Stardate: 2365.05.15

USS Peregrine, Deck 5: Shuttle Bay 2 - Aurora Angel 13:00

The Commander (he had continued to call her Eugene a few times this morning, and so she had thus far refused to call him Tochi in response), had left a while ago to head up the flight controls on the bridge as they pulled into the Calican system.  Kennedy had already checked in with Lt. Sa’eidron and made sure the woman, who sounded a little perkier than she had for a few days, was good to go with engineering and to once again establish that she should call with any questions.  Which left Callie alone with the Aurora.  

In her headphones a heavy base beat was drumming out a familiar tune and she bobbed her head along with it.  Last night they had worked on reinstalling the blast shields that she had noted.  They had also sat down with that bottle, Tochi drinking more than she had, and hammered out plans for what else needed to be worked on.  Now she double checked her PADD to make sure she had the calibrations correct for the asymmetrical E-M coupling she was staring at.  She then nodded to herself. 

“Alright then, let’s get to it…”  She tapped the side of her headphones and the volume cranked up a notch.  Callie flipped a wrench out of her tool belt and into her palm, then crawled down onto the floor and scooted herself down into the slender Jefferies Tube that held the coupling.  

Her foot tapped on the floor as she lay on her back half way in the tube.  

“We will rock you… alright, just a hair to the left Callie.  Not too far, if you screw this up you’re going to have to pull out the whole rig and refit it.  That spotted bastard won’t be pleased if you screw up his ship on the first day… that’s it… just a hair more… stop… are the champions… good, now to the next one…”  She muttered to herself as she worked.  

Stardate: 2365.05.15

USS Peregrine, Deck 5: Shuttle Bay 2 - Section M-13 - 13:16

“Bloody hell,” Megan mumbled around the last bit of the cranberry-oat muffin she had just poked into her mouth, “an’ I thought th’ bridge certification exams’d put me off me head.” Weaving her way through the maze of crates, spare parts, and maintenance equipment, she sucked the remaining crumbs off her fingers and scowled at the course listings displayed on the PADD in her other hand; “These fookin’ Acad’my courses, though’re like ta set me right barmy! Advanced subspace geometry, Advanced Navigation, Command an’ Control, Fractal friggin’ Calculus…” a heavy sigh heaved from her tiny chest as the curriculum scrolled on and on, “...reckon there’s worse way ta lose yer nut.”

She flopped down amongst the crates of her usual study spot in the shadow of the Aurora Angel, her thoughts letting go of how taxing the courses Commander Zai had told her were contingent to keeping her commission were and, instead, slipping back to the horrors of those who had gone mad in the face of Chimera for a moment. “Aye,” she scarcely whispered, shoving a hand through the mass of copper curls that sprouted from her head and rubbing at where her neck met the base of her skull, “plenty o’ worse…”

Like most of the Peregrine’s other crew who had survived the Chimera incident, Megan didn’t like to dwell on those thoughts overlong but, also, like the others, she knew it would be a long time before she’d come anywhere close to being free of them. She pinched her eyes shut before the tears could come, again, and continued kneading at her neck until the shuddering of her breath found its way to a more even rhythm. “Right then,” she breathed, determined not to let those thoughts clutter her head before she managed to get through, at least one more assignment, “let’s be to it.”

A determined grimace etched itself into her elfin features and she cued open her Astrogation coursework. She had been head down over the PADD for only moments before a question regarding tri-axial spatial orientation skewed her expression from determination to frustration. She was sure she knew the answer but, for some reason, it was being evasive, and, as her eyes lifted from the PADD and into the netherspace of the shuttle bay in hopes of finding it, she finally realized that the tarps in which the Angel had been draped for so many months were missing… “Iesu mawr,” Megan swore, leaping to her feet quickly enough to spill the PADD from her lap and send it clattering to the deck, “I dinnae think Tochi’d touched th’ thing since…”

A faint clatter and clang resonated from within the Angel’s interior, then, drawing the Ensign’s wide-eyed gaze to the little ship’s aft loading ramp where a wash of light spilled onto the deck. Megan knew that Tochi was on the bridge, at the moment, and she strongly doubted that Linc would have been doing any work on the craft without having told her about it. “Wha’ th’ bloody HELL?!” A fire kindled in her chest and quickly spread to her cheeks as she stomped from her study spot toward the base of the ramp. “Swear ta Jesus, if et’s one o’ them newbies pokin’ ‘round where they don’ b’long…” She snatched a heavy spanner from the rack of tools huddled near the Angel’s gangplank. “...I’ll dent their blinkin’ dome!”

“Oi!” Megan called, storming up the ramp with purposeful determination, her ire rising with each step. “Who inna name o’ Mother Mary’s muckin’ about in here?!”

No reply.

She made a quick search of the cargo bay and, having found no one, moved deeper into the Angel’s belly. “Ye’d best answer,” she hollered, clutching the spanner with both hands as her gaze frantically scanned each module in search of the intruder, “er I swear ta Jesus, I’ll put a divot in yer head tha’ll no come out, aye?!”

It wasn’t until Megan had nearly reached the hatchway to the bridge that she spied a pair of legs poking out of the access port of a Jeffries Tube, one foot tapping rhythmically. She sucked in a deep breath, assured her grip on the spanner, and crossed the distance between her and the disembodied legs. “Whoever ya are, yer gonna wanna come oota there afore I take this spanner tae yer ankles!”

Still no reply; and the one foot continued tapping to a phantom beat that Megan couldn’t hear.

“OI!!!” the waifish ensign veritably shouted, then, drawing her own foot back and lofting a swift kick at the sole of the other’s boot, “I said ta haul yer apple-polishin’ arse outta tha’ tube!!!”

“Wha… in tarnations!?”  Callie felt someone kick at her foot, her reflexes overcame the logic of her being in the confines of the Jefferies Tube and she tried to sit up, again bashing her head into the metal frame of the ship.  

“Dammit!  This stupid ship is going to be the death of me!”  She cried out and laid back down, pulling off her headphones as she tried to wiggle out of the tube, just in time to hear the end of the Welsh lass’s tongue lashing.  Callie pulled her head out of the tube and stared up at the woman with a quizzical look on her face.  

“Yes?  I’m out now… what exactly are you going to do to my arse?”  

The blood drained from Megan’s cheeks as quickly as it had boiled there to begin with when she recognized Commander Kennedy’s face emerging from the Jeffries. “Ohmuhjeezus,” she squeaked, dropping the massive spanner and bouncing back a foot or two, “I’msosorryCommanderIthunkyemightbesomeoneelsean’shouldn’beherean…” She threw her hands up in surrender, blinked her giant, pale blue eyes in sustained shock, her mouth falling open. “Puhleeze don’ report me, sir,” she pleaded, abashed that she’d not only threatened but, also, technically, assaulted a superior officer. Then, it dawned on her that, as far as she knew, Commander Kennedy didn’t even know about the Angel and, as such, probably shouldn’t be poking around… especially in her nether regions.

“Uhhhhhhmmmmm,” she droned, her hands slowly falling to her sides and a bit of tension draining from her features, “I...if’n I might ask, Commander… does Tochi know yer… here… doin’ whatever it es yer doin’?”

Kennedy put down her wrench and got to her feet while the girl rattled on.  She dusted herself off a little and looked at her squarely in her eyes.  Then snapped her fingers a few times.  “It’s… O’Malley… O’Neil… O…”  Kennedy shook her head and sighed.  “Nope… not coming to me.  O something from that little island across the pond though.  I’m not going to report you, although… I am intrigued to learn that my arse can polish apples.  And do you go around kicking everyone whom you think is out of place?  Your career is going to be entertaining…”  

She laughed a little and turned away from the girl, grabbing a rag she had left on a nearby counter and wiped at her hands.  “Does Commander Zai know I am here?”  She posed the question without answering it and gave a slight shrug, smiling while she still had her back to the girl. 

“It’s Owen, sir,” Megan swallowed, “Ensign Megan Owen… yemayhavemeconfusedwi’PettyOfficerO’ConnerfromOPSbutthat’sunnerstandableaccentsbein’similaran’sechbutshe’sheran’I’mmean’...Well,I’msorrahaboutyerarse,sir,Idunnotha’itpolishesapplesan…”

Commander Kennedy pulled the smile off her face and put back on her most stoic expression before turning back around to face Owen.  “Ahh… Owen.  I was close.” 

The little Ensign’s head fell forward, then, and she lofted a resigned sigh. “Ensign Owen, at yer service, sir,” she reiterated, “My sincere apologies fer th’ kick an’ th’ threatenin’ an’ wha’no’...”

She shrugged and then really took a look at the forlorn look on Megan’s face and couldn’t help it any longer, she burst out into laughter.  

“Do you ever take a breath when you speak Ensign?”  She was laughing so hard that tears had started gathering at the corner of her eyes.  “Calm down… deary.  Nothing to report.  And of course Zai knows I am here, I ran into him last night in the Aerie and we spent several hours in here afterward going over the beaut.  I wasn’t expecting company today, he didn’t mention sending help.”  

She dabbed a little at her eyes with the rag, still chuckling a little.  “I wouldn’t dare work on this lady without his permission.”  Kennedy held out her hand, “Good to meet you Owen.”  

Megan had continued blinking abashedly at the deck until the CEO’s extended hand breached the edge of her vision and, when it did, the waifish ensign’s shoulders slumped in relief and a breath to punctuate that feeling escaped her at the same time. “Ya c’n just call me Megan, sir… er Meg,” she offered, accepting the proffered hand and giving it a light shake as her eyes finally came up to meet Kennedy’s. She offered a shrug at those last words and rolled on; “Depends on who ya might be an’ yer preference, I s’pose. Either’s fine, sir.

Good ta meet ya, too, Commander Kennedy, innit?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “I dinnae know, Toch...er… Commander Zai’d slipped ‘er from ‘er linens, agin. S’pose I was jus’ surprised ta see ‘er undressed an’ lit up an’... an’ yessir, I do take a breath ever’ now an again… an’... an’...”

In a moment that rarely happened for her, Megan realized that she was rambling and still pumping Kennedy’s hand. “Feck me,” the girl sighed, letting go of the Commander’s hand, casting her eyes down once more, and flushing a little, her pale cheeks going pink as she sucked in a long swallow of air.

Callie took her hand back and laughed again.  “I’m out of uniform, you can drop the Commander… you can stick with Kennedy though, Megan.  And I’m not sure I believe you about taking a breath, but I suppose it doesn’t matter.”

“I s’pose no’,” Megan tittered, still somewhat nervously, “Mos’ other folk dinnae believe tha’, neither. An’, yessir, Kennedy it is, if ye insist, sir.”

Kennedy smirked and then looked around the ship and Megan’s gaze followed.  “Truth be told it was I who unveiled the sexy bitch.  Curiosity, cats and all of that… but I swear I never touched her without permission.  Zai was on board with working on her again, I think he’s wanted to… just needed a nudge…”  She gave Megan a warm smile.  “So are you familiar with her?” 

Megan smiled back just as warmly but there was a tinge of sadness lacing the expression, as well. “Aye,” the elfin girl nodded faintly, “I was th’ first ta fly ‘er, truth be told. Pro’lly weren’t th’ test flight Toch was truly hopin’ fer but…” She let the thought fall with that. 

Owen!  I knew that name… Kennedy cursed herself for a moment for not connecting the name with the ‘maiden flight’ of the Angel.  She winced a little bit.  “Sorry… it was a good flight from what I heard…” she said softly and gave the girl a sympathetic look.

It was all Megan could do to keep her face from screwing up into the ‘ugly cry’ thing when Kennedy said the words ‘good flight.’ It was, of course, and, at the same time, it wasn’t. The Angel had flown and staved off evil just like her namesake, of course, but that maiden flight had also seen Asovil sacrifice herself for the sake of the crew and, had Megan been able to have done anything to keep that from being so… well… 

She choked that thought down, too, and, trying to keep her smile bright and cheery, tilted her head toward the bridge. “Oh, she flew like she were a dream,” Megan swooned, “Whodathunk tha’ manual controls’d be sooo smooth. C’mon,” she turned her little feet in the direction of the bridge, “Did he show ye th’ analog FCS? JesusJosephan’Mary! Tha’s a thing ta b’hold… an’ fly! I’ll show ya.”

 When Megan moved on Kennedy went with it and let the smile pull back onto her face.  “I spied it, but honestly I haven’t really gotten up to my elbows in it yet.  You going to give me the grand tour of the FCS then?”  

The hatch whispered open in response to Megan entering her access code and, despite the sigh that whispered over her lips as she crossed the threshold, the tiny woman veritably skipped toward the Angel’s CONN.  Kennedy followed, smiling, glad to see that there were others on board the Peregrine who felt the same about the Angel as she was coming to feel, it gave the ship the potential for a brighter future.  When they got into the bridge Kennedy leaned up against one of the other station desks as Megan made her way to the command chair.

Megan grinned brightly at the CEO as she plopped herself into the seat and, as it spun her to the CONN, adjusted itself to her frame. A little hand reached forward, then, and cued in a command sequence that set the consoles to shifting about and the throttle and joystick emerged from their hiding places. “This,” the copper-tressed girl almost moaned as her hands settled on the analog controls, “is what flying is all about.”

Kennedy crossed her arms and grinned at her.  “I wouldn’t know.  Flying was never my thing.  But I get you.  I feel the same way about a well oiled warp drive.  Now that whole configuration and way it almost organically blooms around you… that’s very nice.  I said she’s a sexy bitch… and I meant it.  Starfleet could learn a thing or two about ship design from the Trill I think.”  

“Aye an’ fer shure, lass,” Megan concurred with a broad grin, “Jus’ like slippin’ between Risian silk sheets wi’out yer knickers on, innit?” She glanced back over her shoulder at the engineer then, an almost embarrassed expression on her face, Kennedy simply gave her a smile and small wink in return; “I mean… uh… I get yer analogy, Kennedy, but ya gotta give flyin’ a try a’least once. Especially in th’ Angel! Were we no’ at warp, I’d almost be tempted ta ask if ye wanted ta take ‘er out.”

Kennedy shook her head and gave off another small laugh.  “I’d really have to get Zai’s permission for that, and he’d need to take a good long look over my flight history before he did it.  I took some flight courses at the academy, let's just say I didn’t make a good impression.  Last time I tried piloting a shuttle I nearly took off the tail during landing.  I’m a grease monkey and I’m okay with it.  Maybe someday though… we’ll see.”  

The elfish ensign, first, visibly cringed and, then, giggled at Kennedy’s anecdote. “Well, luv,” she said, keying in the sequence to return the analog controls to their bays and turning back to face her, “Should ye e’er care fer a lesson, I’m yer lass, aye?”

Megan lounged, almost contentedly, in the CONN seat for a moment, seeming to relish in the way it cradled her. Then, as the brilliant grin spread back across her face, she leaned forward and pushed herself to her feet. “If ye don’ mind m’sayin, Kennedy,” she sighed, “I’m glad ya go’ Tochi ta open ‘er up, agin, poor memories aside. This bird deserves ta fly an’, sadness bein’ wha’ it is, it should’nae stop ‘er from spreadin’ ‘er wings.” 

Kennedy nodded and let her fingers trail over the console she leaned against, feeling the subtle way that the displays were set into the counter, then the perfect curve of the counter edge itself.  “Yes I agree with that whole heartedly.  I’ve only known her a day and I can tell she’s something special.  I might not be the one sitting in the pilots chair, probably safer, but I want to see her spread those wings out there amongst the stars…”  

Megan practically beamed at those words… Oh but this is gonna be a good’n fer Tochi, she thought, strolling back in Kennedy’s direction, an’ fer th’ Angel… “Seems ta me,”she observed, “ye;ve got ‘er a step closer to tha; vera thing, sir.” She clasped her hands behind her back then, and rocked back and forth between her heels and toes as her eyes darted about the ship for which she obviously shared an affection with the CEO. “Anythin’ I can help ya with? I’m a wee bent on studyin’ this evenin’, after all.”

“Well… before you kicked me.  I was working on the asymmetrical E-M couplings, seems they are all a bit cockeyed.  I’ll take a hand getting them wrangled…”  She pushed off the console, grinned and started back with Megan to where she had been working.  

“Aye,” Megan snickered, following in Kennedy’s footsteps, “ Asymmetrical’d lead ya ta tha’ assumption wouldn’ it?” She cowed a bit when the engineer flicked a glance back but her smile didn’t diminish. “Sorry… could’nae help m’self, there…”

Stardate 2365.05.15
USS Peregrine, Bridge - 1417

Captain Drake was studying a report on his PADD as the Peregrine fell out of warp.  He could feel the subtle variation in the ship's vibration, and so recognized that they had returned to sublight even before he took in the fact that the viewscreen had shifted.

"Captain, we have reached the Calican system," Commander Zai announced. 

Silas sat the PADD down.  "Thank you, Tochi," he responded.  "Lieutenant Ferrero, locate the navigational beacon, please, then relay the coordinates to the helm.  Once you have those, Tochi, take us there at one quarter impulse."

OOC: assuming affirmative replies...

Drake then keyed the communicator.  "Bridge to Engineering."

=/\=Engineering, Lieutenant Sa'eridon here.=/\= came the reply.

If the Captain had an issue with the fact that the CEO didn't reply, he did not display it.  "Lieutenant, we have reached the Calican system," he stated.  "We will transmit the ETA to you as soon as we have it; have your team ready for the repair operation."

=/\=Aye, Captain.  We are ready when you are,=/\= replied the aCEO. 

"Very good.  Drake out." he stated.

Glancing at the viewscreen, the Captain gave further instructions.  "Lieutenant Ferrero, once you have the beacon located, please perform a complete system scan.  It is my understanding that Calican II is the inhabited world here, and our beacon should be well beyond their detection range, but I would like to avoid any probes or similar devices that they may have deployed."

OOC: again, assuming an affirmative response...

"Very well," Silas mused.  "We will do this one by the book.  A hopefully rapid repair operation, then out of the system with absolutely no interference with the culture here - in full accordance with the Prime Directive."

Surely the Peregrine was due a simple task?

Stardate 2365.05.15 (Saturday)
U.S.S. Peregrine; Deck 1 - Bridge – 1417

Lieutenant Ferrero refrained from sighing as the hourly reports from his department melted together before his eyes. For the thousandth time since he’d joined Starfleet, he wondered how he had come to have this life. The screw-up kid that raised hell on the streets of Mexico City is now in charge of an entire ship operations department when all he’d really ever set out to do was avoid prison time. Tapping the index finger of his left hand against the thumb of the same, he counted out twenty-five impressions and then refocused. Wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue, the Latino watches the letters of the report unfold and reposition before his eyes, once again turning into legible words.

"Captain, we have reached the Calican system," Commander Zai announces effectively drawing the Ops officer’s attention to the viewscreen for just a moment. 

Silas sets the PADD down. "Thank you, Tochi," he responds. "Lieutenant Ferrero, locate the navigational beacon, please, then relay the coordinates to the helm. Once you have those, Tochi, take us there at one-quarter impulse."

“Aye, Captain,” Ander replies automatically. 

Pushing aside his reports, the COO proceeds to activate the scans. It is no surprise to him that the nav beacon shows up relatively quickly, emitting a Starfleet transponder signal. Cataloging the coordinates, Ferrero simultaneously sends them to Toshi’s station, including Tac just to be on the safe side. All of this takes place as Drake calls Engineering.

"Lieutenant, we have reached the Calican system," Captain Drake states with all the inflection of a Vulcan in Ander’s opinion, "We will transmit the ETA to you as soon as we have it; have your team ready for the repair operation."

Lt. Ferrero turns his attention to adjusting the scans, extending their range, and broadening their scope. Furrowing his brow at the initial results, he adjusts for ionic interference and mentally nods as the numbers begin to fall into normal ranges.

=/\= Aye, Captain. We are ready when you are, =/\= replies the aCEO. 

"Very good. Drake out," Captain Drake states. "Lieutenant Ferrero, once you have the beacon located, please perform a complete system scan. It is my understanding that Calican II is the inhabited world here, and our beacon should be well beyond their detection range, but I would like to avoid any probes or similar devices that they may have deployed."

“Aye, sir,” Ander replies with little inflection, his eyes already studying the results of his scans. If he were to be frank with himself, it isn’t that he anticipated Captain Drake’s orders so much as he’s just curious. A win is a win, however, and being ahead of the order is a feather in his cap. 

"Very well," Silas muses. "We will do this one by the book. A hopefully rapid repair operation, then out of the system with absolutely no interference with the culture here—in full accordance with the Prime Directive."

Ferrero’s scans return only one concern and he reports it immediately. “Captain, I believe that the Calican’s have launched a long-range satellite. I calculate that it will be within range of detecting our beacon within a few days. Three, to be more exact.”

Stardate 2365.05.15 (Saturday)
U.S.S. Peregrine; Deck 1 - Bridge – 1430

Stardate: 2365.05.15

USS Peregrine, Engineering - 1417

=^=Bridge to Engineering=^=

Sa’eridon tapped her comm badge and responded quickly to the Captain’s voice when it came over the computer.  She was in the process of returning her tools to the cabinet in Engineering after returning from turbolift one, another attempt to get the computer to correctly respond to voice commands.

“Engineering, Lieutenant Sa’eridon here.” 

=^=Lieutenant, we have reached the Calican system.  We will transmit the ETA to you as soon as we have it; have your team ready for the repair operation.=^=

“Aye, Captain.  We are ready when you are.” She nodded as she spoke, then stood up and closed the cabinet.  Go time.

Turning back to the engineering department she looked around at the others on duty, then she gave two claps of her hands, her tail already beginning to swish in anticipation of the mission. 

“Alright, Toporov, McGivern and Peers.  Gather up your tools, we’re heading to Shuttle Bay 1.  We should be within range to beam the beacon on board soon.  Kennedy put me in charge of this repair, so let’s do our best, I’d rather not have to call her in for help if we don’t have to.  Those of you left, keep her running smoothly please.”  

Sa’eridon went about gathering up the bag of supplies she had already prepped for this repair, a bit of a pep in her step.  She was glad, she reflected, that she had gone to Sick Bay last night.  As soon as her head had hit the pillow she had fallen asleep just as the nurse had promised and the deep sleep that followed it had been a much needed relief.  Today the headache was gone and she was ready for whatever came her way.  Karri hoped that she would run into Cook in the Aerie soon, so she could thank her for the care and maybe get to know her a little better. 

Stardate: 2365.05.14

USS Peregrine, Deck 5: Shuttle Bay 2 - Section M-13 - 1420

Commander Kennedy sat cross legged on one of the large storage containers in the Shuttlebay.  Behind her the Angel sat lit up, from her belly a sorrowful tune of drawn out lyrics and a fiddle sang out softly.  After a few of the heavier ballads that Kennedy had put on the speaker system for them to listen to while they worked Megan had finally convinced Kennedy to put on a group that hadn’t been dead for 300 years.  

They were now on a break, Megan was sprawled out comfortably on the storage container next to Kennedy’s, her PADD in one hand, a glass of tea in the other.  In front of Kennedy was Megan’s copy of Advanced Navigation, open to a page with several graphs regarding tri-axial spatial orientation, which she had been using to quiz the lass.

Kennedy took a large bite of the roast beef sandwich she had gotten for herself and was attempting to speak while chewing it.   “No deary… it’s not the Y axis that you need to get the telemetry aligned, well… sometimes… but not in this situation.  Not for what this book is asking about, or what they are going to ask you about on the test.”  

Megan groaned, dropped the PADD and rolled dramatically onto her back, her red hair spilling over the edge of the container.  “Bloody Hell!  I’ma ne’er gonna pass!”  

The older woman smirked a bit at the theatrics.  “You’ll pass.  I got a B.”  She shrugged.  

Megan raised an eyebrow and dropped her jaw.  “Ah B!?  An’ yer tryin’ te tutor me?”  

“I passed.  And look…” Kennedy gestured with the remaining half of her sandwich to where her rank was normally affixed to her collar, crumbs fell off the sandwich and littered the grey cardigan and the plain olive green t-shirt under it, she paid the crumbs no mind.  “Commander… trust me deary, you don’t have to be perfect at everything, you need to know enough to pass, enough to get in trouble… but you only have to be perfect at what you do.  I kicked the crap out of engineering classes, I can probably build you a navigation system from tin foil and whatever I find under the seats in a Antarian freighter.  But I’ll leave the flying up to you, and the helm up to someone else.

“Now… as for the Y-axis.  I came up with this little rhyme that I used to help me remember the order of precedence for telemetry…” 

Stardate 2365.05.15
USS Peregrine, Bridge - 1417

As the Nav panel winked for attention, Commander Zai glanced in its direction and, with a faint tip of his head and tap of a finger, acknowledged the message. The fingers on his other hand reached for the panel dedicated to engine control and dragged expertly across its surface, bringing the warp engines down. “Captain,” he announced as the Peregrine emerged from hyperspace, “we have reached the calican System.”

“Thank you, Tochi,” Drake responded.

“Our pleasure, sir,”  the Trill returned, his gaze lifting to the viewscreen to take in the expanse of stars, planets, and moons, there.

“Lt Ferrero,” Silas continued at Zai’s back, “locate the navigational beacon, please, and relay the coordinates to the helm.

Once you have those, Tochi, take us there at one quarter impulse.”

“Aye, Captain,” he chorused with the OPS Chief, bringing the Impulse Control System online.

Ferrero located the beacon in short order and shunted them to the CONN while Drake hailed engineering. Upon receiving the coordinates, Tochi cued them into the Nav panel, plotted a course, and made a few calculations. Behind him, the business-like bridge chatter continued…

"Lieutenant Ferrero, once you have the beacon located, please perform a complete system scan,” the Captain directed, ‘It is my understanding that Calican II is the inhabited world here, and our beacon should be well beyond their detection range, but I would like to avoid any probes or similar devices that they may have deployed."

“Aye, sir,” Ander replied with little inflection.

"Very well," Silas mused. "We will do this one by the book. A hopefully rapid repair operation, then out of the system with absolutely no interference with the culture here—in full accordance with the Prime Directive."

“Captain,” the COO piped in almost immediately, “I believe that the Calican’s have launched a long-range satellite. I calculate that it will be within range of detecting our beacon within a few days. Three, to be more exact.”

Should give us plenty of time, Tochi figured, wondering if some consideration might be given to possibly finding a way to cloak the beacon before they left system.

...His calculations complete and course laid in, Tochi pushed the impulse engines up to the requested velocity. “Engaging at one quarter impulse,” he reported, “ETA to the nav-beacon: eighteen-point-two-three minutes.” The view on the main screen panned as Peregrine slid smoothly on to his plotted course.

((OOC: The ETA is based on a few assumptions I made as to the beacon’s distance from our arrival point. If 18 minutes and change seems too long or too short a time, let me know and I’ll gladly change.))

Stardate 2365.05.15
USS Peregrine, Deck 4, Science Department - 1435

Science Officer Eilal stood over a monitor, poring over the data included. The Deltan's normally reserved expression was actually in a state that one could reasonably describe as "excitement".

"Lieutenant," he spoke to Ch'ronnoss, "this is superb. To date, I have only been able to locate data for the Calican system as provided by the initial survey vessel. When the crew determined that the second planet contained intelligent life, they left the system to prevent any cultural contamination. As a result, the data was limited to the most broad stokes, only." His violet eyes practically sparkled in delight. "The level of sensor data being collected fills in a great many of those gaps. There is fascinating study to be done!"

There is was. An actual, genuine smile made its way onto the Ensign's features. "Sir, with your permission, I would very much like to delve into this system data. This is my area of expertise, after all, and my current assignments are all up to date."

OOC: assuming a positive response...

The smile broadened. "Excellent!" Eilal exclaimed. "I will utilize the terminal in laboratory two. If you have need of me, I will be there."

Stardate 2365.05.15
USS Peregrine, Bridge - 1418

Captain Drake pinched the bridge of his nose at Lieutenant Ferrero's pronouncement.  How could it be that a planet that had barely begun floating satellites and visiting their own moon had managed to launch a probe THIS far from their world, let alone one capable of detecting the Federation equipment? 

"Understood, Lieutenant Ferrero," Drake answered.  "It seems that we have underestimated the technical capabilities of the Calicans.  We will need to work carefully to avoid detection, and we will need to figure out a way to either shield the beacon from the probe... or, more likely, we'll need to consider moving it to a safer location."

"Engaging at one quarter impulse," Tochi reported, "ETA to the nav-beacon: eighteen-point-two-three minutes." The view on the main screen panned as Peregrine slid smoothly onto the CFCO's plotted course.

Silas wondered if moving the beacon would require an update to the beacon's software.  While he was far from an expert on navigation beacons, it would stand to reason that such a device would intentionally maintain a steady position relative to a given star.  If the position was changed, it would seem that programming might need to be updated, lest the beacon try to reposition itself back to the orginal coordinates. 

"Bridge to Engineering," the Captain hailed.

=/\=Engineering, Sa'eridon here, =/\= came the reply.

"Lieutenant, it seems that we may need to consider repositioning the beacon once repairs are completed.  If that does prove to be the case, we may need to look at updating the programming on it - be advised that this task may also await you."

=/\=Understood, sir.=/\=

Drake nodded.  "Thank you, Drake out."

A slight frown crossed the Captain's face.  "Lieutenant Ferrero, give me an in depth scan of the Calican probe, please.  I'd like a better idea of the type of sensor range it enjoys, as well as the overall capabilities."

OOC: assuming a positive response...

He then turned to the Ops console.  "Lieutenant Taissud," he spoke, "we are operating under the assumption that the beacon has malfunctioned due to simple mechanical failure.  While it seems pointless for a hostile power to simply meddle with a deep space beacon, I want to be sure that our eyes are open.  Scan the area carefully, just to ensure that there are no unpleasant surprises."

OOC: again, assuming orders will be followed...

Finally, Drake keyed the intercom again.  "Drake to Ch'ronnoss."

OOC: assuming the CSO responds...

"Lieutenant," the Captain spoke, "we have discovered an unexpected probe from the Calicans.  I'd like your insight into their technology, and any other input you'd care to share."

OOC: softballs all around!

Stardate 2365.05.15
USS Peregrine, Bridge - 1418

Standing at attention to the left of the Tactical console, Zhay-la oversaw little more excitement than she had expected for this drop from warp; orders from the captain, contact with the line departments, preliminary scans and further plans being put into motion. For a first assignment back, the Peregrine had it quite easy.

The presence of the probe was unexpected, but unless that thing was packing missiles, Tactical was rather obsolete in this operation. At the least Drake threw them a bone with ordering for additional scans and eyes on the situation.

Affirming her involvement with a simple "Yes, sir," Zhay-la turned to Lt. Reid, pleased to see him already commencing a thorough sweep of Starfleet's database for informaton on the native Calicans. The CTO did her part in combing over the material, parsing specifically for any intel on their military tech; wondering in the back of her mind how many systems her ancestos had visited and found a species in the prepubescent stage of space exploration, while the Orions themselves no longer innovated for how long their time in the stars had been.

"Have PO. Wright comb over this upon shift rotation," she ordered to Reid. "I want a dossier for the Calican system by the end of alpha shift. Consult Science if you need to."

Turning away from the console, Zhay-la hailed Security.

=/\=Tactical and Security, for all your phaser and brig needs,=/\= Blomstedt answered cheekily.

"Crewman, inform Petty Officer Shaw that she will be inspecting our weapons systems personally for gamma shift, damn the schedule," Zhay-la commanded. "I want Engineering apprised of the slightest misalignment before contact is made with the beacon."

=/\=Yes, Lieutenant Taissud,=/\= was the more demure response from the Security specialist.

At the drop in contact, Zhay-la turned round to the viewscreen once more. She wasn't waiting with bated breath for an encounter with the Klingon empire this far out in deep space, but the least she could do here was be at the ready. Now to wait and see.

Stardate: 2365.05.15

USS Peregrine, Engineering - 1418

=^=Bridge to Engineering=^=

Sa’eidron paused on her way out of engineering when she heard the Captain’s voice again.  She made a motion to the rest of her crew to go ahead and move along toward the shuttlebay without her.  

“Engineering, Sa’eridon here.” she spoke into her comm badge. 

=^=Lieutenant, it seems that we may need to consider repositioning the beacon once repairs are completed.  If that does prove to be the case, we may need to look at updating the programming on it - be advised that this task may also await you.=^=

“Understood, sir.” She made a small wince and then stepped out into the corridor and let engineering close up behind her.  Programming the beacon might require her to call on Adler, which she didn’t want to do, but in the end it was going to have to happen eventually.  Today, after the night's rest, might not be the worst day to do it.  She’d rather call on Adler then have to call Kennedy up.  

=^=Thank you, Drake out.=^=

Contemplating what might need to be done to get the programming done she quickened her step so she could catch up with her team on the way to the shuttlebay.  

USS Peregrine, Shuttlebay 1 - 1420

“Alright crew.  We might need to reprogram the beacon too to change its position.  So let’s not sit around on our thumbs while we wait for it to show up.  Toporov, if you could check with the helm, see what the ETA is.  Peers go ahead and man the transporter station, be ready to go when we get the coordinates.”  Sa’eirdon commanded and then found a place to stand and go over the specs on her PADD a final time before the beacon showed up.  

“Yes sir…”  Toporov spoke up and then proceeded to follow her orders. 

((OOC:  I assume helm reports the the time frame that has already been mentioned in previous posts))

Stardate 2365.05.15
USS Peregrine, Bridge - 1418

"Lieutenant Taissud," Drake spoke, "we are operating under the assumption that the beacon has malfunctioned due to simple mechanical failure.  While it seems pointless for a hostile power to simply meddle with a deep space beacon, I want to be sure that our eyes are open.  Scan the area carefully, just to ensure that there are no unpleasant surprises."

"Yes, sir," Zhay-la turned to Lt. Reid, “Have PO. Wright comb over this upon shift rotation," she ordered to Reid. "I want a dossier for the Calican system by the end of alpha shift. Consult Science if you need to."

 “Lieutenant, the analysis is on your PADD, I had already reviewed the data available in the Star Fleet archives on Calican. Although it is not much due the need to remind distant to preserve the Prime Directive; you will see that as stated they have barely advanced in space flight. Solid and liquid fuels, just enough to reach their own moon.”

Turning away from the console, Zhay-la hailed Security.

=/\=Tactical and Security, for all your phaser and brig needs,=/\= Blomstedt answered cheekily.

Reid winced, “I need to review protocol with the new staff when manning the watch,” he mused.

"Crewman, inform Petty Officer Shaw that she will be inspecting our weapons systems personally for gamma shift, damn the schedule," Zhay-la commanded. "I want Engineering apprised of the slightest misalignment before contact is made with the beacon."

=/\=Yes, Lieutenant Taissud,=/\= was the more demure response from the Security specialist.

Reid continuing, ”If they have been able to reach our probe I would speculate that others have been giving them more advanced tec. The pirates out here would readily trade for ores and others item that the Calican would not know their true value…We recently had an incident with the Kulder and Rytain over dilthium. Our sweeps need to check for even Romulan activity as we are not terribly far from the Neutral Zone…. Mister Blackmon and Chief Brooks are heading this investigation.”

Zhay-la turned round to the viewscreen once more.

Stardate: 2365.05.15 (Saturday)

USS Peregrine, Deck 5 - Gymnasium - 1225 - 1409

Dana had risen early after getting a few hours of much-needed sleep.  She then grabbed a quick protein drink in the mess, before heading straight to the Gym for her workout. 

She found the gym mostly empty at this hour, with only a couple people working out with weights.  They looked like security personnel to her; she had seem them here a lot, but when she worked out she often did not talk to anyone, or they did not talk to her.

Dana grabbed a towel, and started out on a treadmill; starting slowly to warm up for a few minutes, then increasing her speed until she was running at a brisk pace.  She had her PADD resting on the treadmill control panel, where she could read while she ran.  Often, like today, she read medical journals dealing with new medications, and new treatments in xenobiology.  Human treatments and anatomy was very familiar to her, so she spent a lot of time learning about the anatomy and treatments suitable for all of the other non-human species.  There was not much new on human as their anatomy has been known for centuries, but alien species are a big part of the Federation and she was constantly learning more every day it seemed.

After running her usual 10k, she went into a cool down period for a few minutes until eventually she turned off the treadmill.  Grabbing her towel, she wiped herself off as she made her way over to her gym bag and sat on a nearby bench.  After a few minutes of cooling down, she pulled out a roll of white tape and began to wrap it around her hands and wrists.  Her wrapping completed, she put the tape back into her bag, and pulled out a bottle of water and downed about half of it before rising and heading over to the Heavy Bag in a corner. 

Dana spent the next 20 mins working on her combinations and jabs on the bag.  The Gym had gained a few more participants over the time she had been here.  However, it being the middle of the workday, and them coming up on a mission soon, there were not many here today.  She usually ignored the other people in the gym.  A couple of men were working on the weights, and glancing over at the Head Nurse of the ship.  While she seemed to be doing her best to destroy the Heavy bag, as rivulets of sweat ran down her body.

She finished with a barrage of heavy blows, before stopping suddenly and almost collapsing before hanging onto the bag to keep her feet.  She breathed heavily for a good minute, before she straightened and walked over to her bag, where she collapsed to sit on the bench.  Dragging her water bottle from her bag with arms that seemed barely able to lift it to her lips, where she drank deeply.  

After a few minutes of rest, she got to her feet, draped the bag over her shoulder she left the gym headed for her quarters and a hot shower.  Afterwards she planned to head over to the Aerie and see about having a late lunch; she wondered if she might run into that Caitian Lieutenant there.  Not having any real friends left after the losses and the departure of PO Crane, Dana would not mind talking to someone now and then, though she was not sure what she could talk about to anyone.

Stardate 2365.05.12
U.S.S. Peregrine; Deck 5 - Gymnasium – 0655

Lieutenant Amris Veen, wearing his customary dark grey gi, was sitting in a position the humans called seiza on the tatami mats in the martial arts corner of the Gymnasium. His legs were folded underneath his thighs, ankles straight and one big toe was on top of the other. His hands, resting in his laps, formed an open cup. His back was naturally straight and his shoulders were relaxed. Amris was breathing in through his nose and exhaling through his mouth. There was a short, perhaps 10 second pause in the middle on every breath. The LCARS on the nearby walls would’ve told anyone watching that his pulse and blood pressure were very low, very much as if he was sleeping. But there was no one watching. The Doc had the gym all for himself, for now.

Instead of music, there was an ambient world of rainforest and sea sounds playing softly in the background in the Gymnasium. Deep in his meditation, Amris could imagine the shores of his hometown Garah in the Southeastern Andorian valley on the Khazaradian continent. The smell of the salty water came with the sound of the softly crashing waves. The beautiful soft mewing cries of Flanarians flying above mixed with the chirps of the local eight-legged red and white crickets. Every now and then there was a hoot or two from the primates that lived in the tall forests surrounding the city. And whomever had put together the track, had also added some howls of Wanani hounds into the background.

The pulse on the screen rose slightly and a smile formed on the Betazed’s face. Oh how he loved the place. Loved and missed. The sounds, the smells, the views. He missed the architecture, the lights, the clothes. And especially he missed the stars, which was somewhat strange for someone who’s life was spent mostly amongst the innumerable suns of the Universe. But he longed for seeing certain stars; the ones that were visible from his terrace bed of his quarters on the 17th floor of the House Veen Palace. 

What he had no real desire to see really were the people of Betazed, or more precisely his people; his family, servants, guards, acquaintances. It was another contradicting feature in the Lieutenant. He loved people of all species, of all colour, size and shape. There were few things in life that intrigued Amris more than meeting new people and and few things in life that made him more happy than conversing with friends and colleagues. But despite of the image his own people had on the outside; the kindness and helpfulness and caring, which all were true, there was constant scheming, negotiating and even backstabbing (mostly business-wise) under the surface. Especially the lower houses, the ones not allowed to participate in the Council’s meetings and of which House Veen was the highest in order, sometimes fought in the shadows of the business and bureaucratic world for fame, standing and better opportunities. 

Just thinking about it broke Amris’s reverie and made his heart beat faster. It was simply disgusting. There was rarely any violence amongst the Betazoids, let alone homicide, …at least in public. While not quite the paradise the Risian homeworld Risa was, Betazed was still a stunning place filled with love and joy. And it was most certainly one of the safest places in the Universe, as long as one knew the dangers hidden in its wilderness. But the Betazed were not angles or perfect creatures. While they were able to sense the emotions of those around them, they still had petty thoughts, felt jealousy, anger, hatred and fear. And as they couldn’t show those in the public, the worst of Amris’s kind acted in the cover of darkness to hurt others.

The doctor emptied his lungs with a deep exhale and tried to regain his composure, but at that very moment the door between the gym and its changing room swooshed open. There was no chime in the door or at least he didn’t register one, but the sound of the opening door brought Amris back to reality. The ambience was broken by a bellowing laughter the Doc knew well. Whenever he heard it, he had a hard time resisting laughing himself. Even now the gloomy thoughts in his mind were wiped away immediately. 

Pieter! 

Just to challenge himself, Amris kept his eyes closed and tried to recognise the other person in Pieter’s company from their voice and the emotions they radiated around them. The other person was definitely feeling happy too, but the emotion was somehow “quieter” than Pieter’s. And when the person stepped inside the gym and noticed Amris, the happiness dwindled down almost into nothingness. Yet no other emotion took its place. A Vulcan then… Must be Toriak. The Doctor hadn’t learned to know Crewman Toriak very well as of yet and couldn’t recognise the Yeoman with absolute certainty based on his emotions alone. So he opened his black eyes and found himself looking directly at the the Vulcan’s chiseled face.

“Chief Veen… I apologise for disturbing your meditation. Mr. Postma and I were not aware of your presence in the gymnasium. Would you like us to come another time?” The Vulcan stands in almost attention at the doorway while Pieter walks past him with a laugh. 

“Naah, Toriak. Amris won’t mind. Just come on in and do whatever you came here to do. I’ll just head to the weights.” Walking towards the weight racks, the huge Dutch human threw up one hand as if he just remembered something and stopped in his tracks. The lab tech turned halfway around and gave the Betazoid a wave. “Hey boss, I thought you had the day off? What’re you doin’ up so early?”

It was Amris’s turn to chuckle. He waved away Pieter’s question and nodded to the Yeoman. “Yes, you can take Pieter’s word for it, Mr. Toriak. I do not mind.” He took a long breath and without using his hands, stood up. Amris rolled his shoulders a couple of times and beckoned with his hand for the Yeoman to enter. “Do come in. Please. I have already completed my morning meditation, but I would reserve the tatami for another 15 to 30 minutes, if that is ok with you?

Toriak nodded in agreement. “As your exercise has begun before mine, Sir, it would only be logical for it to be completed first as well.”

This time Amris was prepared and swallowed the chuckle trying to make its way out of his mouth. He tried his best to keep a straight face and returned the nod. “Agreed.”

To a person uninitiated in martial arts, the Lieutenant’s kata as the earthlings would’ve called the solo exercise comprised of a specific sequence of pre-arranged movements, would probably have brought to mind a Japanese martial art called Karate. There were however some subtle differences: in Tanae the kicks and the strikes were slightly softer and the movements were clearly more defensive in nature than in Karate. The kata lasted for 10 or so minutes and was followed by another 15 minutes of exercise with a wooden practice sword Amris had brought in with him. The weapon kata was very precise and used a lot of body motion to give strength to strikes and blocks against an invisible opponent. 

Lt Veen preferred “fighting shadows” in the gym over the holodeck and real opponents. Although he was clearly very skilled in what he was doing, Amris was training more for himself than a possible hand-to-hand combat situation. In fact he had only been forced to rely on his self defence -skills once in his life. Even then Amris could’ve used his telepathic abilities instead to force the Orion in his drunken stupor into submission. But he had considered the situation not to be dangerous enough to justify using the powers of his mind. The situation hadn’t really been life-threatening and after a simple block, twist and lock, he had been able to leave the scene without being hurt or hurting anything but the Orion’s pride.

Once he was done, Amris picked up his gear and moved to the side. “Computer, run the tatami cleaning procedure.”

=^= Executing. =^= 

=^= Please step away from the hand-to-hand combat training area for the duration of the cleaning. =^=

=^= Area clear. =^=  

=^= Commencing. =^= 

There was a quiet, high-pitched whirring sound as the tatami mats dropped down about 20 centimetres. They were then swept to the side under the floor only to be replaced by a fresh, clean set. Ten seconds later everything was back to normal and a cleaned training area was once again ready for the next training session.

Going through his customary could down and post-workout stretching, Amris watched the other men go about their personal exercising programs. He was happy to see Postma being accepted by Toriak with seemingly no reservation. Of course the Yeoman was a Vulcan. The Doc had not expected otherwise. And out of them four, Pieter was probably the one who was the easiest to accept. Or in fact, Crewman Postma didn’t generally accept a no for answer when he had made up his mind to become friends with someone. The Dutchman wasn’t rude, far from it. But any excuses people might give, even blunt ones, he totally ignored. The man seemed to have some kind of an invisivble duranium shield, that deflected all bad moods or nasty remarks completely. 

Oh how he loved Pieter.

 Stardate 2365.05.15
USS Peregrine; Deck 5, CTO’s office - 0340

An eventful day it was not for the newly minted Tactical chief. Aside from standing on the bridge for launch, Zhay-la had been wholly uninvolved in the proceedings of the day. Reid had impressed with his efficiency at the console for alpha shift, and surveying Brooks and T’Darin’s reports from her office had proven their track records for dependability truthful. She had no complaints of her officers’ performance, no distress calls to answer to the bridge, and no extenuating circumstances to intervene in.

In other words, a boring day.

To that end, it was a mystery to the Orion herself why she was still awake at this hour. Rotations for guard duty had gone off without a hitch hours earlier, and it wasn’t as though there were prisoners on launch day - even if having some officers to throw in the brig would be entertaining for such a low-intensity day, in Zhay-la’s opinion.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Zhay-la let out a sigh. She was up-to-date on reports, had logged her hours on bridge, spoken with officers as they became available, even had time to polish her knife collection and arrange them by creation date; little left to be done besides sleeping at this point.

And to think she had all this free time tomorrow as well…

Cursing whoever thought launching on her off days was a good idea, the Orion stood in a huff, gathering a PADD and powering down her office’s lights with a command. She nearly collided with the door in her stormy escape, nodding curtly to Tabaek and Domms outside the armoury, before B-lining it to the holodeck.

“Computer,” she called out to the disembodied voice, “rez up program eighty from Taissud Alpha Nine, and increase the difficulty.”

=/\=Program eighty, difficulty: deadly. Attention: Lt. Commander Zai has reserved the holodeck from Zero-Four-Hundred to Zero-Five-Thirty.=/\= the synthetic voice replied.

“Put a timer on for twenty minutes then,” the lieutenant replied. “I need to beat my personal best anyways.”

Forgoing returning to her room for activewear, Zhay-la made do with stripping off her uniform, leaving her in shorts and a sports bra. Any more clothing than this and she would be suffocating, with how thick Starfleet insisted on their fabrics being. Not to mention the reinforced shoulder pads restricting movement. What she wouldn’t give for some decent armour plating to be added to her uniform.

Stashing her clothing and phaser in a locker, Zhay-la could already feel her nerves dissipating as she stepped onto the holodeck. The program made quick work of transforming the sterile room into a lush jungle. Wildlife squawked, rainfall pattered on the canopy above, and Zhay-la immediately felt more at home amongst the tropical humidity and plant life. She never could say she missed the Orion homeworld, but for all its faults, it still was her birthplace. And humidity agreed more with her constitution.

She strode to the centre of the room, focusing her breathing and mind into what would come next. Eyes closed, she drank in the sounds of the forest around her before picking up the footfalls to her left.

Forty feet…

Rolling her shoulders, she planted her feet firmly into the ground, enjoying the synthesized feeling of dirt between her toes.

Thirty feet…

Breath evening out, she fell into a defensive stance.

Twenty feet…

Zhay-la didn’t bother with suppressing the smile on her face, adrenaline shooting through her.

Ten feet…

No thought save for combat flew through her mind when Zhay-la turned to meet the beast of the Orion jungle, using its momentum to fling it across the clearing. All irritation with her day melted away as she watched the beast right itself, growl low at her. The bridge, launch day, all concerns bled from her mind when she joined the beast in circling the clearing, roaring in tandem for a good fight.

Stardate 2365.05.15
USS Peregrine; Deck 5, Holodeck - 0359

Drawing up to the holodeck, Tochi took note of the fact that, despite the computer’s assertion to the contrary, a short time ago, that it was unoccupied, someone was currently engaged with a program within. A sigh puffed past his lips and, for an instant, he considered abandoning his initial plan and backtracking to the gym but, following a second glance at the console mounted beside the door, he took note of the name of the program currently running… Taissud Alpha Nine, he read, Program eighty. Difficulty: Deadly.

His brows lifted in curiosity and his hand came up to stroke the stubble at his chin as his gaze turned to the door. From inside came the sound of a bestial shriek and roar which was overshadowed only by a nearly feral scream. He considered letting the program run uninterrupted to its conclusion but, in the end, inquisitiveness got the upper hand and he keyed in an override sequence that would allow him entrance to the currently running simulation without disrupting it. Once the code was entered, the door squelched away before him and he stepped into a lush and humid jungle which Odia’s memories immediately associated with Orion’s rainforests. He tugged the blade from his kit, slung it over a shoulder, and dropped the remainder of the duffel by the door before venturing further in toward the sounds of conflict.

After a few moments of navigating through the underbrush and weaving around the dew-laden limbs that reached down from the canopy, he found his way to the top of a boulder that huddled on the edge of a clearing in which Zhay-la and a truly monstrous beast he couldn’t readily identify did battle. He sat there for what seemed like a good while, his chin resting on the pommel of his rapier as he watched, in rapt fascination, the fight ebb and flow. One minute the monster seemed to have the Orion woman on her heels but, an instant and a practiced maneuver later, Zhay-la, armed with little more than a dagger and, clad in perhaps less than her underclothes, had turned the tables on the creature and was opening up wound after wound in it’s leathery hide, spilling it’s blood into the already oversaturated jungle floor. When she had, at last, dispatched  the beast and knelt, clutching her blade and breathing heavily beside the fallen form, Tochi began clapping slowly in appreciation of her skill and effort.

“Well done, Lieutenant,” he nodded when, with no small amount of surprise, she took note of his applause and her seeking gaze found him atop the rock at the edge of the clearing, “Quite impressive! Do you always battle beasts for breakfast or is it just an end of week thing?”

Zhay-la could barely hear Tochi over the pounding of her heart in her ears, and it took a moment to catch enough of her breath to speak. “Sentimental reasons, sir,” she retorted. “I miss beast blood beneath my nails.” Standing to her feet, she sheathed her dancerknife and swiped awkwardly at digital blood on her abdomen. “I believe you reserved the holodeck for… now, I’m guessing? Allow me to get out of your way.”

“You’re not in our way, Zhay-la,” the Trill responded from behind a dry smile as he slipped down from his perch on the rock, “In fact, that was quite something to witness. I should have known, when I first saw your collection of blades, that they were for more than just decoration.”

He strode into the clearing, paused briefly to get a closer look at the felled monstrosity, and then continued on toward the winded green-skinned woman. Stopping at what he hoped was a respectful distance, he spiked a brow inquisitively. “Do you only fight holo-beasts, Lieutenant,” he asked, “or would you entertain the notion of sparring with a flesh and blood opponent?”

“You’re joking,” Zhay-la deadpanned.

“I’m not,” Tochi smirked, tapping at the ground between them with the tip of his blade, “It was a serious inquiry. It’s been quite a while since I’ve tested myself against more than a hologram or three.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re odd, Commander?” she replied, gesturing to her surroundings. “It’s four in the morning and you find me wrestling a pak’henda in my skivvies and challenge me to a duel?” Eyeing him suspiciously, Zhay-la crossed her arms and retorted sardonically, “Is this some kind of test?”

Tochi chuckled at that first question and nodded in response. “Odd, glitchy, strange,” he confirmed, “and likely worse, to be honest.” Absently, he carved a line in the jungle floor between them with the point of his rapier and met her gaze levelly. “And, no; no test, just a genuine offer.” He shrugged, then, a somewhat weary smile playing over his features. “It doesn’t have to be right now, of course,” he suggested, the tip of his blade gesturing at the pak’henda,  “We’re fairly sure that that took quite a bit out of you. The offer stands, though. Consider it an open invitation.”

A scoff was the response Tochi received. “Don’t count me out just yet, Commander,” Zhay-la challenged, moving to stand in front of the Trill, separated still by the line in the dirt. 

“The thought never crossed my mind,” he grinned.

“Even if this isn’t some kind of test, you’ll find that I’ll surpass your expectations in combat.”

“And, we’re sure that you’ll find we have no expectations,” Tochi quipped in return, his fingers flexing around the rapier’s hilt, “nor do I ever underestimate an opponent.”

She unholstered her dancerknife, giving it a once over. “So, what are the terms of this ‘duel’ to be?”

A slow rolling of his shoulders passed for a shrug. “Well, when I initially reserved the holodeck, this morning,” he confessed, “my intent was simply to… work through some ‘frustration’, shall we say? So, I didn’t show up with any particular terms in mind. What do you propose?”

“Something minus that fancy poker you’ve got,” the Orion replied. “What even is that good for? Moving logs in a fire?”

“Or roasting marshmallows over one, perhaps,” the Trill laughed.

He considered his blade for a moment, then turned his eyes to the smaller weapon she held in her hand before framing her face in his sight, once more. “You’d prefer I consider a smaller blade, then,” he asked, “or are you suggesting we forego weapons altogether and make this a hand-to-hand affair?”

Cracking knuckles reverberated through the jungle. “Sounds good to me,” Zhay-la said. To make her point further, she tossed the knife out of the clearing and raised her arms in a guard position.

With a bemused grin and a scant nod in acceptance of the ‘terms’, Tochi turned, rested his rapier against the boulder upon which he had sat, watching her fight the pak’henda, stripped off his own shirt and tossed it, too, on the rock, before turning to stride back toward the waiting woman… Why do we get the feeling we just asked to have our ass kicked? a chorus of voices sounded in his mind even as he grinned and, shaking blood into his hands, jandered back toward the line that Zhay-la had yet to cross… Drawing up to that line, his fingers curled, not quite into fists but almost, and, he bounced on the balls of his feet for a moment before settling into a ready stance. In the wake of a grin and a playful wink, Tochi extended a hand, palm up, and made a gesture to beckon her forward. Come and get some…

At the sight of her superior officer shirtless, Zhay-la’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Not bad, she surmised, following the trail of purple spots down Tochi’s torso, taking in the correct positioning of his stance and the eagerness in his dancing feet. She rolled her eyes at his cavalierness with the baiting gesture and wink, while smothering a smile of her own.

“First to three,” she proposed. “If you’re knocked on your back, that’s a point.” She smoothed down some flyaway hairs, balled her hands into fist, and took a step towards the line, waiting for Tochi’s response.

“Sounds reasonable,” Tochi acquiesced with the scantest bobbing of his head. “Shall we dance?” he grinned just before his gaze slipped away from her eyes and focused, instead, on a point just below her collarbone; the subtle muscle movements, there, would telegraph a planned strike long before it might register in her eyes. “Ladies first,” he smirked.

You’ve done it now, Zhay-la thought to herself, eyebrows furrowing at the XO’s seeming flippancy. He was charming, she’d give him that, but she wanted to see how serious he could take things, here and now.

At the drop in eye contact, her impression of Tochi improved a bit; tactical choice to look at that telegraphing spot. Here’s hoping he learned to look lower when it came to her…

Zhay-la ran for it, diving feet-first across the line, aiming to get her legs around Tochi’s and to drop him.

Frill! Zhay-la’s attempted sweep was an aggressive opening maneuver and, admittedly, not one he had been entirely prepared for. As her legs sought to sweep his at both knee and ankle, Tochi skipped backward, managing to avoid the full effect of the move but, still, it had consequences. She had missed her goal of entangling both of his legs but still managing to snare one.

He fought the instinct to resist the buckling of that knee, though, and, instead, allowed himself to roll into the momentum. His free leg swept around in a wide arc as he fell, his foot whispering past her face as he spun and threw out his hands to keep from ending up on his back so soon in the fight. “Nice,” he breathed, working now to free his trapped leg from between hers.

A grunt was the reply he received, as Zhay-la put all of her core strength into dragging Tochi towards her, aiming to knock him off balance.

She’s a strong one, Tochi thought, struggling to keep from being forced onto his back as she tugged and twisted at his leg. 

The slickness of the jungle floor didn’t help much where maintaining his balance was concerned, either, and, between that and her efforts, he was left with very few options that wouldn’t involve actually hurting the hard-hitting Orion… or dislocating our own knee… and, so, he relented. His hands let go of the underbrush as he wrenched himself around, delivering a light tap of a kick to her buttock in mock defiance before his back thudded against the floor.

“That’s one for you,” the Trill chuffed.

 Confidence shot through Zhay-la at Tochi’s surrender, flaming out the indignation at the contact with her ass. She released his leg, standing back to her feet with a smirk. “You talk too much,” she offered in constructive, if lighthearted criticism. 

“So we’ve heard,” Tochi chuckled before kicking himself up to his feet, “Mostly from you, but we have heard it.”

Settling back behind the line, arms at the ready, Zhay-la looked to the Trill. “Ready?” 

He paced his side of the line as he dusted himself off and shook the tension from his leg. Once again, he bounced on the balls of his feet before settling into a ready stance, albeit with a slightly more aggressive posture… Are you?

There was no self-confident smirk or coy quip from him, this time; only the settling of his gaze on that nether-point on her chest, once more, and the measured release of a breath. Then, perhaps, far more suddenly than she might have expected, Tochi was in motion. 

He feinted a low-line kick that, for a split second, caused her stance to narrow. As she sought to reclaim her center of gravity in the wake of that feigned strike, his lead hand lashed out toward her face; the flicker-jab slipping past her guard and culminating with his fingertips flashing just before her now wide grey eyes.

Unsettled at the quickness of it all, Zhay-la simultaneously batted away the hand before her face and tried to backpedal in an attempt to open the gap between herself and the Trill. It was then that she realized, following the ruse of Tochi’s first kick, his foot had come down atop hers and had it pinned to the jungle floor, preventing any sort of strategic retreat. Her mind had yet to completely register the maneuver and adapt a tactical response before Tochi had twisted his hip forward, releasing her foot, and the heel of his trailing hand had come around to land a solid (if somewhat restrained) blow to her solar plexus. 

The breath whoosed from her lungs, Zhay-la staggered back a step or two, and then registered that the Trill had disappeared from her sight. She understood why when she felt his leg sweep her’s from under her, though, and, just that quick, found herself looking up at him from the jungle’s undergrowth.

“Less talking,” Tochi grinned, a hand extended, offering to help her back to her feet, “Good advice. 

That’s one for us. Yes?”

This time Zhay-la let out a curse in her native tongue. “Disarmingly charming,” my ass, she thought. This one’s dangerous.

Innate Orion stubbornness had often been the deciding factor between failure and victory for Zhay-la; her species as a whole had explored the stars and continued to plunder and pillage their riches as much because of tenacity as technological innovation. It had been no different for her between the training she underwent on Orion in this exact scenario - naked and fighting for her life against pak’henda in the jungle - than when she pushed her application through for the Peregrine’s roster, and both times it yielded if not optimal, then at least satisfactory results. Why that mattered now was simple; Zhay-la felt the urge to grit her teeth and dig her heels in this fight, whether it was a friendly spar with her XO or not, and she would be obeying that survival instinct.

Hauling herself into a sitting position, Zhay-la matched the friendly air Tochi exuded naturally, extending a hand to his outstretched one. She allowed him to pull her to her feet, mildly surprised at his strength, and gave him a split second to watch her expression turn from smiling into something dangerous.

Reaching around with her free hand, Zhay-la grabbed the waistband of Tochi’s pants, gripping his forearm with the other. Then she threw her full weight into a controlled fall, leg slipping between the Trill’s, effectively putting her momentum downwards into all the right places; as she landed on her back and released, Tochi sailed over her, landing a couple feet to her left, sprawled on his back, thoroughly dazed.

“Two to one,” the Orion declared smugly, rolling to her knees.

By the Ancestors, Tochi groaned inwardly, blinking up at the lush canopy of the holographic Orion jungle, that stung a bit. I think we may have upset her. He lay there for a moment, trying to reclaim the wind that had been forced from him by the impact. Did she say best two out of three, he pondered, or was it first to three? Please, let it be the former.

Finally, with a soft grunt, the Trill got back on his feet and turned his gaze to the haughtily grinning woman. He offered an appreciative nod and, rolling his shoulders to ease the ache in his back, padded back in her direction. “We weren’t expecting that,” he smirked, “Well done.”

“You left yourself wide open, sir,” Zhay-la commented, keeping a respectful distance in case he was planning a recourse attack. “Continue to leave your guard down and you can expect more from where that came from.”

Maybe she was toeing the line here - heavens knew she rarely could tell in social situations - but even a sparring session like this was something Zhay-la took seriously. Being an assassin taught her better than Starfleet ever could that not just expecting, but being prepared for the unexpected could mean the difference between life and death.

Being an assassin also taught her to place her trust carefully. Even if Zai wasn’t testing her intentionally, Zhay-la knew that there was some kind of judgment going on here, at the very least on her part, certainly.

Twisting his head from side to side to crack his neck, Tochi retook his side of the line and lifted a brow. “And here we were thinking this was a friendly competition,” he grinned, “I’ll be sure to keep the lessons you’re teaching me in mind for the next time. Less talking,” he ticked off the points on his fingers, “and never offer a hand up after a fall.

Now, remind us,” he chuckled softly, “what were the terms of this contest? Was it a total of three or have you had enough?”

She shrugged. “Can be either, but I intended it to be whoever reached three points first won.” Grey eyes flicking between his inviting smile and the line they somehow returned to putting between them, Zhay-la worried her lip for a moment, arms crossing over herself defensively. “...I apologize if I took this too seriously, sir,” she said after a moment. “Combat is one of the few outlets I have and I treat it with utmost seriousness, for better or worse. You’re a worthwhile opponent in your own right, but holo-beasts usually are better for taking my beatings.” Eyes finally meeting his once more, she hoped he took the apology.

Once more, Tochi lifted a hand by way of dismissing the unnecessary apology. “Quite alright, Zhay-la,” he reassured her, meeting her gaze evenly, “As we've had encounters with your people before, we should have known better than to take this as lightly as I have… and, please, leave the ‘sirs’ at the door; unless we’re on duty, it’s Tochi.”

The mention of her people caught Zhay-la’s attention rather quickly. She couldn’t keep all of the worry out of her voice when asking, “You’ve dealt with the Syndicate before?”

Her concerned tone snatched at his attention, prompting him to approach the subject with all due caution. “We have,” he nodded faintly, “A long, long time ago. We dealt mostly with the Free Traders, of course, but, we did have a few unfortunate run-ins with the Syndicate. Far from the most honorable of people and, most definitely, not the sort we would ever have willingly done business with, even in those days....”

When was that, he found himself wondering even as he spoke, 2198? 99? Frill me, it has been a while!

“...We actually went out of our way to try and avoid the Syndicate when and where we could,” he continued, Odia’s memories of his many trips to Orion flooding through him, now, “but, as we’re sure you’re aware, that’s never an easy thing to do.”

“No,” Zhay-la’s voice darkened, “it’s not.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling a pressure headache coming on. But something that had been catching her attention since meeting the commander piqued Zhay-la’s curiosity in the moment. “‘We’?” she questioned, looking at the Trill. “Has the Peregrine dealt with the Syndicate before? I thought the previous postings had been far from Orion space.”

Tochi’s eyes blinked slowly... So, he realized, she’s picked up on our ‘glitch.’ Observant, this one… Then, with a slow shake of his head and a marginal smile feathering across his lips, he answered; “No. They didn’t build ships like the Peregrine back in those days.

In fact,” he continued, “Starfleet wasn’t even fifty years old, at the time, and your grandparents, maybe even your great-grandparents, probably hadn’t even been born, yet.” 

When he noted the baffled expression that played on her features in the wake of his reply, he offered something of an enigmatic chuckle. “By the look on your face,” he said, “you’re, perhaps, a bit more interested in my explaining that, than you are in continuing this?” He waved vaguely at the holo-emitter induced landscape that surrounded them. “I wouldn’t want to have my butt handed to me because I was talking too much, after all.”

Zhay-la went from staring at Tochi intensely to rolling her eyes at him. “Yes, I won’t drop kick you while you explain,” she said, while sarcastic, still taking a moment to gesture to the rock he had perched on earlier before taking a seat there herself.

He tilted his head in acknowledgement of her gesture and padded toward the rock and, as he went, wrestled with how best to explain this to her. “We are older than I look,” he started. He lifted a finger to tap at one spotted temple. “Inside here are some four hundred years or so worth of memories and experiences that are not solely my own.” Settling himself on the rock and resting his elbows on his knees, he turned his eyes her way and smiled. “There is me, of course, but there are also Kasru, Dirven, Odia, and Isri… and we are all Zai.”

The Orion woman still looked more than a little perplexed.

“A small percentage of Trill exist as a joined species,” he explained, “sharing their lives and experiences with what we refer to as symbionts. The symbionts live far longer than a humanoid Trill could ever hope to imagine but due to certain, shall we say, physical limitations, the symbionts could never hope to explore our world, let alone the galaxy, as beings who could walk, or build ships, or even interact in a meaningful way with any other species beyond their own. So, long ago, someone on my homeworld got the bright idea that we could help the symbionts do those kinds of things by playing host to them....”

Something in Zhay-la’s stomach twisted at the mention of “playing host,” reflected by her face screwing up in mild disgust. “You’re carrying a parasite?”

Tochi’s brow very nearly furrowed at that but he managed to stave off the reaction and, instead, offered another slow shake of the head. “Not a parasite,” he said, somewhat insistently, “a symbiont. There is a difference.”

No matter how many times he had tried to explain the unique relationship to others, he never seemed to get it to come across quite right except in a handful of instances - Drake, Vaela, and Asovil being notable exceptions - and the almost frustrated sigh that blew past his lips, then, may very well have captured his own difficulty in trying to quantify the intricacies of it all to non-Trill. “We can see how, to other species, this may all seem strange,” he said, steepling his fingers together and pressing them to his forehead as he tore his eyes from her and, instead, studied the ground framed between his feet, “and, to be honest, it was never my intent to be joined… That was always my sister Myrri’s dream…” His fingers came apart and feathered past his temples and through the close-cropped hair at the sides of his head before he turned to regard her, again.

“Let me start at where it began for me,” he smiled faintly, his hazel eyes seeking out her grey ones, again, and trying not to react to the disgust he saw reflected in them, “yes?”

The Orion gathered her knees to her chest, eyes intently on Tochi.

One hand came away from the back of his neck to scratch at his stubbled chin and he heaved another, thoughtful sigh. “When I served aboard the Perseus, my name was Tochi Tiaghen,” he murmured, “I had a mother, a father, and two sisters. Then, on stardate 31587.5, everything changed…”

Over the course of the next thirty minutes or better, he related to the Orion woman the exact circumstances of how he came to be joined, the consequences and complications of those actions, and how, precisely, it had changed both him and the Zai symbiont - for better and for worse.

“...the tack of my career improved,” he shrugged, coming to the end of the tale of his joining, “but, aside from Nizrri, my relationship with my family all but disappeared. We were something else to them, by then, especially to Myrri, and she’s a Guardian with the Commission, so, you can see how that might be uncomfortable…” He chuckled softly, almost sadly, and shrugged again “...or, maybe, you can’t. It’s a complex thing that very few can truly accept or truly understand outside of the Trill. Even to them, though, I’m not quite right. We are intended to be a seamless blending of past and present, after all, and, as I’m sure you have noticed, I don’t quite live up to that ideal. It’s only because of Zai’s insistence that Tochi is still here, really.”

Another soft, maybe even weak, chuckle escaped him at that and his eyes peeled away from hers to study that point between his toes, again. “I haven’t told that story to many,” he veritably whispered after a moment, “and most of those had figured bits and pieces of it out, before, they dragged the details free… Vaela, we think, was the quickest. Dirven spent a lot of time with her grandmother, after all. Silas… Captain Drake, well, he had access to our records and, as he’s become my closest friend, I just told him everything… And, Asovil…” another heavy, almost longing sigh came, here “...She deserved to know, because… because I’m fairly certain that I loved her and…”

He let the statement and the thoughts fall, there, and offered another faint shrug as his gaze turned, once again, to the jungle floor. “We may have said too much,” he confessed quietly, “and I’m not sure why; but I feel I can trust you.”

Breathing became hard underneath the Trill’s open, dare she say trusting gaze. Zhay-la had listened attentively, morbidly fascinated with parts of the XO’s story, but it was the lingering vulnerability he expressed that caught her off-guard.

Zhay-la had seen vulnerability. When you’re at the mercy of slavers, a witness and participant to the completely skewed power dynamics between master and slave, you see the epitome of powerlessness. As an assassin, you have access to the intimacy of a person’s final moments, the witnesses’ knee-jerk reactions, pure grief and panic. She was not a stranger to vulnerability; she had been at the mercy of it, had ripped it open in others, and been its master and victim countless times.

She just had so rarely had someone be this vulnerable with her by choice.

“Tochi…” she started, mouth suddenly dry. Slowly her knees fell, one by one, so that she could lean towards the Trill. She hesitated at first, but then a hand dropped to rest on his forearm. Her mind was a roiling sea of emotions, thoughts she wanted to express but lacked the words - or the freedom - to share with him. Times like this made her curse her training; having the empathy beaten out of you rarely made you a good communicator, nevermind Zhay-la’s own lackluster emotional intelligence.

Racking her brain for any semblance of comforting words nearly induced a headache. So Zhay-la finally went with what she knew best; action.

Removing her hand, the Orion turned her back towards Tochi. She lifted the sweat-slicked bun of hair from the nape of her neck, allowing a full view of the tattoo there. It was a simple barcode, depicting Orion digits based on an old dialect of their mathematics system, done in faded black ink. In comparison to the more vibrant and colourful symbols running amuck over her shoulder blades and back, this tattoo appeared old, for how the ink had lightened to a bluish-black. It was slashed and marred by several scars; the edges were worn away by deep gouges in her skin, looking to be done by fingernails, while there was a long stretch of scar tissue through the numbers, meticulously crossing out the digits.

“You’ve read my file,” she said simply, glancing over her shoulder at Tochi. “You know I’m barely Starfleet material and turned my back on my people.” She let her hair fall back over the tattoo, a few strands falling to frame her face as she turned to the Trill again. “I do not understand what - who Zai is, nor the distinction between you and them, or what this ‘joining’ has cost you.” She met his gaze, grey eyes flashing with that stubborn pride once more. “But I know sacrifice, and can tell that you’ve made many.” She offered a small, wry smile, “Perhaps it is that misery we both carry that makes you think I’m trustworthy.”

He had meant to protest her assumption that he was miserable or even that he thought of his joining with Zai as a sacrifice. Quite the opposite, in fact; to be joined was an honor, just not one he’d consciously sought out. His misery came from the loss of crewmates… friends… family. Those objections were silenced, though, when she turned, lifted her hair, and revealed the faded and scarred tattoo at the nape of her neck which marked her as a former slave.

So that’s why she became so defensive when I first asked about her past, Tochi scowled. He hadn’t truly considered, then, that her almost angry rebuffs might have anything at all to do with that. Now he was mentally kicking himself for having thought to broach the subject to begin with, especially without having done some research of his own, first.

“Oh…” Resisting the urge to reach out and touch the brand by lacing his fingers together, he offered a slow, sympathetic shake of his head, instead. “I’m so sorry, Zhay-la,” Tochi muttered, “I can’t begin to imagine what you must have endured. I…”

A soft chime from the computer interrupted him, snatching his gaze from what surely must be a hated reminder of the Orion woman’s past.  =/\=The time is oh-five-hundred hours and twenty minutes,=/\= the gentle synthetic voice said, =/\=Commander Zai, your reservation of this holodeck expires in ten minutes.=/\=

“By the Ancestors,” he said in the wake of a faint chuckle of disbelief, “has it been that long, already?”

He turned his eyes to the emerald-skinned woman beside him, then, and grinned. “This is certainly not the way I envisioned the morning starting,” Tochi said, rising from his place on the rock and offering a hand to her, “but, we have to admit, it’s been entertaining and… enlightening. We’ll have to do this again, sometime, Lieutenant,” he suggested, “and see which of us wins that third fall, hm?”

Stardate 2365.05.15

USS Peregrine, Deck 4, Science Department - 1420

CSO Esel Ch’ronnoss sat watching the Peregrine arrive into the Calican system, whilst he wanted to be on the bridge for this, he felt it was best to be with his team, get a gauge on them maybe see if there was anywhere things may need shoring up. 

So far all was going like clockwork, he almost felt like a third wheel. He smiled to himself.

Streamlined, Professional, adaptable and unexcitable. Just the way it should be. 

=/\= "Drake to Ch'ronnoss." =/\=

=/\= “Aye Sir” =/\= 

=/\= "Lieutenant, we have discovered an unexpected probe from the Calicans.  I'd like your insight into their technology, and any other input you'd care to share." =/\=

=/\= Intriguing, Roger that SIr, I shall get the team right on it =/\=

As Esel was starting to put together a plan of action, Ensign Eiali came up beside him.

"Lieutenant, this is superb. To date, I have only been able to locate data for the Calican system as provided by the initial survey vessel. When the crew determined that the second planet contained intelligent life, they left the system to prevent any cultural contamination. As a result, the data was limited to the most broad strokes, only. The level of sensor data being collected fills in a great many of those gaps. There is fascinating study to be done!"

 "Sir, with your permission, I would very much like to delve into this system data. This is my area of expertise, after all, and my current assignments are all up to date."

The barely contained excitement emanating from the Deltan was infectious, and Ch’ronnos couldnt help but crack a smile.

OK Streamlined, Professional, adaptable then

“How could I refuse such a request?” he laughed. “Though please start your line of investigation with Calican II and their technology levels with the worst, projected and best outcomes from what we know and can survey. Turns out there is a local probe in the area and the Captain wants to make sure we can accurately avoid detection and/ or messing with either probe. He wants in/ out minimal fuss. Check it out make sure its not tactical in nature first, then determining threat assements from there but outside of providing the required info to the Captain you are free to log as much other data as you can manage. Take Tanner with you, this will be a great opportunity for him to cut his teeth on.”

Esel watched the Ensigns retreating form, noting the pure excitement radiating from his persons. 

Yes, the longer he spent here the happier he felt, the more he belonged. Now lets do some science, follow the Prime Directive, fix a probe and onto the next adventure.  

As he went to work on his terminal setting it up a remote interface, he comm’ed the bridge.

=/\= Ch’ronnoss to Captain Drake =/\=

OOC: Assuming confirmation

=/\= Sir, Ensign Eilal is heading up the team, expect updates as information comes in =/\=

Stardate 2365.05.15 (Saturday)
U.S.S. Peregrine; Deck 1 - Bridge – 1430

Ferrero’s scans return only one concern and he reports it immediately. “Captain, I believe that the Calican’s have launched a long-range satellite. I calculate that it will be within range of detecting our beacon within a few days. Three, to be more exact.”

That’s more than odd, Ander leans over the panel and triple-checks the scan’s results. According to the little bit of information that Starfleet has on Calican II, they shouldn’t be technologically capable of a probe this far out in the system. They’d barely managed to make it to the moon recently. ¿Que demonios?

"Understood, Lieutenant Ferrero," Drake answers unwaveringly. "It seems that we have underestimated the technical capabilities of the Calicans. We will need to work carefully to avoid detection, and we will need to figure out a way to either shield the beacon from the probe... or, more likely, we'll need to consider moving it to a safer location."

Underestimate, indeed, Ferrero quietly agrees, adjusting the settings of the probe to expand the intensity of the scan directly on the probe. “Aye, sir.”

"Engaging at one-quarter impulse," Tochi reports, "ETA to the nav-beacon: eighteen-point-two-three minutes." 

The view on the main screen panned as the Peregrine slides smoothly onto the CFCO's plotted course.

"Bridge to Engineering," the Captain hails.

=/\= Engineering, Sa'eridon here. =/\=

"Lieutenant,” Drake begins, “it seems that we may need to consider repositioning the beacon once repairs are completed. If that does prove to be the case, we may need to look at updating the programming on it—be advised that this task may also await you."

=/\= Understood, sir. =/\=

Drake nods, "Thank you. Drake out."

A slight frown crosses the Captain's face. "Lieutenant Ferrero, give me an in-depth scan of the Calican probe, please. I'd like a better idea of the type of sensor range it enjoys, as well as the overall capabilities."

“Already underway, sir,” Ander replies, adjusting the controls once again to amplify a set of charts depicting the x-ray emissions from the probe. Early Earth technology utilized x-rays within their standard loadout. Registering the results, he cross-checks them against the charge emissions of the ions and electrons. Radio and Plasma waves are next. Rudimentary scanning equipment would most likely be the Calican’s best tech. If I remember correctly, the Voyager series probes were just beginning to utilize these scanners… The range of their emissions and the strength of the rays should help me determine their strength.

"Lieutenant Taissud," Drake addresses the officer at TAC, "we are operating under the assumption that the beacon has malfunctioned due to simple mechanical failure. While it seems pointless for a hostile power to simply meddle with a deep space beacon, I want to be sure that our eyes are open. Scan the area carefully, just to ensure that there are no unpleasant surprises."

"Yes, sir," Zhay-la responds, his voice more background noise for Lt. Ferrero. “Have PO. Wright comb over this upon shift rotation," she orders to Reid. "I want a dossier for the Calican system by the end of alpha shift. Consult Science if you need to."

“Lieutenant,” Reid responds, “the analysis is on your PADD, I had already reviewed the data available in the Star Fleet archives on Calican. Although it is not much due to the need to remain distant to preserve the Prime Directive; you will see that as stated they have barely advanced in space flight. Solid and liquid fuels, just enough to reach their own moon.”

Zhay-la hails Security.

=/\=Tactical and Security, for all your phaser and brig needs,=/\= Blomstedt answers cheekily.

“I need to review protocol with the new staff when manning the watch,” Reid muses.

"Crewman, inform Petty Officer Shaw that she will be inspecting our weapons systems personally for gamma shift, damn the schedule," Zhay-la commands. "I want Engineering apprised of the slightest misalignment before contact is made with the beacon."

=/\= Yes, Lieutenant Taissud. =/\=

Reid continues, ”If they have been able to reach our probe I would speculate that others have been giving them more advanced tech. The pirates out here would readily trade for ores and other items that the Calican would not know the true value of… We recently had an incident with the Kulder and Rytain over dilithium. Our sweeps need to check for even Romulan activity as we are not terribly far from the Neutral Zone… Mister Blackmon and Chief Brooks are heading this investigation.”

Ander allows the additional orders to fade into the background as he runs the computer through a few more complicated computations. The probe is traveling at 3.25 AU/year which means that it’s been moving for some time to place it this deep.

Drake’s voice echoes in the background as he keys the intercom again. "Drake to Ch'ronnoss."

=/\= “Aye Sir?” =/\=

"Lieutenant," the Captain spoke, "we have discovered an unexpected probe from the Calicans.  I'd like your insight into their technology, and any other input you'd care to share."

Ferrero glances up to where the captain sits and then adjusts his thought process to include Science.

=/\= Intriguing. Roger that, Sir. I shall get the team right on it. =/\=

Resolving the equations, Ferrero compiles the information into a single report that the computer then uses to decode and output the probe’s capabilities. Shooting the results to Science, he then sends it directly to the captain’s chair. 

“Sir,” Ander pipes up, “The probe’s capabilities aren’t much different than Voyager II’s. It’s been flying a long time, Captain.” Unless there’s some other reason it’s this far out, Ferrero conspires. “The report is on your PADD.”

Splitting his screen, Ander sets one side to mimic TAC’s, using the other side to monitor the continued scans’ effectiveness. At this point, with no apparent danger, he redirects some energy from shields to boost the range of TAC’s efforts. Below the power management panel, he adjusts the communications bands to a wider and older frequency while adding a filter to reduce static. Every culture he’s ever read about has sought to communicate with the stars. These communications could be enlightening and radio waves travel a very long distance in space.

=/\= Ch’ronnoss to Captain Drake. =/\=

OOC: Assuming confirmation...

=/\= Sir, Ensign Eilal is heading up the team. expect updates as information comes in. =/\=

Stardate 2365.05.15 (Saturday)
U.S.S. Peregrine; Deck 1 - Bridge – 1440