Stardate 2365.02.22
U.S.S. Peregrine; Deck 3 - Starboard Holodeck – 0720

Lt. Tal stretched her limbs, standing on one foot then the other, reaching one way, then another, and twisting the full of her body about as she warmed up. The room she stood in was very plain, reminiscient of a large gymnasium, with various apparati arranged around the floor. As much as she didn't like the holodeck's portrayal of living beings, which she simply could not shake the feeling of how fake they felt, it still served a very good medium for these sorts of exercises. And it felt good after a shift on the bridge, particularly in the Big Chair. She generally maintained a healthy alertness of the state of the ship during her shifts, but though her mind was alert, her body was seditary; she always found afterwards that she needed to let go and move.

In a leap, she cleared the edge of the raised platform, walking to stand at one corner of the wide, square mat, and raised her arms above her head. With practised ease, she ran forward, leaping into a somersault and a flip, before landing on her feet on the opposite corner, her arms once again raised in a mirror of her starting position. She repeated this routine several times, occasionally changing the pattern as she felt like it.

At the beeping of her PADD, she took a deep breath, wiping the sweat from her brow as she walked over to where the PADD lay.

"A priority change in mission?" Tal frowned, "Distress signal response... the Serapis... I'm not familiar with that name. We will need further details... which will be upcoming in the meeting."

Any other questions she had would be better to hold until 0900, she reasoned, and with that set aside in her mind, Lt. Tal turned back to the room, this time moving aside the square mat and leaping upon one of two twin bars, using her momentum to swing around and balance herself up above them.

Stardate 2365.02.22
U.S.S. Peregrine; Deck 2 - Bridge – 0735

Wave lines of vivid green, stark blue, vibrant orange, and callous gray dance in repeat patterns at the top of her viewscreen. Beneath the recorded variances lies an explanation of what the science officer is looking at. Radio waves have already been eliminated from the report by Dalia so the remaining readings are clearer. Longitudinal waves remain. Varying in frequency they are still nothing special.

"Nothing," Asovil sighs, her observation carrying through the computer to Science Lab 1.

/= The same as yesterday,/= Dalia acknowledges with obvious malaise.

"Change sectors. Continue the scans," The CSO orders flatly. "Today may return the same results like yesterday's but the scans need to run.

"What else awaits us today?"

/= Crane, Gaultier, and Scheuermann are putting their heads together on crossbreeding the Flaxian Hypernelium mold and the Triannon Vestillus fungi. /=

"To what end?" the Andorian's antennae tilt forward as her head tilts a little to the left.

/= Scheuermann believes that there are complementary properties that could result in a strain of plant with medicinal properties particularly effective in combating the Lumerian Pox. /= The information that Maize is referring to pops up on Science Con 1's screen. 

"Why are Crane and Gaultier involved?"

/= Gaultier believes that the excretions of the Oolans slugs might help stimulate the proper levels of reproductive hormones in the Flaxian Hypernelium mold under the right conditions. Without the slug's contributions, the gestation period mold won't match up with the lifespan of the Triannon Vestillus' spore cycle. /=

Switching the view for her commanding officer, Dalia produces a schematic of DNA strands on Asovil's screen. /= Crane's expertise is needed in formulating the melding sequence between the two strains of plant. All indicators point towards a cohesiveness but there are a couple of anomolies...  here, and... here. The compressed sequence will potentially need to be manipulated to become.more susceptible to the excretions. /=

"Well," Asovil sighs again, "it isn't as though they don't have the bandwidth. Have them submit the project scope for a full review."

/= Aye, sir. /= Dalia responds. /= They'll have the project scope to you within seventy-two hours. /=

Lieutenant Moriden's comment draws the Andorian's attention.  "Captain, I have a priority message from Starfleet Command."

Drake sets the PADD down that he's holding and stands. "Onscreen, please."

Turning to the bow of the ship, the Lieutenant focuses on the viewscreen as it shifts from the starfield to the scene of a human female in an admiral's jacket with graying brown hair.

"Admiral Harding," Captain Drake acknowledges, "I hope that you are well. What can we do for you?"

The Admiral frowns. "Commander Drake, you recall the escape pod that you brought to Starbase 118?"

Silas nods. "Of course, Admiral. What of it?"

Harding continues. "Commander, that escape pod was picked up by the U.S.S. Serapis for study. Five days ago, we lost all contact with the Serapis. Four hours ago, we received a garbled distress signal from her."

After a pause, an audio recording begins playing.

...containment failed... changes... loss of life... require aid... caution... HELP US...

"That's all there is," Harding adds as the static audio dies away. "Commander Drake, the Peregrine is the closest option that we have. I am sending you the last known coordinates of the Serapis. You are to proceed there immediately to ascertain the situation and to deal with it appropriately. Use extreme caution, as there is no telling what exactly happened. If there are any survivors, you are to render aid."

Drake nods immediately. "Of course, Admiral. Do we know anything else?"

An odd look crosses the admiral's face for a moment, but she shakes her head and far be it for Asovil to be able to decipher the human's expression. "No, Commander. I can provide no further intel on the matter. Conduct yourself with caution and keep us apprised. Good luck, and Godspeed. Harding out."

With that, the viewscreen returns to the starfield. Looking to her captain, Asovil considers what she's just witnessed.

Silas sits down again. "Tochi," he says thoughtfully, "set a course for those coordinates, warp factor six." Without bothering to verify if the order has been acknowledged, the captain locates his yeoman. 

"Riva," he calls, "inform the senior staff that our mission has changed and that the new orders will be the focus of the 0900 staff meeting."

The Bajoran picks up on the tension in Drake's voice, and for once, offers no sass. "Aye, sir. I'll get right on that."

Silas nods. "Thank you."

"I have a senior staff meeting at oh-nine-hundred," Asovil informs Dalia. "We will need to be swift like a tortoise and finish our meeting, Ensign," Asovil quips. "Proceed."

Meetings such as these have been known to take until eleven hundred and the Andorian scientist doesn't want to be late. With the primary mission of the Peregrine being anything but science, the prospect of a new mission brings with it a possibility of moving within range of something scientifically significant. She speculates that Starfleet won't be sending the small ship on anything too far from a base. Paying fierce attention to the matters at hand, Asovil can barely keep her mind from drifting towards possibilities.

At precisely 0830, the Andorian closes the meeting and switches the con computer to a multitasking view. Pulling up the maps of nearby space, she begins running searches. By 0850, she has a few possibilities and her excitement has grown to occasionally quivering antennae as she makes her way to the officer's meeting. Arriving five minutes early, she finds her seat and picks up her searches on her handheld while waiting for the meeting to start.

Stardate 2365.02.21
USS Peregrine, Bridge – 1450

As compared to the simulated attack on the Peregrine that had precipitated Tochi’s arrival on the bridge this morning, the remainder of his command shift had been uneventful, perhaps even boring. There had been little for him to do aside from monitoring the goings on, tending the tedium of administration, and, on occasion, calling out for sensor sweeps or course adjustments. Monotonous as it had been, the Trill was grateful for it and, in fact, took advantage of the situation by letting the ship run itself, for the most part. He had occupied some time by compiling a series of training simulations and combat scenarios for Flight Control. Other moments he had given over to contemplating and, in some cases, modifying schematics for the Angel. Still others he simply let his mind wander; trying to remember when he had last shared a meal and a conversation with Asovil… wondering about the curious overlap and melding of his memories with his symbiont’s previous hosts; was it a side effect of his insomnia, perhaps, or something else?

As if cued by that last thought, his comm-badge chirruped; =/\=Lt Reine to Commander Zai.=/\=

Tochi tapped his badge in acknowledgement. “Zai here,” he replied, “What can we do for you Doctor?”

=/\=Well, sir, I find myself with a bit of free time available,=/\= came the response, =/\=and I was wondering if I might convince you to come to Sick Bay following your shift? I’d like to follow up with you in regards to your last visit.=/\=

Glancing at the chrono and taking note of the arrival of Beta shift personnel, Tochi nodded faintly. “Of course, Doctor Reine,” he said, motioning Lt Nyle over, “We’ll wrap things up here and will be down shortly.”

=/\=Very well. See you soon. Reine out.=/\=

Sliding from the Big Chair, Tochi looked up at the Daa’vit OPS officer. “If you don’t mind, Lt Nyle,” he said, “we’ll hand you the bridge a few minutes early.”

“I don’t mind, at all, sir,” Nyle nodded.

“Very good,” Zai smiled before briefing his relief on Alpha shift’s activities and status of the ship…

“…and with that, Lieutenant, we leave the Peregrine in your capable hands,” Tochi finished, turning for the turbolift as Nyle took his place in the Big Chair, “You have the bridge.”

USS Peregrine; Deck 4; Sickbay – 1455

Tochi was greeted by a few glances from the medical staff and a faint smile from Chief Cook as he strode through the doors of Sickbay.

“Good afternoon, Commander,” Chief Cook said, looking up from her PADD and nodding in the direction of Reine’s office, “The Doctor is expecting you.”

“Thank you, Dana,” Zai smiled back, making his way to the CMO’s office.

“Yes sir.”

At the door to Reine’s office, Tochi cued the call chime and waited. Once the response came, he stepped through the door to be greeted by the Doctor, smiling warmly at him from behind her desk. “Good afternoon, Melody,” he grinned, offering a nod as he slipped into the chair opposite her.

“Good afternoon Commander, I trust you have recovered from this morning’s excitement?”

“I have,” Tochi chuckled softly, “Though we imagine that Ensign Garner might be having a rougher go of it.”

Melody chuckled in response, “How did you put it? ‘The art of victory is learned in defeat’?” She clasped her hands before her on the desk, “I am sure he will be learning much in the days to come. Now, to business. How have you been since your last visit? Has the anesthizine seemed to help or have any other affect?”

The Trill seemed to contemplate the question for a long moment before offering a vague shrug. “It did help make actually falling asleep easier,” he said, “and, panic at being awoken to a Red Alert aside, we felt fairly well-rested when we woke up. There may have been some side effects, though… We… I…”

He fell silent, again, one hand lifting to absently rub at the spots on his neck as he wrestled with how best to explain the dream/memory. How did one go about making a human understand the complexities of having the memories and various personality traits of numerous lives, spanning hundreds of years? How best to explain that, in most cases, the overlap was a negligible thing, easily dealt with and adapted to, but that, lately, it had become more difficult for him and that the way Dirven’s memories had woven themselves into Tochi’s dreams just wasn’t a thing that was supposed to happen.

“Commander?”

“…Apologies,” Tochi smiled sheepishly, “We were just trying to figure out the best way to explain it.” He sighed, leaned forward a bit, and folded his hands together on his side of the desk. “I had a dream,” he started to explain, “more like a memory, really… a memory belonging to a previous host, in fact… but, in this dream, the memory actually seemed to be mine rather than his. It was like I had replaced him in his own life… his own memories… and replaced others, there, as well. It was… well… unsettling, we suppose.”

He shook his head, then, and, with a chuckle and an almost exasperated gesture, leaned heavily back into his seat, pressing his hands to his temples. “We’re sure this sounds entirely crazy to you.”

“No, Tochi, of course it doesn’t,” Reine mimicked his posture as she leaned back in her own chair, thinking briefly of the state her mind had been in after the accident, “Human minds alone are complex, varied, enigmatic at best even today. A Trill’s minds . . . well you see where I am going. For the time being, if the anesthizine is helping you sleep and feel rested, I would suggest continuing with it, unless your symptoms begin to worsen. In which case, stop taking them and contact me immediately.”

She looked away for a moment, already contemplating the steps she would be taking to look into occurrences like his in the past and what it had meant for the Trill it affected. “I will do some research and perhaps confer with my colleagues on what you have shared with me. We’ll touch base when I am able to provide you with more information and a more assured course of action. Are you comfortable with this, Commander? If the anesthizine is too unbearable as it is, I can find you an alternative now. It may not be as immediately effective as the anesthizine, but it may temper the, intensity of the dreams you are having.”

The Trill shook his head and smiled. “No,” he said, “The anesthizine seems to work fine for what was intended. We just weren’t prepared for the strangeness of the dreams, I suppose.” His spots went purple, then, and his cheeks might have flushed a bit as he recalled that particular fantasy. “I can’t even say that it was unpleasant,” he confessed, leaning forward again and resting his elbows on his knees as he smiled across the desk at the doctor, “just… disorienting.

We should be accustomed to that, I suppose,” he grinned, “and unsurprised by it, given the recent state of things. Now that the Captain has taken his command back, though, we imagine things will fall into place soon enough.”

Although she hadn’t given her consent for him to do so, the XO rose from his seat and took a tentative step away from the chair. “Perhaps a return to our typical routine will facilitate an end to the oddity of it all, yes?”

Melody stood as well and joined him on the other side of her desk, “It certainly wouldn’t hurt.”

The Trill chuckled softly, perhaps with more of a tinge of exhaustion coloring the sound than he might have intended, and took another step toward the door. He paused, though, and glanced back at the woman, an almost mischievous expression playing on his features. “That reminds me,” he said, “I believe you challenged me to a bout not long ago and we have yet to cross blades, Doctor. Perhaps we might remedy that soon, hm?”

A grin spread across her face, “I believe I had. Are you finally prepared to learn of the art of victory, Commander?”

“I look forward to it,” Zai grinned roguishly, “Thank you for your time, Melody. We’ll be sure to let you know how things progress.”

“Very well, Tochi, enjoy the rest of your day.”

The commander gave the doctor a swift nod before heading out of her office.

Stardate 2365.02.22
U.S.S. Peregrine; Deck 1 - Bridge – 0735

Lieutenant (junior grade) Candar Moriden looks up from her console and unsticks her tongue from the roof of her mouth. The notification on her screen bears an admiral's seal and she knows better than to delay reporting such a thing while she continues to sort through Gamma's operations reports.

"Captain, I have a priority message from Starfleet Command," she informs Drake in her clipped way, each consonate sounding like it's emphasized with a clicking sound.

Drake sets the PADD down and stands. "Onscreen, please."

"Aye, sir," Candar responds, her tongue immediately returning to the habitual probing of the breathing device she'd had installed before joining Starfleet. Implanted directly into the roof of her mouth, the atmospheric adjuster spreads its tendrils through her nasal cavity and laces her throat, turning the air she breathes from the oxygen/nitrogen mix prominently on Starfleet vessels into the chemical balance of her homeworld. The surgery eliminates the need for her to use the cumbersome breathing devices others of her race had been restricted to in the past.

Watching the exchange between the Captain and the Admiral, Candar immediately begins putting together a thorough report of the entire engagement (as is her way) to send to Nyle. He'll receive the invitation to the senior staff meeting as well, but a Benzite is not a Benzite if they aren't thorough.

Stardate 2365.02.22
U.S.S. Peregrine; Deck 1 - Bridge – 0735

Seated at the helm, Tochi occupied himself with the minutiae of keeping the Peregrine on course and efficient in her power usage. It wasn’t an arduous task on a patrol route such as this, of course, but, given the dreams he’d been having of late, he thought it wise to keep his attentions focused on the CONN as opposed to risking a glance in the direction of SCI-1 and having the sight of Asovil cause those dreamt images to chase into his conscious thoughts. As it was, at just the sound of her voice, he was having a difficult enough time, keeping those provocative thoughts at bay.

The anesthizine that Dr Reine had prescribed was certainly helping with his insomnia, of course, but the ‘side-effects’ that he believed it to be causing were another matter entirely. The first dream, in which he had relived Dirven’s memories of meeting and courting Talla, had been confusing and distracting enough what with him replacing Dirven and Asovil supplanting Talla. Last night’s reverie, though, hadn’t been quite as tame as an intended serenade turning into an impromptu concert on some Risian beach. The dreams were similar in that, once again, it had taken the form of one of Dirven’s memories of Talla; and, again, Tochi and Asovil had replaced the other pair. This time, however, there had been far less clothing than a silver bikini and a pair of torn swim trunks involved and much more physical contact than a cool blue hand on his chest and a tentative kiss on the cheek. Not at all an unpleasant side effect, of course, but, minus a distraction less mundane than a simple patrol route… well…

"What else awaits us today," Asovil’s voice carried to his ears from her post at the Science station.

Another cold shower for me, Tochi smirked inwardly, forcing himself not to look in the beautiful Andorian’s direction, if I can’t stop imagining you naked in my arms and your breath in my ear.

…“For frill’s sake,” the Trill muttered under his breath, shaking his head to chase away the visions he’d just called to mind. He forced his eyes to the nav-display on his console, then, hoping that the star charts would queue up thoughts of anything other than those he was considering at the moment. Some memory of old trade routes from Odia’s day, perhaps, or even some obscure bit of stellar cartography trivia from Isri’s. Anything but recollections of last night’s horribly wonderful dream.

We’ll try sleeping without the anesthizine, tonight, he decided as his fingers traced over the console and adjusted the Peregrine’s course ever so slightly, perhaps that will help.

Perhaps, Kasru’s voice interjected itself into his thoughts, you should just have dinner with her, boy. Could it be that these dreams have less to do with pharmaceuticals and more to do with you missing her company?

Tochi couldn’t help but glance in Asovil’s direction, then, and the sight of her invoked a flutter of longing in his heart and coaxed a soft smile to his lips. It had been some time since he’d had the opportunity to speak with her other than in passing or about things other than ship’s business. You may be right, he nodded, tearing his eyes away from the lovely CSO and forcing them back to his console, I’ll do just that… so long as nothing comes up to…

“Captain,” Lt Moriden’s call derailed Tochi’s thoughts, “I have a priority message from Starfleet Command.”

"Onscreen, please."

Zai’s gaze lifted to the viewscreen as the trail of warp-stretched stars were blinked away in favor of an image of Admiral Harding.

“Admiral Harding,” Drake acknowledged, “I hope that you are well.  What can we do for you?”

The Admiral frowned.  "Commander Drake, you recall the escape pod that you brought to Starbase 118?"

Silas nodded.  "Of course, Admiral.  What of it?"

Harding continued.  "Commander, that escape pod was picked up by the U.S.S. Serapis for study.  Five days ago, we lost all contact with the Serapis.  Four hours ago, we received a garbled distress signal from her."

There was a pause and, then, a clipped and static ridden audio clip played.

...containment failed... changes... loss of life... require aid... caution... HELP US...

“That’s all there is,” the Admiral noted as Tochi glanced back at the Captain, an expression of confusion and concern playing on his features.

"Commander Drake, the Peregrine is the closest option that we have.  I am sending you the last known coordinates of the Serapis.  You are to proceed there immediately to ascertain the situation and to deal with it appropriately.  Use extreme caution, as there is no telling what exactly happened.  If there are any survivors, you are to render aid."

Tochi’s eyes snapped back to his console, then, and, as soon as the coordinates were received, he keyed them into the helm.

“Of course, Admiral,” Silas answered even as Peregrine began to veer off onto its newly assigned course, “Do we know anything else?”

The Trill glanced up at the viewscreen just in time to see the odd look pass across Harding’s face. “No, Commander,” she said, “I can provide no further intel on the matter.  Conduct yourself with caution and keep us apprised.  Good luck, and Godspeed.  Harding out.”

The viewer went blank, then, and, behind him, Tochi heard Capt Drake retake his seat. “Tochi,” Drake ordered after a moment, “set a course for those coordinates, warp factor six.”

“Already done, sir,” the Trill responded, increasing the ship’s velocity as Drake engaged with Riva, “We are en route.”

Stardate 2365.02.22
U.S.S. Peregrine; Deck 2 - COO Quarters – 0735

Nyle steps from the sonic shower and draws in a deep breath. The high-pitched setting is invigorating, especially after a Tohe’Marain session. Feeling limber, the lanky Daa'Vit makes his way to the wall where his closet is embedded. Passing his hand over the sensor, he patiently waits the short couple of seconds it takes for the computer to comply. Taking his newly pressed uniform from the hanger, Nyle inspects it for any unwanted wrinkles. Although his shift doesn't officially begin until Beta, there is still too much to catch up on and familiarize himself with for him to be lounging about all Alpha Shift.

Donning his uniform with respectful care, Nyle is interrupted by an insistent chirp.

=/\= Lieutenant Nyle, =/\= a voice he doesn't recognize comes across the com. =/\= This is Petty Officer Riva. Captain Drake has called a senior officer staff meeting at oh-nine-hundred this morning. Shall I convey your RSVP? =/\=

"Certainly, Mr. Riva," Nyle responds while looking at the ceiling as though he could see the Bajoran's face in the smooth surface.

=/\= Thank you. =/\=

Practicing another human expression, Nyle raises his thin eyebrows. Curious. What could be the reason, I wonder.

Completing his task of getting dressed—boots polished, pips aligned perfectly, and without any unwanted wrinkles—the COO moves to his desk and pulls the chair out. As he sits, he asks the time of the computer.

"Thank you," he absently acknowledges while activating his personal computer. "Please set an alarm for oh-eight-forty-five."

=/\= An alarm has been set for oh-eight-forty-five this morning. =/\=

Leaning forward, he places his left hand on his left knee and touches the message center with his right forefinger. "Finished with your Gamma report review already, Mr. Moriden? Efficient."

Opening the message, Nyle quickly devours the content. Thus the reason for the meeting. I had better prepare. Minimizing his message center, the COO opens his reports dashboard and begins the process of sorting through ship stores, maintenance schedules as outlined by Engineering, Security schedules, shuttle readiness, Medical supply requests, and more. The duties of Operations include bringing all of the different departments together to function as a useful entity. From what he had read, there's a vessel in need of rescue. Medical will definitely be involved, as will Security and Engineering which means that Operations will be very busy.

Setting the computer to compile the necessary data, he switches to his newly acquired department roster. Charcoal eyes scan the names and qualifications. Brok, Logistics; Tolaris, Transporters... certainly those two, and perhaps Amai. Amai should be awake by now. Miahaya Amai shares Beta shift with him, but Nyle can't fathom that she would be anything other than up and ready for the day. The other two will be working Alpha. It makes more sense to have the majority of the Operations department available during the primary shift.

"Computer," Nyle declares in a monotone voice as he settles back in his chair. "Display the most likely possible locations of the U.S.S. Serapis were it to be traveling at Warp Six from the destination of Starbase Eighteen for five days."

Looking at the star map that appears on his screen, the operations officer notes each flashing Starfleet logo. "Clear positions thirty-five through forty-two."

The screen makes the appropriate adjustments, removing the positions in the Peregrine's wake. Knowing this is all speculation, Nyle begins pulling data together on the top ten likely locations as best as he can figure based on nearby planets, spacial anomalies, known trade routes, and other points of interest that have already been registered on the map. Lost in his work, he nearly jumps in his chair when the alarm he'd set earlier sounds.

Silencing the interruption, the astute Daa'Vit immediately recalls the purpose of the alarm and marks his findings for availability on his padd. Striking an impressive stride, Nyle exits his quarters (padd in hand) and makes his way to the meeting already playing out possible interactions in his head.