Stardate: 2356.05.16

USS Peregrine, Shuttle Bay 2 – Aurora Angel – 01:25

A pile of chocolate wrappers lay in an avalanche across her desk back in engineering.  In her quarters a small plant lay on its side, blue petals drooping down to sweep across the floor, the ceramic pot it called home cracked down the middle.  As for California Eugene Kennedy herself?  She stood up in one of the bays of the Aurora, her hands stretched up into a panel in the ceiling.  Loud music pumped through the speakers in the little ship, making it vibrate in time with the deep beats.  

Everything, it seemed, was not going well after the staff meeting.  She was still kicking herself for lying to her Captain, even if he had understood what she was doing it for and had apparently accepted it, it still did not sit right with her.  They barely had a working relationship, and already she was staring him in the eye and lying to his face.  Grumbling she yanked on the line of wires she had in her hand, gaining another foot or so of it in her grip as she did.  

To make matters worse she wasn’t finding the solution to their problem.  Even now it didn’t come to her.  She had wanted to talk to John.  They had spent three weeks together hashing through a myriad collection of problems concerning the Peregrine.  He was easy to talk to, even easier to toss ideas around with, and there was even the (remote) possibility that he was a better engineer than she was.  She knew she couldn’t though, not yet at any rate.  The Starbase could not get a whiff of what was going on here, damn the Prime Directive.  

The solution was there, it was always there, or at least that was what she had always thought.  The issue was connecting the ideas in her mind.  Right now all of her thoughts bounced back and forth between two central ideas.  7 Billion People!  It’s the deflector shield, but… how!?    

She gave another hard pull on the wires and this time several feet gave way and she tumbled back at the sudden release in pressure on the other end.  The wire tumbled out of the open panel and coiled on the floor below.  Her feet caught on each other and she stepped backward into a wall, which thankfully stopped her backward progression and left her standing.  With a curse she kicked at the wiring.  

“Can’t even do this right!  For heaven’s sake - California!”  She growled, the anger starting to well up in her chest.  

There were only a few more hours left before she had to be on duty, but she couldn’t sleep, she couldn’t work either.  None of this was going well.  There was wrench laying on one of the nearby counters, and suddenly it was in her hands.  The metallic clang of it hitting against one of the wall panels rang out through the Aurora, followed by another and another, a few curses mingled into the distressing music she created.  

Stardate 2365.05.16 (Sunday) - Impact minus 55:48
USS Peregrine, Deck 3, Mess Hall - 09:45

Scrambled eggs—three to be exact—with melted sharp cheddar cheese and pico de mayo bunched up next to four pieces of thick-cut apple maple bacon and a thick waffle covered in melted sweet butter and maple syrup send tendrils of tantalizing aromas to tickle his nostrils. A little blurry-eyed, Ander reaches across the meal and lifts the piping white mug bearing the Starfleet logo to just below his lips, for a moment allowing the aromatic aroma of sweetened coffee to join the symphony of scents.

"Even with a full cycle of sleep," the COO states with a gentle smile on his lips, his eyes closed, "the smell of coffee will wake you up."

Across from the Latino man sits a blue-skinned Andorian with a blue and black uniform. Ferrero knows enough about Andorians to know that they don't need nearly the amount of sleep that humans do. I wonder if he even knows what being sleep deprived feels like, Ander muses, opening his eyes to meet the scientist's gaze.

"Yes, well," he pauses to sip the hot liquid, "enough of the small talk. Ops has been scouring the communications and it's a little all over the place. Tell me your department has had better luck."

Stardate 2365.05.16 (Sunday) - Impact minus 51:07
USS Peregrine, Deck 5 - 1435

Ander stares at the PADD in hand, frowning at the stream of reports from Alpha shift when O'Connor arrives and approaches him. He sees her from the corner of his eye and looks up to receive her salute.

"Petty Officer Frist Class Aoife O'Connor reporting, sir. Petty Officer Amai is medically indisposed, sure. Herself is on the way to Doctor Veen now; the poor lass 'as a terrible headache on her, so I'd be standing her Ops watch today."

Lieutenant Ferrero straightens and his face brightens at the sight of her. "Poor, Mr. Amai," he says with an inappropriate amount of cheer, "But it's jodidamente bueno that she has such a helpful roommate. Take your post, Mr. O'Connor."

"Aye, sir," O'Connor replies.

Stardate 2365.05.16 (Sunday) - Impact minus 47:59
USS Peregrine, Deck 1, Bridge - 1829

Aoife swallows, takes a breath, and speaks aloud. "Lieutenant Ferrero," she opens, "I've a broadcast found tha' ye need to hear, sir."

Ander turns his heavily-hooded gaze towards the woman and responds, the PADD he's still reviewing now resting on his left knee while he sits in the captain's chair. "Oh? Please tell me it's a stand-up comedy routine that's actually funny."

"This message is being sent every half hour," she explains. Aoife presses a button and translated audio fills the bridge.

=/\= Attention, space-faring beings. We, the citizens of Archin, know that we are not alone in this universe. There is no possibility that so many habitable planets exist in our galaxy with no other intelligent life on them. We may not yet see you, but we know that you are there.

Our world will be destroyed by an asteroid that we cannot prevent. But if you are here and receiving this broadcast, then you surely possess the technology to do so. 

Please, we beg of you. Save our children. Save our species. Save our world. =/\=

"Tha's all of it," Aoife pronounces as the audio falls silent, her alto voice even lower and more husky than normal. "They're askin' for our help, sure, sir."

Ander blinks rapidly, absorbing the message, his eyebrows raised in surprise. "Well... eso no le gana a todo ..." of course, the crew is going to want more than that. "Mr. Reid, where is Archin located and what do we know of it?"

(OOC: Assuming a report...)

"And the origin of the broadcast, Mr. O'Connor?" he turns his inquisitive gaze towards the Petty Officer.

(OOC: Assuming a report...)

"Do we know anything at all about the gato who's voice we're hearing?" This question, he leaves hanging in the air for anyone to respond to. "And how long have they known about the asteroid? Anyone have any idea about that one?"

He wants to have answers before he reaches out to Captain Drake. 

Stardate 2365.05.16 (Sunday) - Impact minus 47:59
USS Peregrine, Deck 1, Bridge - 1829

John listened as PO O'Connor addressed the Lieutenant.

"Lieutenant Ferrero, I've a broadcast found tha' ye need to hear, sir."

Ander responds, "Oh? Please tell me it's a stand-up comedy routine that's actually funny."

"This message is being sent every half hour," Aoife presses a button and translated audio fills the bridge.

=/\= Attention, space-faring beings. We, the citizens of Archin, know that we are not alone in this universe. There is no possibility that so many habitable planets exist in our galaxy with no other intelligent life on them. We may not yet see you, but we know that you are there.

Our world will be destroyed by an asteroid that we cannot prevent. But if you are here and receiving this broadcast, then you surely possess the technology to do so. 

Please, we beg of you. Save our children. Save our species. Save our world. =/\=

"Tha's all of it," Aoife pronounces as the audio falls silent, her alto voice even lower and more husky than normal. "They're askin' for our help, sure, sir."

The Lieutenant responed,"Well... eso no le gana a todo ..."......"Mr. Reid, where is Archin located and what do we know of it?"

John looked up from the TAC,"Sir, I would have to believe that Archin is the what they call their world, Calican II is the Federation designation for the planet. By this time I'd guess the brodcasts were being sent in all directions from around the plant to better their chances to have them recieved."

"And the origin of the broadcast, Mr. O'Connor?" he turns his inquisitive gaze towards the Petty Officer.

(OOC: Assuming a report...)

"Do we know anything at all about the gato who's voice we're hearing?" This question, he leaves hanging in the air for anyone to respond to. "And how long have they known about the asteroid? Anyone have any idea about that one?"

He wants to have answers before he reaches out to Captain Drake. 

Stardate 2634.5.15
USS Peregrine, Deck 5, CTO's Office

John had sent the basic facts of what the Peregrine’s fire power could do but now he guessed Zhay-la needed to figure out how to do a full rack break into a three cushion bank shot around the eight ball. The Lieutenant may have been able to direct an attack on an incoming enemy but the subtle use of force may be a challenge.

They had talked over the ideas: Will we get a better reaction to a full impact body blow or a high energy sustained push to drive the asteroid a few degrees off current course? 

Would we need Engineering and flight ops to figure how many degrees is needed to miss the planet and send the asteroid on its merry way? Or Science to figure how small of bits it needs to be pulverized into to render it harmless? 

Knocking it off course has to figure the impact in just the right location to push the whole thing and not just start it spinning like a pinwheel.

Or can it be broken into chunks that can be more easily moved with shuttles and tractor beams.

They had tried the holodeck to run simulations of photon torpedo arrays for time enhanced reaction and viewing. Zhay-la was showing signs of frustration, “Reid, this still isn’t enough; it is not conclusive. If it wasn’t for the Captain so worried about that Prime Directive more force might be able to be applied.”

Reid was torn, he had an idea that may prove sufficient to move or even break up the asteroid but he needed someone else’s help. What he had in mind was on the edge of breaking the Prime Directive and he couldn’t tell Taissud. He had promised her he would always tell her the truth but he hadn’t promised to always volunteer the truth. There was only one other person on the ship he could dare discuss this with and still protect the Captain from suspicion, “Sir, with your leave I’ll look into this further.”

Zhay-la looked up from the data on her comm, “Very well, see what else you can find. Dismissed.”

John left the CTO’s office and headed up to find the First Officer.