I, too, am adept in martial sports," she leans forward, silverware still in hand. "Though, I am adept at hand-to-hand combat as well as the chaka and the ushaan-tor and have not yet tried the foiled that is used in your sport."
"Foil," he gently corrects, again, unable to keep himself from smiling in amusement at her unintentional flubbing. "In most competitions, the weapons are called foils or epees. Outside of competitions, though, we prefer a blade known as a rapier, there's something about the weight and balance that's just comfortable. We'd be happy to show you, some time, if you'd care to try."
He stole a bite of his salad, then, and, after swallowing and licking an errant spot of dressing from his lip, went on with his tale.
"Anyway," Zai says, taking up his glass and relaxing back into his seat. "I'm serving on the Perseus, standard kind of day aboard a Nova-Class, and we pick up a distress call from a transport that had experienced a catastrophic failure of their deflector grid. The Captain orders us to respond, of course, so we intercept the transport and get the passengers and crew evacuated before the thing is pounded into so much space-dust, We've never seen so much blood, before or since," The Trill sighs and paused long enough to indulge in a sip of his beverage.
"There were several dead," he continues, "Most of the rest were injured, a good deal of them critically. In the end, of the eighty-six people on that transport, only thirty-two survived that day, and we are one of them."
The Trill relates the tale as he (as they) remember it, up to the point at which Kasru awoke in sickbay aboard the Perseus and an as yet unjoineed Tochi piloted that same ship away from the doomed transport.
The Trill pauses, here, and studies his dinner companion for a moment - perhaps trying to decide if he's confused her, yet, or, maybe just offering the opportunity to interject - then, from behind a quiet chuckle, at her reaction, he feels he has to admit; "These overlapping memories have always been the hardest to reconcile for us, for me, We apologize if I sound like I'm insane." "These overlapping memories have always been the hardest to reconcile for us, for me, We apologize if I sound like I'm insane."
At that, Asovil swallows a mouthful of salad and shakes her head a little. Reaching for her napkin, she dabs at her lips. "Insanity isn't recognized by the insane, Tochi. What you're sharing must be a devastating memory to relive for any one being, but to relive it twice and from both sides of the event, well, I'd call that a special gift.
"Not," she hurries to add, "That the actual situation is a gift, but that the ability to know both sides, To know both sides of any condition would provide insight that anyone in my position would find envious—I mean, were the situation not heinous, of course."
He smiles softly, watching as the science officer chews at her bottom lip and drops her eyes to her plate and sits, as if somehow embarrassed by what she had just said. Then, Asovil cuts at her chicken and abruptly shoves the piece into her mouth.
A soft chuckle ecapes the XO's lips, then, and he reassuringly offers; "We know what you meant, Asovil;" and, at that, returns to the tale
"Dr Tyrrell, the Perseus' CMO, did all he could for Kasru, and told her that he held out hopes for her survival if she could just fight long enough to make it to the Starbase, but she was ninety-five, and tired, and stubborn, and we aren't unfamiliar with injuries, so, she knew she was dying. Knew that she wouldn't last to see the starbase. And, of course, knew that if the host dies before the symbiont can be transferred to another, the symbiont dies, as well, So, she used her last hours and influences to save us.
She told Dr. Tyrrell that, she did, in fact, know that she would die—that we would die—if a temporary host wasn't found immediately. There were some communications between the Doctor and the Captain and between the Captain and the Symbiosis Commission that neither I nor Kasru were privy to, but, when all was said and done, there was a concurrence made and Captain Locke asked for volunteers to serve as that temporary host," Tochi offers a marginal shrug and takes a drink, letting his eyes drift away to gaze out the window for a moment.
"Humans can host a symbiont for a short time, but, after 96 hours or so, it becomes seriously detrimental to the health of both. We were far more than 96 hours from the Trill homeworld, at the time, and far enough away, even, that we wouldn't have been able to rendezvous with a ship dispatched by the Commission in that time. So, as there were no other Trill among the evacuees from the transport, and none other than myself serving aboard the Perseus, I volunteered." He snickers, his gaze panning back to regard her again. "I had no choice, really. I couldn't see any of my human crewmates go through what it might have done to them, Besides, if Myrri ever found out that I had the chance to save a symbiont's life and didn't act, she'd have never spoken to me again."
He falls silent again, and studies his dinner.
"You didn't have much time to consider the consequences to your own plans, did you," she asks, a compassionate tenor coloring her voice.
"Not a lot, we suppose," he answers with a faint shake of his head and a marginal shrug.
"Are all Trill so devoted to the well-being of the symbionts?"
"We would like to hope so," he smiles, "they are part of us, no pun intended. Even to the unjoined, the symbionts are vital to our culture. To be a Trill and not be faithful to that relationship would be akin to an Andorian forsaking the Ushaan."
Asovil seems to accept this analogy with a nod of her head and, as she sets about the Asparagus once more, he sets his silverware down, settles back in his seat a bit, and turns to look out the window once more, "I met Kasru, in Sick Bay, on the day she died," smiling sentimentally as he stares at the stars, he almost murmurs the words. "When I introduced myself, she held my hand, kissed my cheek, and thanked me for what I was about to do. We didn't have much time together before the Commission's representative was reached on a subspace channel and we were prepped for the impromptu zhian'tara ceremony. We remember the Commission's representative being on the viewer and starting to direct Dr. Tyrrell in how to perform the transfer, We remember feeling Kasru pass on as we were removed from her, and feeling her return, when we, became us, we suppose."
He returns his gaze to the lithe Andorian across the table, "Are we boring you, yet," he asks.
"Absolutely," she states, and, lifting the Andorian Ale, she tilts it his way just a bit and says, "That's why I've changed the subject so many times throughout dinner."
"All right, then," he grins taking up his glass, again. "Since I had never applied to the Symbiosis Commission as an official candidate to host, I never had the benefit of a Docent to guide and train me in the years leading up to the zhian'tara, and because the ceremony was performed outside the Caves of Mak'ala without the benefit of a Guardian being present, the transition was," Tochi searches for the words. ",Traumatic. I was in no way prepared, even as a Trill, for what felt like for hundreds of years worth of memories and experiences to be unleashed in my mind all at once, And to suddenly know hundreds, maybe thousand of people whom I had never met, to," He chuckles as he shakes his head. Throwing his hands in the air in a gesture of resignation, he continues without finishes his thoughts.
"Let's just say that it did not go exceedingly well, hm? As I said, those first few days it felt like I might be losing my mind. We were temporarily relieved of duty and restricted to quarters, the sickbay, and the counselor's office for the duration of the time it took the Perseus to offload the evacuees at SB 153 and, then, make her way to Trill and deliver us to the Commission so that Zai could be transferred to the host whom they had selected to succeed Kasru," the XO smiles a decidedly mischievous smile. "By the time we were taken to the Caves, though, and despite our tumultuous joining, we had already decided that we liked being Tochi Zai and, as such, we refused to be transferred to another host,"
The Trill proceeds to relate the events of the following months that he spent under the care of the Symbiosis Commission and concludes with being his having been reinstated to active duty aboard the Perseus.
",From there," he says, flicking a playful wink and, at last, taking up his cutlery, again. "We just get into the tedium of my career. You likely don't want to hear any of that." Grinning, he cuts another morsel from his plate, pops it in his mouth, and chews. "Besides," he says, swallowing that mouthful. "We believe it's your turn."
A smile lights up Asovil's face and she shakes her head in wonderment, "How, in all the Universe, can I top a story such as that, Tochi? My life story pales in comparison. I believe the the only thing I could have done with my life that would have been more pale by comparison is to have joined the Pa'lek Tov and been a monk my whole life."
"Somehow, we find that hard to believe," he chuckles, reaching for his glass. "Every life story, in some way or another, is a light in the dark of the void, Asovil," He tips the glass to his lips, draining the remains of the beverage and, as he returns the glass to the table, the Trill offers a wry grin. "Trust us; we've got five," he winks. "We know beyond a certainty that yours shines as brightly as any."
((OOC: And there it is, room for continuation, interruption (which may happen, anyway, if Leah notices an empty glass), etc, Tally-HO!!! ))
Posted on 2016-08-27 at 11:12:07.
Edited on 2016-08-27 at 11:12:47 by Eol Fefalas
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: LOL
I'm not entirely sure it was Amy Schumer exactly. As I said, I don't remember the dream with total clarity. The music was very Enya like, the ship and seascapes were bad-ass, and the "flashes" of the crew were neat but that's about all I can recall.
That ^ pic works for me as far as Cook goes, though. I can picture it.
Great posts, people! Looking forward to more! Have a couple of things in the works, myself.
Posted on 2016-08-27 at 07:55:49.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: Okay...
...second bit of the Tochi post is up. 
Take it where you will, Brom... or Olan.... or anybody for that matter. 
Posted on 2016-08-26 at 13:30:55.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty
Subject: CWWLLO - Tochi's tale - Part Two
There was nothing in Asovil's response that indicated she didn't want him to continue, so, after a bite or two of dinner, Tochi picked up the tale where he had left it. "Dr Tyrrell, the Perseus' CMO, did all he could for Kasru, and told her that he held out hopes for her survival if she could just fight long enough to make it to the Starbase," A hint of sadness had begun to creep into Tochi's eyes, now, and his voice softened even more, though he still smiled, ",but she was ninety-five, and tired, and stubborn, and we aren't unfamiliar with injuries, so, she knew she was dying. Knew that she wouldn't last to see the starbase. And, of course, knew that if the host dies before the symbiont can be transferred to another, the symbiont dies, as well, So, she used her last hours and influences to save us.
She told Dr Tyrrell that, she did in fact, know that she would die, that we would die, if a temporary host wasn't found immediately. There were some communications between the Doctor and the Captain and between the Captain and the Symbiosis Commission that neither I nor Kasru were privy to, but, when all was said and done, there was a concurrence made and Captain Locke asked for volunteers to serve as that temporary host," Tochi offered a marginal shrug and took a drink, letting his eyes drift away to gaze out the window fo a moment.
"Humans can host a symbiont for a short time," he said, "but, after 96 hours or so, it becomes seriously detrimental to the health of both. We were far more than 96 hours from the Trill Homeworld, at the time, and far enough away, even, that we wouldn't have been able to rendezvous with a ship dispatched by the Commission in that time. So, as there were no other Trill among the evacuees from the transport, and none other than myself serving aboard the Perseus, I volunteered." He snickered, his gaze panning back to regard Asovil, again. "I had no choice, really. I couldn't see any of my human crewmates go through what it might have done to them, Besides, if Myrri ever found out that I had the chance to save a symbiont's life and didn't act, she'd have never spoken to me again."
He fell silent, again, and appeared to be contemplating whether or not to have another sampling of his dinner. After a moment, he set his silverware down, settled back in his seat a bit, and turned to look out the window, once more. "I met Kasru, in Sick Bay, on the day she died," smiling sentimentally as he stared at the stars, he almost murmured the words, "When I introduced myself, she held my hand, kissed my cheek, and thanked me for what I was about to do. We didn't have much time together before the Commission's representative was reached on a subspace channel and we were prepped for the impromptu zhian'tara ceremony, We remember the Commission's representative being on the viewer and starting to direct Dr Tyrrell in how to perform the transfer, We remember feeling Kasru pass on as we were removed from her, and feeling her return, when we, became us, we suppose."
He laughed, then, imagining how completely odd all of this must sound to non-Trill and, in imagining that, imagined also that, perhaps, that was the very reason so few non-Trill cared to broach the subject. The laughter served to break his star-rapt stare, too, and his gaze finally came back to settle on the lithe Andorian across the table. "Are we boring you, yet," he asked,
((OOC: Assuming she doesn't say "Yes!"))
"All right, then," he grinned taking up his glass, again. "Since I had never applied to the Symbiosis Commission as an official candidate to host, I never had the benefit of a Docent to guide and train me in the years leading up to the zhian'tara, and because the ceremony was performed outside the Caves of Mak'ala without the benefit of a Guardian being present, the transition was," Tochi seemed to struggle for a moment in his search for the proper words ",traumatic. I was in no way prepared, even as a Trill, for what felt like for hundreds of years worth of memories and experiences to be unleashed in my mind all at once, And to suddenly know hundreds, maybe thousand of people whom I had never met, to," He chuckled as he shook his head and threw up his hands in a gesture of resignation. There was really no way he could think of that could accurately describe what the joining was truly like at first.
"Let's just say that it did not go exceedingly well, hm? As I said, those first few days it felt like I might be losing my mind. We were temporarily relieved of duty and restricted to quarters, the sickbay, and the counselor's office for the duration of the time it took the Perseus to offload the evacuees at SB 153 and, then, make her way to Trill and deliver us to the Commission so that Zai could be transferred to the host whom they had selected to succeed Kasru," the XO smiled a decidedly mischevious smile, then. "By the time we were taken to the Caves, though, and despite our tumultuous joining, we had already decided that we liked being Tochi Zai and, as such, we refused to be transferred to another host.
We think, perhaps, a few Guardians and Docents felt as if they might be going mad, then," he chuckled, "It may have been the first time they had known a symbiont to refuse a host who had been thoroughly vetted and hand selected for them by the Symbiosis Commission. Such was their reaction, at any rate.
It's really not as if the Commission could have refused, we suppose," Zai sighed as he relaxed into his seat and smiled across the table at Asovil, "Separating us without our consent would have killed us and they wouldn't have wanted to take responsibility for that. So, we spent the next three months as a guest of the Symbiosis Commission and, under the often overattentive administrations of the Docent to whom we were assigned, were finally deemed fit to be released, They did call us glitchy," he smirked over a shrug, "but they seemed satisfied enough that we wouldn't kill ourselves if we were let go. We were reinstated to active duty shortly thereafter and returned to the Perseus,
,From there," he said, flicking a playful wink and, at last, taking up his cutlery, again, "we just get into the tedium of my career. You likely don't want to hear any of that." Grinning, he cut another morsel from his plate, popped it in his mouth, and chewed. "Besides," he said, swallowing that mouthful, "we believe it's your turn."
Posted on 2016-08-26 at 13:28:49.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: Ask and ye shall receive!
*With a wave of my magic spatula and an "a-la-peanut-butter-sammiches!"...POOF! A post!*
It's actually something like half of the post that I'm still working on, but, hey... it's still long... enjoy!
Posted on 2016-08-26 at 11:05:33.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty
Subject: Tochi's tale - Part One
Stardate 2365.02.08
USS Peregrine; Deck 5; Observation lounge ("The Aerie"), Tochi and Asovil's table - 1610
"Anyway," Tochi smiles, "as we were saying; yes, we retain all of the previous hosts' memories when we are joined..." He gently places the glass down and takes up a fork taking in a mouthful of his dinner. He chews, swallows, and takes another sip from his glass. "How is your food," he asks.
"Delightful, Tochi," Asovil answers, genuinely impressed by the cuisine, it seems. "I've not seen this - " She indicates the asparagus on her plate with the tines of her fork. "— Vegetable before. We don't really have many vegetables on Andoria. There are some, like the vor'tehl and the fr'ollenta, but nothing like this." Casting about for Leah, the Andorian finds her working behind the bar once again. "I can't believe this is replicator food. Leera is very good at her job."
"Good," Tochi smiles before taking another bite of his dinner.
"How about yours?" Asovil turns her attention to her dinner companion's salad.
"Delicious," the Trill returns. "The salad, in particular, is fantastic," he adds, poking mix of leafy greens and such that occupies a section of his plate, "spinach, strawberries, and," spearing a tiny crumble of somethignfrom amid the mix, "Terrans call this feta cheese, we think. Very good." The morsel disappears into his mouth.
"Good," Asovil nods, her response accompanied by a faint smile as she cuts into her chicken.
"Mmm," Tochi offers between bites of his own dinner, making a vague gesture at spearlike veggies on her plate by which she had been so intrigued, "that's asparagus, we believe,."
After swallowing another morsel, he studies the Andorian CSO for a long moment and, offering a curious sort of grin, asks; "Will that suffice as our measure matching yours, Asovil, or would you be disappointed if we didn't tell you more?"
The Andorian picks up her napkin, then, and dabs delicately at her lips. "This was your idea, Tochi," a coy smile playing on her lips and her antennae perking up a bit as she says so,
She finds the conversation amusing, at least, Zai thought as he matched her smile and offered a conceding nod.
, "I don't know if I should release you from the challenge yet," Asovil continued, "After all, you've mentioned certain events without expounding upon them, and curiosity is a scientist's greatest tool." Motioning to her meal with her knife, she meets his gaze and continues, "We've a lot of food to go through still. We can eat in silence, or we can converse. My vote is for conversation,"
"As is mine." Watching her as she spoke, Tochi smiled and decided that he was more than a little surprised at how effusive the willowy Andorian had turned out to be. The demeanor she had presented when she first appeared on the Peregrine's bridge a few, short hours ago and the bearing she had manitained during any interactions with the rest of the crew in that time had hinted at anything but this sort of loquaciousness.
",To which, I'll add, we once had a Trill tradeship land at the port city where I grew up. That was my introduction to your people. I can remember sitting at the table with my father while he talked about the technological wonders offered by that merchant and how excited he was for the opportunity to inspect a Trill Diagnostics Tool. He went on for hours about the complexity of the Trill brain, the two separate sections, I was very young and only remember bits and pieces as most of the conversation was over my head," Asovil was saying, then, taking an indirect route to answering his question and, in doing so, only making him smile all the more,
No, he thought, taking advantage of the moment and stealing another bite of his dinner as she continued to speak, not at all the rigid, stodgy scientist that we had imagined her to be, He took up his glass, then, and took a slow sip, as she continued to speak, and this is why we talk to people.
"But, my father's enthuesiasm entices me to this day, so forgive me if I seem too forward," she shrugs her little shoulders a bit apologetically and cuts another piece of chicken from the breast. "And please stop me if I get too personal."
Lifting the chicken towards her mouth, she pauses and finally asks her question, "What did you mean when you said that the Commission said that you weren't officially selected?"
"Please," he said, dismissing the contrite shrug with the wave of a hand and a warm smile, "most people tend to avoid the topic as if it's somehow off limits. It's not. Being joined isn't some big secret that we try to hide, you know? It's simply who we are."
The Trill paused for a moment, took up his glass, and took another sip as he contemplated how best to answer her question. At it's core, it wasn't a difficult question to answer, really, but answering in a way that could be truly understood without a lengthy diatribe on how the Commission worked was another matter. As the glass came away from his lips, he gave a fractional nod and said; "I was actually only supposed to be a temporary host."
Grinning, he set the glass on the table and rested his hands there, too. "Eleven years ago, I was Ensign Tochi Tigen; Assistant Flight Control Officer aboard the USS Perseus," he began, "I'd only been in the post for a few months and it had taken me a long time to get there, but I was sure that I had my life as close to what I'd ever imagined it to be. I was seeing the universe, piloting some of the galaxy's finest ships, and having fun." He shrugged and smiled; "I was twenty-one years old and never once in those twenty-one years had I entertained the notion of being joined. My youngest sister, Myrri, she dreamed about it, studied and trained for it, and submitted her application to the Commission for it. Me?.." He chuckled softly as he shrugged this time, "I was too busy fencing, and flying, and fooling around to bother with any of that,"
He stole a bite of his salad, then, and, after swallowing and licking an errant spot of dressing from his lip, went on with his tale. "Anyway," he said, taking up his glass and relaxing back into his seat a bit, "I'm serving on the Perseus, standard kind of day aboard a Nova-Class, and we pick up a distress call from a transport that had experienced a catastrophic failure of their deflector grid. The Captain orders us to respond, of course, so we intercept the transport and get the passengers and crew evacuated before the thing is pounded into so much space-dust, We've never seen so much blood, before or since," The Trill sighed and paused long enough to indulge in a sip of his beverage. It had been a while since he'd called up the memories of that day in detail and, between his own recollections and those he'd inherited from the symbiont, it was almost surreal. He couldn't help but shudder. "There were several dead," he continued, trying to shrug away the reaction as he did, "most of the rest were injured, a good deal of them critically. In the end, of the eighty-six people on that transport, only thirty-two survived that day, and we are one of them."
There was an undefinable quality - some sort of enigmatic duality, perhaps - to the smile that played on Tochi's lips as he relegated his glass to the table and leaned in. "You asked, earlier, if we retain all of the memories from our previous hosts," he stated, still smiling softly, "We vividly remember that day from both sides, and, well, it's likely going to sound very strange in the telling,"
An amusedly frustrated look passed over his face for just an instant, he chuffed softly to chase it away, took another sip of the ice-berry juice, and as he returned the glass to it's place, he shrugged and continued. "Our previous host, Kasru, was a passenger aboard that transport," Tochi said, leaning in just a bit further, now, clasping his hands together and resting his elbows on the edge of the table, as well, "We were on our way to Rili Prime to mediate an accord between the Rilian Oligarchy and a group of seperatists on Rili IV, That's not important,We were on that ship when the deflectors failed. We remember the first flurry of micrometeorites tearing through the hull. We remember the ship slowly tearing itself apart. We remember being injured, and we remember being brought back to painful consciousness in the Perseus' MedBay at the very same moment that I remember watching the transport finally implode from my seat at CONN and setting in the course to take the Perseus away, ahead of the shockwave,"
The Trill paused, here, and studied his dinner companion for a moment - perhaps trying to decide if he'd confused her, yet, or, maybe just offering the opportunity to interject - then, from behind a quiet chuckle, he felt he had to admit; "These overlapping memories have always been the hardest to reconcile for us, for me, We apologize if I sound like I'm insane."
((OOC: Okay, wow, this is getting to be quite lengthy. I'm going to "break" right here - as it looks to be about the halfway point or so of what I've written. I'll post the second part in a bit,.))
Posted on 2016-08-26 at 10:55:57.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: Hey...
...good stuff all the same, buddy-bear! If that's the post with a big chunk deleted, the original must've been epic.
Also... I posted again (go figure) revisited Meg and Linc for a while... did a walkthru of the Angel... *shrugs* ... entertained myself.
More with Tochi and Asovil in the morning. :
Posted on 2016-08-25 at 22:39:36.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty
Subject: More with Megan, Lincoln, and the Angel...
Stardate 2365.02.08
USS Peregrine; Deck 5, Shuttle Bay 2; Section M-13 - 1325
"Yer sure this is okay," Megan asked, making a futile attempt at tucking a stray curl of springy red hair behind an ear as she followed Lincoln Adler toward the Aurora Angel's aft loading ramp. She glanced uncertainly back over her shoulder, fussed with the escaped curl again, and drew up beside the Engineers Mate as he paused at a roll-away console that squatted at the bottom of the gangplank.
"Yeah, sure," Lincoln replied, checking to make sure the input lines coming from the shuttle bay's bulkhead and the output lines that led up the ramp and into the Angel's interior were securely connected to the roll-away, "Unless you're supposed to be on duty, or something?"
Grinning, Megan shook her head, setting her thick pony-tail to bouncing off her shoulders. "No," she said, "I come here fer a quiet place ta study's all. Never been invited aboard b'fore now,"
Having verified the connections were secure, Lincoln tapped a few key-sequences into the roll-away console. Following the final chirping noise evoked by those strokes, there was a faint humming sound that emenated from the Angel, itself, and, as Megan's gaze danced away from Lincoln to track up the gangplank, the little ship started to come to life. The heretofore shadowed interior brightened as the lights inside waxed progressively brighter; sound, too, began to filter out through the yawing aft hatch- familiar beeps and chirps from computer consoles, the soft whir and hum of servo motors priming, and the breathy hiss of life support systems coming on line.
",I just don' wann get ya in a fix, is all," Megan finished, feeling a bit less anxious and a lot more excited, now, as she gaped up into the craft.
"Don't worry about that," Lincoln chided, taking up his armload of equipment again and leading the way up the loading ramp, "You outrank me. If we get caught, I'll just tell them that you ordered me to bring you in."
"Ya bloody well better not!" Megan's eyes went wide and her mouth fell open in shock for an instant, and her heart fluttered as it tried to decide whether it wanted to beat out of excitement, still, or if it was going to go back to an angst-ridden tempo. When she realized he was laughing, she exaggerated a scowl while her heart settled on excited, and then hurried up the ramp after him. When she caught up, she nudged him in the side with her elbow; "Ya soddin' scrog-muppet!"
He laughed ever harder. "Seriously, though, Megan," he said, setting his load down and reaching out to take the bits she was had carried aboard, "there's nothing to worry about. Just because you've never been invited aboard doesn't mean she's marked as off limits. Besides, we're in here working. Just installing relays and running conduit," He grinned, shrugged, and, then, fixed her with an exagerattedly dubious look, "You do know how to run conduit, right?"
"Aye; tha's basic," she smirked, her eyes flashing.
"Like I said, then; not a thing to worry about."
"Marvs," she smiled back, her gaze holding him for just an instant before roving the cabin space in which they now stood and trying to see farther up the corridor that led forward. "Sooo, cargo bay?"
"Hmmm?" Lincoln asked, caught off guard by the question, was she asking him to go to the cargo bay with her and, "Ohhhhh! The tour, right," he half chuckled, half sighed, when that last thought got instantly slapped down by common sense. "Yeah," he answered, making an expansive gesture to indicate the space, "this would be the cargo bay. Although, I saw in the schematics that the Lt has got some kind of modular concept for this thing and, in a pinch, this space could be configured into a living area or two. Bunks, a dining area, that kind of thing,"
It was a little difficult for Megam to visualize in it's present state - a good portion of the bulkheads had yet to be paneled and, she was fairly certain that there were computer sub-nodes and other essential systems to be installed before that could happen, but, the exposed structural members and support structures framed it all out enough that she could imagine how it all might come together. "Kashi," she murmured, nodding appreciatively.
"What?"
"Oh," Megan grinned, "it's Welsh, um, kinda like ‘that is cool'?"
"Ah," Lincoln grinned in reply, "okay, ‘Khashi', Yeah; it is pretty cool." He started for the hatch that would lead them further into the Angel's interior, motioning for her to follow as he continued; "A good part of her is designed that way.
Modular, I mean," he said, reaching the hatchway now, "most everything from between here and the cockpit is framed out to be completely customizable and easily reconfigured depending on mission parameters. The only compartments that are truly static, I guess, would be the cockpit and the forward head, I guess the transporter room is kind of fixed, too, but,"
"She's got a transporter room," Megan squeaked incredulously, stepping through the hatch and into what looked like would be the craft's central corridor.
"Watch your step," Lincoln cautioned her, "they're quite a way from having her buttoned up. Don't want you tripping or falling through the deck or anything." When she nodded her acknowledgement, he continued on; "Yeah, there'll be an actual transporter room, if you want to get technical about it. Zai and Thorson carved out a little niche between the forward cabin and the mid-sections, here." He gestured ahead of them to where another hatchway defined the farther end of the corridor; "Reinforced and shielded bulkhead and hatch on this side, same thing on the other side, with just enough room in between to squeeze in a standard two-person unit and a control board."
Megan nodded interestedly, glancing at the far hatchway for a moment before letting her eyes travel slowly over the decidedly skeletal looking expanse between here and there. She was able to discern the beams and crossmembers that coincided with the craft's external structure and set them apart from the other structural work that promised to frame out other compartments at some point. "And ever'thin' between from here up's ta be swappable modules?" she queried.
"That's the grand plan, as I understand it, yeah," the engineer's mate nodded. "Right now, they've got an engineering module roughed in, right there," He pointed to what appeared to be a nearly completed room, just past her on the ship's port side, "and, up there," he nodded to the far end of the corridor where another, similarly sized compartment was taking shape on the starboard, "that's currently set up as a science station (stellar cartography is what they were running, last time I was here) but, they're thinking it could easily be tweaked to function as a medical bay, they, sorry, he, will probably just punch out another section for that. Or design a module that he doesn't build right off,"
The waifish shuttle-pilot was even more fascinated than she thought she'd be at finally getting to see the inside of the Aurora Angel. It wasn't quite what she had imagined looking at it from the outside these past months and she was having a hard time fathoming how all of this could have come from the minds of just one or two people. She had admired Lt Zai almost from the instant she'd been placed under his command but seeing this took that esteem to another level.
",only other things, outside of what's up front, that they've got plugged in, here, is that little section, there," she heard Lincoln say as, having heard his footsteps starting to sound on the deck, let go of her awe-struck gawking and followed along behind him. "It's not going to stay," he told her as they approached the area he had just indicated, "it's basically just an onboard workshop; mostly tied to Engineering right now."
As they passed the ‘workshop,' she gave it a cursory glance. There was little more to it that the decking, a partially completed bulkhead in which was set a large, fabrication replicator (definitely borrowed from ENG), a couple of worktables strewn with parts and tools, and another roll-away console that seemed to be serving as the ship's MSD. They passed by it quickly and, immediately after, breezed by the hatch that opened into the ‘Stellar Cartography lab' Lincoln had pointed out a moment ago, then, they were standing at the forward end of the corridor, just outside the hatch that, Lincoln said, would open into the transporter room, An' past th' transporter room, she found herself almost giddy thinking it, th' cockpit an' those manual controls!!!
Lincoln tapped at a small console that was set in the wall beside the hatch. The computer chirruped a response and the door hissed away into the bulkhead. "Here we go," he smiled over his shoulder at her, "Transporter room."
Practically glowing with excitement, now, Megan stepped through the door and flicked a glance around. To her left, she could see the deckside and overhead mounted collars where the transporter hardware would be eventually be installed and, to her right, tucked into a tight corner, an ‘L' shaped control console had been mounted and paneled in. Her grin and her excitement grew exponentially with every step, now, and it was all she could do to keep from bouncing up and down as she waited for Lincoln to punch in the code that would open the next hatch and reveal the cockpit.
"Ready," Lincoln smiled almost teasingly at her, his finger hovering antagonistically over the last icon he'd need to cue for the door to open.
"Bloody hell," the tiny shuttle-pilot cheeped, "will ya lemme see it, a'ready!?"
Chuckling, Lincoln let his finger touch the last character of his access code, then, as the computer whistled it's acknowledgement and the door slide away, he stood to one side of the hatch and, with a flourished gesture, bade her to step onto the Angel's bridge, As if Megan was about to actually wait for any more of an invitation, She practically bounced through the portal the instant it had opened and, when her feet landed on the other side, she stopped dead in her tracks and blinked in amazement.
"Oh, my," she had scarcely breathed the words - her mouth had hardly closed enough to let her enunciate them properly, in fact - but that did nothing to mask the pure astonishment that that total of four letters evoked.
"It's something, isn't it?" Lincoln agreed, stepping through the hatch and squeezing past where she had stopped.
"Oh my," Megan repeated, blinking dumbly as she struggled to fully absorb what she was looking at. "It's, it's gorgeous!"
Under construction or half-done were terms that she had long applied to the Aurora Angel but, if those terms applied to everything she'd seen of the craft, so far, they most certainly did not apply to this. All of the interior bulkhead paneling was in place, computer consoles, systems monitors, and control panels were all mounted, even the seats for each of the four distinct stations had been installed. She couldn't decide where to look first, she was so taken aback, and so she simply stood there for a moment basking in the glow of the thing as a whole,
"Yeah," Lincoln drawled, his own gaze slowly crawling over the forward cabin, appreciating it in his own way, "She's got a kind of old-school-Trill feeling to her, in here, huh? Kind of, I don't know, more flowy, I guess?"
, "More flowy," she repeated, chuckling the words softly as if she were speaking them from within a dream, "Aye." The sound of Lincoln's voice had been the catalyst she needed to, finally, direct her gaze to a finite point and, realizing that, she let loose another, somewhat self-conscious giggle. "Is flowy ev'n a word, Linc?"
"Hell," the young engineers mate chuckled, watching her as she finally blinked those impossibly large, impossibly blue eyes, and set them to roaming deliberately about the forward cabin, but not before they paused on him for the split second it took for him to feel like he was melting, "I don't know if it is or not, but, I mean," He thrust out his hands, palms up and fingers spread, directly in front of him, and then spread his arms wide in a comically exaggerated gesture that might has well have said Just LOOK at it!!!. His arms snapped back inward, then, bringing his hands to rest on his hips and, grinning, he finished his reply, "What would you call it?"
The little red-headed woman laughed a light, rain-water-on-glass-bells kind of laugh at that and, as her gaze slid away from Lincoln, she nodded concurrence. "Flowy, it is," she beamed, "Reckon tha's appropriate a term's I'd come up with."
Her eyes had decided to fall, first, on the station that was nestled immediately to the right of where she now stood. It consisted, primarily, of a bank of configurable consoles and displays mounted into the rear bulkhead, along with a strip of similarly customizable control panels that jutted out from beneath the others in a desktop fashion. The station wrapped around to consume a small portion on the starboard bulkhead, as well, but, it appeared that section was primarily given over to a smattering of auxiliary montiors and consoles. The chair mounted in the workspace was, like the ones at the other stations, certainly inspired more by the Trill aesthetic than Starfleet design preferences. It was sleek and elegant, but, at the same time, functional and ergonomic without being obtrusive in any way,. Almost like it was carved from a giant, chrome egg shell, she mused, reaching out to touch the surprisingly cool metal of the chair.
"That's supposed to be the Mission Ops/Comm station," Lincoln informed her as her fingertips slid from the chair's cold chrome structure and onto the notably warmer and almost silky feeling upholstery of the headrest, "It's mirrored to the aft engineering station, now, though, Makes it easier to check the MSD without having to run the length of the ship or haul a PADD around with you."
She nodded, her hand falling away from the chair as her gaze started to trace forward, intending to follow the arcing bank of displays to where they flowed cleanly into the beginning of the next station.
"Forward Head's over here," Lincoln's voice snatched her away from the way her eye had been naturally led, then, and drew it back around to see where he was pointing. It was immediately to the left of where they stood, hidden behind a narrow hatch set in the port bulkhead.
She blinked at the door, blinked at him, and wrinkled her nose.
"Yeah," Lincoln smirked, "sorry. You probably could've guessed that without me telling you."
"Probably," she agreed.
"Heh, Yeah," he offered along with a sheepish grin and shrug before motioning her attention back to where it had been going originally, "So, anyway, that's Tactical,"
The way the forward cabin was designed, it was easy for her to fall back into the flow of things precisely where she'd left off before his pointing out the head had interrupted her. It was all so smooth and organic. The auxiliary consoles from the Ops/Engineering station curved along the starboard bulkhead and, had there not been a similarly graceful arc of access panels separating them, would have melded seamlessly into the bulkhead mounted consoles that marked one edge of the TAC station. Those consoles and displays, in turn, flowed off of the bulkhead and onto a bank of consoles that curled slowly out toward almost the center of the cabin. As her eyes followed it along, she realized that the station on the port side was an exact mirror of the one she had just taken in.
",and that's Science or Engineering or whatever the mission calls for," Lincoln advised, timing his narrative to coordinate with her line of sight, now. He followed her as she stepped forward, moving, naturally, toward the space between the mirror image TAC and SCI stations. The outer edges of each station provided access, via a single step down, to the CONN station at the front of the cabin. He thought he might have heard her sigh softly as she approached the pilot's seat, rested her hands on it, and let her gaze travel longingly over the beautiful, crescent shaped bank of montiors and control screens that swept almost 180 degrees around the chair, Short and long range sensor displays, telemetry readouts, navigation controls, impulse and warp engine,
"Oi!" Her hands came away from the chair with an almost audible snap and her posture stiffened, too, as she suddenly realized that something was missing. "I thought ya said this thing had a manual FCS!" As captivating as the function and fittings of the CONN she had just swooned over were, from what she could see there wasn't so much as a thumb-nub joystick protruding from the console, let alone anything resembling the control yoke and throttles she was promised. She whirled around, prepared to give him the Devil's own Hell if it turned out he'd made all of that up just to lure her aboard under false pretenses.
When her dangerously narrowed gaze found him, he was grinning, not like the cat that ate the canary or the spider that had lured the fly into it's parlor, though, it was a dopey, school-boy, I've-got-a-surprise-for-you grin, Her suddenly hardened expression softened a bit as trying to interpret that grin confused her a little. "What!?" she demanded, probably in a more stern fashion than she should have but not quite as much as she might've actually wanted.
"Sit down," he grinned.
"What?" her voice and expression softened all the more.
"Sit. Down." He repeated, making a spinning motion with his finger, suggesting that she turn around and put herself in the pilot's seat.
Megan's face screwed up in a mask of uncertainty and she glanced from Lincoln to the pilot's seat more than once while he continued making the spinning motion and, for good measure, started to punctuate it by pointing emphatically at the chair. "C'mon, Megan," he begged, once his wrist started to tire of the repetition, "you're gonna love this, I promise."
She looked at the chair over one shoulder and, then, her still hesitantgaze flicked back to him even as she took a backward step or two to comply. "If ya try anythin', Lincoln," she warned, reaching back to grasp the chair with one hand, turning it on it's swivel so she could settle in, "I swear ta Mother Mary,"
"I'll stay right here," Lincoln promised.
"Ya bloody well better, mister," Megan cautioned further (even if she didn't really feel like she needed to) before letting herself commit to the incredibly comfortable seat that welcomed her.
As her weight settled on the upholstered cushioning of the seat, she heard the faint drone of servos underneath her and, not only did the chair swivel back around to face her toward the viewport, it auto-adjusted to accommodate her height and reach. She couldn't help but grin a little at that, she might have even giggled.
"Okay," Lincoln said from behind her, no closer than he had been, "now, you see those two strips of icons on the bottom edge of your central display?"
"Aye."
"Enter 03, 17, Delta5, 112a."
Her fingers danced across the console, keying in the sequence he had called out, and, an instant after the last stroke, she heard (and, she thought, felt) servos whir to life again, this time from the crescent shaped console itself, as opposed to from the chair. A nanosecond after that, two sections at the lower middle of the sweeping panel separated themselves from the larger installation. One sank downward and swept downward and out, before maneuvering itself to swing over to her right side and come to rest within easy reach of her hand.The other also sank downward to start, but, where it's twin had orbited toward her, this one disappeared beneath the now notched console and, as it reappeared as a pop-up display, just beyond the leading edge of the greater CONN panel, the console to her left whirred and extruded a drawer, of sorts, that, once extended within her reach, unfolded it's upper components to form a four levered, variable sync, throttle control the likes of which she had only ever seen in her studies. Even as the throttle unfolded at her left hand, the control yoke that Lincoln had promised was there seemedto sprout from the deck between her feet, right in the notch where the LCARS CONN panels had slid away, "JesusJosephan'Mary," she whispered as her little hands reached out to wrap around the manual controls that had appeared, almost miraculously, around her, "I would so love to sit here when she's runnin',"
"Khashi, right?" Lincoln's voice queried from behind her, he was closer, now, but, with the yoke in one hand and the throttle levers beneath the other as she stared dreamily through the laminated plasteel and transparent aluminum canopy, she couldn't bring herself to mind,
Besides, she thought, he didn't lie,
"Aye," she scarcely whispered, beaming brighter than was usual even for her, "way cwl,"
Posted on 2016-08-25 at 22:33:53.
Edited on 2016-08-25 at 22:36:32 by Eol Fefalas
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: My HERO!!! (or should that be heroine?)
I'm revisiting Megan and Lincoln, right now, but, post junkie that I am, I'm sure I'll get around to addressing the Asovil/Tochi dinner convo before the end of the night.
As to Astrid; I believe she went NPC on us some time ago... guess I didn't update the roster entry. If Haemis doesn't want or have the time to grab an ENG NPC (or get McTavish down there, for that matter), I can do something with that, too... Lincoln's a Computer Systems Specialist, after all, and could easily be dispatched by the powers that be.
See? Post. Junkie.
Posted on 2016-08-25 at 15:19:03.
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