Mission 0 - The Journey Begins

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Mission 0 - The Journey Begins Empty Mission 0 - The Journey Begins

Post  Virkov on Mon Mar 26, 2012 2:00 pm

January 4, 2387
0800 hours


On the balcony of her suite, a mug of warm tea in hand, Commander Autumn Darby-Holmes stood in quiet contemplation, overlooking Betazed’s renowned Opal Sea. As the sun rose softly over it, shining in brilliant hues of gold, amber, and orange, she sighed softly to herself, enjoying the peaceful serenity she allowed to seep into her mind.

Her transfer orders to Starbase One had been cancelled as she and her daughter Gwendolyn were on the shuttle to depart, and no further orders had been given. It would have given her cause for concern if she hadn’t had myriad other things to worry about. Gwen had effectively become a recluse after their short stint aboard the Titania, and the Borg attack that had crippled the ship. Autumn understood the reasoning behind it. She noticed a paradigm shift in her own personality as well. Talking about her experiences to a counselor on Betazed was helping to a degree, but she couldn’t get over the sinking sensation that everyone she related the experience to pitied her. It was a frustrating, and at times infuriating sensation.

The last counselor, a Lieutenant Haira, had suggested that she and her daughter stay in this particular suite, as its pleasant and calm vista tended to have a soothing and calming effect on the psyche. So far, after spending two weeks in the suite, Autumn’s mind had calmed significantly, and she noticed it was having a similar effect on her daughter. Gwendolyn still had a long way to go, but Autumn knew that as a teenager, she’d spring back to herself in much shorter order than an adult.

The soft chime of her computer roused her from her calm quiet, and she stepped back into the suite, looking through the door to her daughter’s attached chamber to see her sprawled out on her bed, still in deep slumber. Smiling softly, she stepped behind the small desk, smoothing her dress out underneath her before sitting down. She pressed the console, and the combadge logo dominating the screen faded out to the face of an Admiral she’d yet to meet in her long career with Starfleet.

“Ah, Commander Holmes. I’m sorry if I woke you. I’m Rear Admiral Jeremy Prestor, with Beta Quadrant Command.”

“Yes Admiral,” she replied with a polite smile. “How can I help you today sir?”

The man had brilliant violet eyes and a kindhearted smile. He brought up a Padd from slightly off to his right, looking over it for a moment before setting it back down, folding his hands on the desk in front of him, and smiling.

“Well, this is mostly a check-in to see how you’re faring. I do have some official business, but I hate to contact anyone just with orders. I’ve read over your personnel file, and as I understand it you’ve recently had a bit of a harrowing experience. How are you and your daughter recuperating?” he asked.

She sighed, and took a small sip of her tea to give her time to formulate a response. After a moment she replied “As well as can be expected, sir. She’ll be fine with a little bit more counseling. Teenagers are remarkably resilient both in body and in psyche. I’m holding up decently. This time on Betazed has been supremely helpful with that sir. If you could forward my sincere thanks and heartfelt gratitude to whomever suggested those orders, I’d appreciate it.”

Smiling, Prestor replied “I’ll do just that. And for what it’s worth Commander, I’m glad to hear that you’re faring decently. Now...on to business. I presume you’ve received your orders?”

Autumn nodded firmly, and replied “Yes sir, I have. Not...quite what I was expecting given the circumstances, but I’m looking forward to it nonetheless. My only reservation is that I’m not sure a ship that small will have a place for families, and me bringing my daughter aboard might seem a bit untoward and favoritist.”

“Honestly Commander,” Prestor began, “I don’t see an issue with it. It’s understood by most starship crews that concessions have to be made for certain things. Family is the largest reason. Don’t worry too much about it. Have you had the opportunity to select a senior staff yet?”

“I have sir,” she replied. She pulled a PADD off of the small desk, and went through her list with a faint smile. “I’ve just sent you the list.”

She sat patiently with a smile on her face as Prestor went over the manifest. With a furrowed brow, he looked back up and said “Commander Holmes...these officers are already on assignment on another vessel. Is there a reason for choosing this staff by name? I was under the impression that personnel had sent you a dossier of available officers.”

“They did sir, and I pointedly ignored it,” she replied with a polite grin. “Frankly sir, these officers have been to the Gavarian Frontier. They know what to expect. They know what’s out there, and they know how to make the difficult decisions and handle the difficult situations. I need them on the Rhode Island, sir. It’s just that simple.”

“Well,” he replied with a raised eyebrow. “You’re in luck. Four of them are actually on leave on Betazed at the moment. I’ll round up the rest for you and get them deployed to Betazed. You’ll get your choices, Commander.”

“Thank you sir,” she replied. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to wake my daughter. We’re going sailing today.”

Prestor smiled and inclined his head. “Four days Commander. Make the best of them. Prestor out.”


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Mission 0 - The Journey Begins Empty Re: Mission 0 - The Journey Begins

Post  Gerard Garrett on Mon Mar 26, 2012 9:23 pm

January 4, 2387

The first pinkish, faltering beams of the sun had barely begun to warm the countryside, peeking through clouds upon an emerald expanse of rolling shrubland that stretched to the horizon, interrupted only by groves of graceful, spindly deciduous trees and the occasional gravel-strewn stream. A western breeze whispered ever so softly through the gullies, jingling the flowers of the muktok plants. Gerard Alan Garrett, carefully peering around the side of a boulder down a gently sloping hill and breathing slowly through his open mouth, counted himself lucky to be downwind of his most recent acquaintance. His eyes shone in the early light as he studied the creature. Five days of hiking, rising early each morning, and living out of his backpack had finally paid off, but the other animal would quite literally disappear at the slightest hint of an observer. At long last, he had encountered Canditiatherus: the Betazoid ghost lizard. The little creature was a poikilotherm, its own body temperature depending on that of its surroundings. Less than 50cm tall on two hind legs, hues ranging from black to royal purple to navy blue to forest green undulated mesmerizingly along its length as it stood stock still, perpendicular to the sun’s rays, basking. Intuition and research agreed that these rippling color patterns were intended to gather as much of the sun’s heat as possible during early morning, in order to provide energy for the day’s activities. What a beautiful little animal, Garrett mused admiringly. It was rare to be able to find one without the aid of image-enhancing equipment or a tricorder, because of the species’ ability to…

The sound of rolling pebbles came from somewhere nearby. The lizard cocked its head in the direction of the noise, and in the blink of an eye, vanished from sight. Tiny footfalls emanated from where the lizard had stood, rapidly moving away.

…go translucent. Incredible. Sometimes the things Garrett couldn’t see impressed him more than the things he could. He smiled broadly, scratching at five days’ worth of beard as he shouldered his backpack and stood to face the rising sun, feeling the warm beginnings of another beautiful Betazoid day on his face. His comm badge, in his left hip pocket, had been silent for practically the entirety of his shore leave, which suited him to a T. It almost felt like being home and disappearing to kayak the Panhandle again, aside from never having encountered most of the local flora and fauna outside of an arboretum or vivarium. He paused to get his bearings, surveying the landscape and deeply inhaling the fresh, cool morning air. The last day of any hike always felt so bittersweet. Then again, I can’t let all the other Starfleet biologists have all my exploratory fun for me, can I? Places to go, new life forms to meet and learn about. In a pleasant mood, he trotted down the hillside, making his way to the southeast, toward the closest settlement, roughly 30km away. He guessed he could make it by late evening, but if not, the prospect of one more night under the beautiful, starry heavens before sailing them again was a welcome one, indeed.
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Mission 0 - The Journey Begins Empty Re: Mission 0 - The Journey Begins

Post  Shras/Eiri on Wed Mar 28, 2012 9:46 pm

January 4, 2387
1830 hrs


Eiri pulled a robe on and stepped out onto the balcony, barefoot, the daily warmth of the sun just leaving the pavement. The evening air was warm with a cool breeze that seemed to come and go suddenly, suggesting rain later in the night. He smiled, his new husband still sleeping in the other room. New husband. Something he never thought would happen to him. They were coming to the end of a chapter in their lives and the beginning of a whole new one. Somewhere up there with the stars was their next assignment.

He took a deep breath of the sweet evening air. The USS Rhode Island. Yet another new home. Hopefully, one he would be able to stay with for awhile. The sun was setting slowly, leaving a trail of color across the sky. Their honeymoon was almost over, soon they would be moving on to that new ship. Eiri usually dreaded new assignments, getting used to the thoughts of a new crew could be disconcerting at the least, but this was not a wholly new crew. For some reason many people that he had worked with before had also been requested for this crew. Something about it gave him a little thrill.

Ayan walked up behind Eiri and wrapped his arms around the shorter man and pulled him close to himself. “Hey there,” he said softly into the Vulcan’s ear. “You’ve been out here a while. Weren’t planning on leaving, hmm?” he asked and playfully poked Eiri’s nose.

Eiri chuckled a little and ran his hands up and down Ayan’s arms, then frowned and looked up at the taller Bajoran. “Leaving? Why would you even ask that, silly?”

Ayan laughed, his smile broad. “Just making sure I don’t need to go beat someone up. Have to make sure no one’s thinking of stealing you.”

“They are going to have quite a climb.” Eiri looked over the edge of the balcony to the long drop below. “I do not think you need to worry, dear. I did say “I do”.

Ayan laughed again and kissed Eiri’s cheek. “You thinking about our new post?” he asked. “Job things usually make you a little pacey.”

Eiri looked up at the sky again and hugged Ayan’s arms around his own waist, leaning back against the Bajoran. “Yes. Although, have you seen the roster? and it is a Nova class. At least it is a smaller ship.”

Ayan shook his head, holding Eiri close. He knew how nervous a new environment made his husband. Four ships in just over a year was disconcerting enough when you weren’t the ship’s counsellor, and responsible for so many people.

“I enjoy the Nova class,” Ayan said, speaking with his usual quick pace. “They’re a lot of fun to fly, and they actually respond to the controls. Anything bigger flies very majestically, but it’s just not the same. And I’m already drooling over that Captain’s Yacht. Can’t wait to take that out for a spin in atmosphere. That’s really flying, getting buffeted by the winds and the heat from entry.” He paused for a moment for a breath. “And no, I haven’t really seen the roster. Fill me in? Any familiar faces?”

“They are all familiar. It is rather amazing. Do you remember Doctor Holmes?”

Ayan nodded, resting his head on Eiri’s shoulder and looking out into the street. “I do,” he says. “I saw on my orders that she’s the Captain, but that’s all I know.”

“Rha and Dr. Fletcher... Adam and Garrett, you, me.... Shras.” He smiled and kissed Ayan’s cheek. “Those are all I know so far, but we know all of those people and they will be taking senior staff positions. We will be in good hands all around. It almost seems like we were all asked for specifically. I do not believe it is just a coincidence.”

Ayan ran his hand down Eiri’s cheek. “That sounds like an excellent crew.” He smirked a little at his husband. “All that’s important is that you’re there, though” he said, knowing it to be corny, but also knowing he’d get good husband points for that.

Eiri blushed and hugged Ayan’s arms tighter, hiding a little behind his long, grey hair.

Ayan smirked, touching Eiri’s face. “Why do you think it is not a coincidence?”

Eiri nuzzled his nose into Ayan’s hand. “Because we were assigned already. All of us. We are being pulled off assignment for this ship.”

“That’s true,” Ayan mused, petting Eiri gently as he thought. “I am a little confused by Shras coming. Why would they pull him from his own command?”

Eiri leaned away from Ayan a little, looking at him intently. “Maybe he asked for it. I know command was not my favorite or they might be decommissioning the Normandie.”

Ayan nodded and pulled Eiri to himself again. “All right, enough Starfleet talk,” he said, smirking again and pulling Eiri towards back towards their room. “You’re thinking too much for having just been married. Far, far too much thinking.”

Eiri giggled softly and followed him back into the bedroom.


((JP brought to you by Eiri and Ayan))

Last edited by Shras/Eiri on Sun Apr 01, 2012 6:10 pm; edited 1 time in total

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Mission 0 - The Journey Begins Empty Lake El'nar

Post  Lizette Bontecou-Masters on Fri Mar 30, 2012 12:46 pm

~~ Lake El'nar , Betazed~~

Simon woke early and went to the kitchen of the suite that he and Lizette were occupying until they boarded the Rhode Island . He stood at the stove carefully making Lizette's favorite crepes and coffee. His will toned body rippled under his t-shirt, each motion fluid and no movement wasted.

In mere minutes, Simon had a tray put together and was walking back into the spacious bedroom, carefully setting the tray down, he went to the French doors on the balcony and opened them to allow the fresh air from Lake El'nar blow into the room, and opening the curtains to let the soft sun shine in.

On the bed, still sleeping soundly, was Lizette. Her dark hair spread across the damask pillows like a silky raven spread out in it's nest. Simon smiled at his wife and leaned down to kiss her neck "Bonjour mon ami." He said "Comment etes-vous ce matin?" <How are you this morning?> Simon smiled as Lizette yawned and stretched like a sleek cat "J'ai fait votre petit déjeuner préféré. Crêpes et café." <I made your favorite breakfast. Crepes and coffee.> Simon said as he kissed his wife again.

Lizette grinned and returned the kisses from her husband "Tres bon. Je suis mort de faim." <Very good. I'm starved> She picked up one of the crème filled crepes and took a bite of the textured sweetness and closed her eyes in happiness "Vous saves toujours comment faire la crème juste." <You always know how to make the crème just right.>

Smiling Simon took one of the crepes and nodded "Je n'ai moi-meme cette surpasser tiem." <I did outdo myself this time.> He said finishing off the crepe in his hand and taking a sip of the juice he had for himself. Simon took a moment and watched Lizette eat with relish and once she finished her breakfast, he cleared the dishes to the recycler and returned to the bedroom.

"Avez-vous envie d'aller en ville aujourd'hui et faire du shopping ou tout simplement passer la journee au bord du lac?" <Do you want to go into town today and do some shopping or just spend the day by the lake?> Simon asked as he began laying out clothes for the day but wanting to know which Lizette preferred to do. Swim suits or shorts and shirts.

Lizette was quiet for a moment before speaking "Allons faire du shopping. Je tiens à passer un certain temps sur la promenade. Votre sœur est venu nous rencontrer pour le dîner ce soir ainsi dans le petit restaurant près du parc." <Let's go shopping. I want to spend some time on the promenade. Your sister is meeting us for dinner tonight as well at the little restaurant near the park.> She said as she picked out a sundress and a pair of sandals that showed off the tan that she had been working on during their time on the planet.

An hour later, the couple left the hotel and headed for the promenade and shopping. It was a wonderful day spent together. Nicci joined them earlier than expected and the trio walked the promenade and in and out of the shops, chatting and laughing and enjoying the company of each other. By dinner everyone was tired and food was sounding very good. After the meal and goodbyes, Simon and Lizette returned to their hotel and sat on the balcony for the last night, talking about the future and their plans and what they thought the Rhode Island would be like. Shortly after midnight the couple headed to bed.

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Mission 0 - The Journey Begins Empty Re: Mission 0 - The Journey Begins

Post  Virkov on Fri Mar 30, 2012 2:41 pm

January 8, 2387
0945 hours

As the wind turbulence from the landing craft whipped about her face violently, Autumn raised a hand to her eyes to shield them. She hadn’t expected a craft this large to be taking her to her new home aboard the Rhode Island. As the craft turned to bring its bow towards her and settle down on the small landing pad, she reached down to pick up a small bag of her belongings in one hand, and reached down with her other to hold her daughter Gwendolyn’s hand firmly. The girl gave her hand a supportive squeeze in return, and as the engines cut off, a small hatch opened on the side of the craft, allowing egress.

A young trill man dressed in a red uniform stepped down the egress ramp, and waited by the entrance. Autumn approached the slightly larger (not to mention oddly shaped) than normal craft, and stepped in. There were two rows of seating near the cockpit area, one of which she sat down in, her daughter following her lead.

“Welcome aboard the Providence, sir,” he said. “This is the Waverider craft aboard the Rhode Island. Do you have everything you need?”

She smiled serenely, and said, “Yes, we have our personal effects. Everything else will be transported aboard by the crew here on the ground. What’s your name, Ensign?” she asked, gazing at his neckline to see the solitary gold pip on his collar.

“Kristos Kyran, sir,” he replied with a smile. “I’m one of the junior shuttle pilots assigned to the Rhode Island. I was asked to come retrieve you and your daughter, and frankly...I’ve just been itching to take the Waverider out for a spin. This seemed like the time to do it.”

She laughed softly, and said “Fair enough Mister Kyran...hmm. I wonder, Kyran as in Leitimus Kyran, the biologist?”

He smiled, and said “It’s good to see you again too, Autumn...er, sir that is. Leitimus was my previous host. He unfortunately passed about four years ago. But we can talk about that later, if you’d like sir. For now, please strap yourselves in and hold on to something. The inertial dampeners are a little tricky on this bird, and liftoff is usually a little rough.”

Autumn did as instructed, latching the belt over her lap and ensuring Gwendolyn did the same. Once she was satisfied,she gave Kyran the thumbs up. He punched a button on the main console, and the Providence lifted off towards the orbiting Rhode Island.


Bridge, USS Rhode Island
1030 hours

“I’m sorry sir,” the Tellarite man said plainly. “I just don’t think we can afford your daughter anything other than crew quarters. And those have to be shared. There’s just no other way around it.”

Autumn had been arguing with the Rhode Island’s quartermaster for the better part of ten minutes. She knew from experience that the trick with Tellarites was to be firm, and she had been, but this conversation was beginning to border on absurd.

“Chief Brax, listen to me very closely. This is not a request, this is not a favor to me as the Commanding Officer of the vessel and a mother. This is an order. You will assign my daughter her own quarters.”

“Mom, please,” Gwendolyn sighed.

“No, Gwendolyn. You’ll never be able to study if you have to share a room. Chief Brax, I am assigning my daughter to the VIP quarters for the time being, until the necessary modifications can be made to house her in a more suitable location. Mark them as unavailable on the ship’s manifest. Dismissed.”

The Tellarite growled under his breath and left her quarters in a huff.

“You really didn’t have to do that,” Gwendolyn said. “I could have just stayed here with you until we found something...it wouldn’t be the first time we’ve shared a room.”

“No, but you’re too old to be rooming with your mother, Gwen,” Autumn said, exasperation showing in her voice as she began unpacking her own belongings. “You need a proper room, with a bed, a sonic shower, and a desk all your own. I’m bringing you aboard the smallest ship I’ve ever served on, which means it’s the smallest ship you’ve ever been on. It’s important to me that you’re taken care of. Head down to deck six and get yourself set up in the VIP quarters for now. Once I’ve got the Operations division to modify a room closer up top, we can move you there. I’ll come see you in a little bit.”

The girl sighed and left her mother’s quarters.

Tapping her combadge, Autumn said “Holmes to T’Veil. Ensign, please continue as officer of the watch, I have a few things I need to take care of. If any of the senior staff come aboard let them know that we’ll be catering a dinner in the Observation Lounge at 1800 hours.”

“Aye sir,” the Vulcan’s reply came.

“Thank you Ensign. Holmes out.”


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Mission 0 - The Journey Begins Empty Re: Mission 0 - The Journey Begins

Post  Shras/Eiri on Sun Apr 01, 2012 6:08 pm

USS Rhode Island, Medical Bay
January 7, 2387
1300 hours


Head Nurse Nician Haro picked up one scanner in his pile of scanners and scanned himself with it. Satisfied with the results he set it aside and picked up another. “It sure was a nice wedding, don’t you think? I’ve never seen so many beautiful flowers. Is Bajor just like that or did they have all those flowers brought in?”

Chief Medical Officer Fletcher McNeil smiled up at Nician as he tested a new hypospray with a placebo. “Urk,” he grunted as the hypo jabbed him harder than usual, and Fletcher gingerly put it in the ‘discard’ pile.

He shrugged. “I think Bajor is probably just like that,” he said, trying out another hypospray that received his approval. “And it was nice. It was very nice. Although if that was a small wedding, I hesitate to ask what a big one would have been like.”

“The new captain will be here in the next few days. Do you think we’ll be ready? This is such a small ship.” He chuckled. “So much on my mind. I can’t stop thinking about the wedding either and you’re right. There were a ton of people there. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that many Vulcans in one place before. I mean, not to sound like that’s a bad thing, it was just surprising. I often forget that Eiri is Vulcan as well.” He continues to scan himself. Setting each in another pile as he was finished with them.

Fletcher snorted as he continued testing hyposprays. “We’ll never be ready for Autumn.” He cleared his throat. “I served under the Captain as a trauma nurse. She’s the one that pushed me into getting my medical degree. I wouldn’t be surprised if the 5th thing she did after taking command was to march down here and critique my sickbay. She’s going to be a great captain bu- AHG!” he tossed down another busted hypospray. “Where did we get these?” he asked angrily. “Cardassia?”

Nician laughed. “Are you okay over there? Sure you remember how to use one of those?” he jokes. “I think we’ll be fine though. Everything is mostly in top shape, just some faulty equipment, but the bio beds are in good shape. We’ll just toss these and go see the Quartermaster for more. At least the parts can be recycled.” He grins. “Do you think everyone will be ordered for a physical? Maybe we should get started. The XO is on board...”

Fletcher nodded. “They will be ordered a physical,” he said. “By me. Some of them have not had physicals in some time. Once we are under way I will see the rest of the crew, but there is no reason why we cannot begin with Commander ch’Ghorev.”

“I’ll go ahead and send him a message to come here when he gets a chance. Of course, I don’t want to give him too much room to ignore us. You know how much people like going to the doctor.” He laughed softly and grinned at Fletcher. “I’ll try and make it clear that we’re trying to get things taken care of before the captain is on board.”

Fletcher nodded. “Good,” he said. “Thank you, Nician. Don’t give him much of a choice at all. We should get him finished by the end of the day.” He paused and then smiled briefly. “I’m glad that you were able to come along as well. We make a good team.”

The Bolian smirked and winked at Fletcher. “Mmmhm... we do make a good team.” His tone suggested a little more than a working relationship. “You know that Andorians are like bipedal bugs? They have an open circulatory system. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you,” he laughed. “I seem to just like to hear myself talk today.”

Fletcher laughed and shook his head. “What else is new, Nician?” he asked in a teasing tone. “What else is new?”


{{JP brought to you by Nician and Fletcher}}

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Mission 0 - The Journey Begins Empty Re: Mission 0 - The Journey Begins

Post  Virkov on Mon Apr 02, 2012 9:13 pm

Ready Room, USS Rhode Island
January 8, 2387
1600 hours

Autumn sat at her desk with a poker face as she watched the woman before her casually stir a spoon into a cup of tea, taking great care not to clank it on the sides of the mug and cause what was likely in her mind “an unnecessary noise.” Autumn had never much cared for the various intricacies of politics that command necessitated, and her disdain had to have been palpable.

“Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, Commander Holmes. I’m sure you understand the delicacy of my position here today.”

Autumn folded her hands quietly on her desk in front of her, and said “Frankly, Captain Hendriks, I have no idea what the delicacy of your position entails. That’s due largely to the fact that I have no idea what you do other than work with the Operations and Personnel Division.”

Hendriks smiled, and set the mug of tea down softly on Autumn’s desk, rotating it until the handle was faced away from her to the right at a 90 degree angle. She looked at Autumn with a terse smile, and began speaking.

“Let’s not mince words, shall we Commander?”

“No, let’s not.”

“Excellent. I am here today to correct an oversight in judgment on your part. You see, you submitted a request for certain personnel, which Admiral Prestor assured me had the highest priority. Most of these were simply trivial requests. Junior officers to fill in Senior Staff roles. Granted...it was odd that they were all aboard the same command, but even that could be overlooked.”

“The problem that we have,” Autumn replied with an icy tone, “is that you find my requests trivial, Captain. I made a list of the people that I need for this vessel. These are people with experience in the Gavarian Frontier. I don’t need to de-brief them on what to expect out there. They’ve lived it. You can’t train that type of expertise.”

“No,” Hendriks replied. “You can’t. But as we’re not mincing words, I’ll simply come straight to my point. Your requests caused a command line officer to be demoted two ranks in order for him to fill the spot you requested. He was serving as the commanding officer of his own vessel, and he’s now forced to take a demotion and an Executive spot in order to fulfill the personnel demand that you made.”

Autumn blinked, and took a breath. “I was aware that he was the commanding officer of the Normandie at the time that I requested him. My request for him stood, all the same. He has experience not only in the Gavarian Frontier, but experience as an executive officer aboard this ship’s sister class.”

“I understand the reasoning for it,” Hendriks replied in a slightly mocking tone. “I’m simply suggesting that you’re removing a man from his own command against his will, in order for him to serve under you aboard a much smaller ship, with much less at stake. It’s a matter of personal pride. One must take the feelings of others into consideration before making these types of decisions. Why, imagine what the poor man must be thinking about all of this.”

“I don’t have to imagine, Captain,” Autumn said through a polite smile. “I was aware of what this would do to his service record when I brought him aboard. And as we’re not mincing words, let me make a few things fairly clear. One, I don’t give a good god damn about what you think about my choices for the senior staff. I have spent time in the Gavarian Corridor, and the Gavarian Frontier. I know what’s out there, I know what the risks are. So do these people. That’s why I chose them. Two, don’t presume to preach to me about Andorian pride. I’ve worked with countless more Andorians in the past than I’m sure you have. On this I take the hard line. If he didn’t want to be my Executive, he could have turned the position down. He accepted for a reason. Three, circular conversations like this are the bane of my existence, and I will not have another one with you, or any other person from Personnel and Operations, or the President of the Federation herself aboard my ship. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some cadets to interview for the Yeoman position. Thank you, sir for the lovely visit. Please see yourself out.”

Hendriks stood, straightened out the front of her uniform, and said "I'll be sure to note your sentiments in my report. Good day, Commander Holmes." In a flurry, she left Holmes' ready room.

With a heaving outward breath, Autumn tapped her commbadge, and said "Holmes to Sickbay, please send a medic up with some kind of analgesic for this headache."

"Aye sir, we'll send a medic up shortly. Sickbay out."


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Mission 0 - The Journey Begins Empty Re: Mission 0 - The Journey Begins

Post  Gerard Garrett on Mon Apr 02, 2012 11:20 pm

USS Rhode Island
January 8, 2387

It was Starfleet’s prerogative to reassign personnel whenever and wherever they chose. Still, the thought of adjusting to a new duty station gave Garrett some pause. Less than five months into his ship-bound career, reassignment felt a little like trying to learn to swim after being thrown out of the boat. How is it I can get so excited about experiencing the unfamiliar in the universe and yet be uncomfortable getting shunted around, like I knew I would be? He supposed his agitation was natural, considering he’d only ever served on one other starship. At least a few of the faces aboard the Rhode Island would be familiar ones from the Normandie, if the crew manifest he’d seen could be believed, and he knew he’d feel much more at home once an interesting scientific question came along for him to ponder.

“Deck six,” he requested, entering a turbolift. Accomodations a little closer to my duty station might have been better, but why bother arguing with the quartermaster about it and why complain about getting a longer walk to work every morning? Suits me just fine… after all, the consequences of that last hike indicate it’s been a while since I had a really good one. He reached down to rub a sore thigh as the turbolift halted and hissed open. Nodding to a Benzite crewman, Garrett strode down the corridor, eyes searching for the habitat the Tellarite quartermaster had assigned him. As he rounded a corner, his comm badge spoke.

“Bridge to Lieutenant Garrett.”

He stopped to consider the timbre of the cool, even, unfamiliar female voice. Commander Darby-Holmes, perhaps?

“Garrett here,” he rumbled in response.

“Commander Darby-Holmes will be hosting dinner in the Observation Lounge at 1800 hours. All senior staff are invited to attend.”

It took him a moment to respond. It was true he was the highest-ranking science officer currently aboard the Rhode Island, but in his experience, junior lieutenants were rarely invited to the Captain’s mess. Frankly, he still fully expected a more experienced science officer to come aboard as his new boss. I wouldn’t call myself senior staff, but thanks for the ego massage anyway, Officer SmoothVoice, whoever you are. “Understood, Bridge. Thank you.” He shrugged and continued onward. He’d attend the dinner and see what his oversized ears could gather about his new environment and its fauna. But first, a shower, a shave, and a change of clothing were in order. I'd hate to be mistaken for a bear or anything.
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Post  Virkov on Thu Apr 05, 2012 5:12 pm

USS Rhode Island
January 8, 2387
1500 HRS

As she stood from her ready room desk, Autumn stretched her arms out behind her back, rolling her shoulders a bit to wake herself up. She picked up her mug, gulping down the now tepid tea left in it, and returned it to the replicator. Looking around her desk for her wayward PADD, she sighed as she heard the bell sound.

“Yes, come in please,” she responded as she retrieved the PADD and began looking through the duty roster, as she’d promised she would before it was finalized.

A young human man stepped through the office, his hands folded smartly behind his back. He was wearing a Marine’s Cadet uniform, and was groomed to the standard that she rarely saw amongst cadets. He was clean shaven, his hair was cut short, and his posture was rigid. She tapped the PADD in her right hand against her left hand for a few moments to let the silence sink in before responding.

“Hello cadet, what can I do for you?” she asked firmly but politely. “I’ll warn you I don’t have a lot of time. I need to go change and retrieve my daughter for a dinner function.”

“Yes ma’am,” he nodded. “Chief Brax advised me of the situation. I’ll try to take up as little of your time as possible. I’m Cadet Aleksanter Markus Anton Windsor, and I would like to put forth my candidacy as your Yeoman for my midshipman’s cruise. I have a list of references from my Academy professors, as well as a recommendation from the office of the Commandant of Starfleet Academy.”

It took Autumn a moment to respond. She had very briefly looked over the dossier that had been sent to her from which to choose her Yeoman, and had briefly spoken with a few of them, albeit not in person despite most of them being stationed on Betazed or at Earth which was only a few days flight away. She hadn’t found any that had stood out, and was hoping that Cadet Windsor might change that. So far, he was definitely making an impression.

“What is your major, Cadet?” she asked.

“My major is strategic operations, with a minor in personnel logistics. I’ve also undertaken advanced tactical training, as well as triage medic training, ma’am,” he replied.

She arched an eyebrow at him, and replied “Impressive. You’ve clearly done your research, Cadet Windsor. What do you think of the Rhode Island and the Gavarian Corridor and Frontier?”

After a moment to respond, he replied “I have not as yet had the opportunity to study up on the Rhode Island class, ma’am. But as it is only eight decks and 85 souls aboard, I imagine it will be an easy undertaking. I have read up on the Gavarian Frontier and Corridor respectively, and...permission to speak frankly ma’am?”

“Granted,” she smiled.

“I know everyone says it’s one of the most dangerous places in the galaxy, and I’ve heard the stories of how ships go missing there all the time but...Commander the whole place just sounds so fun! The prospect of such a huge, vast area of unexplored space is mind-boggling, and if travelling two months or so down a treacherous narrow corridor is the price to pay to really be pioneers, then so be it!”

Autumn smiled genuinely, and chuckled a bit at this. She extended her empty hand to his and said “Cadet, welcome aboard the Rhode Island. Your billet as my Yeoman is officially accepted.”


Last edited by Autumn Darby-Holmes on Thu Jul 12, 2012 12:39 pm; edited 1 time in total

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Post  Adam H Carter on Sat Apr 07, 2012 5:20 am

Cafe Toulouse,
January 3, 2387

A French patisserie was an odd choice of venue for a visitor to the decidedly un-French planet Betazed, but it was a popular venue nonetheless. Perhaps it was the heavy Starfleet presence on the world, bringing the inevitable onrush of humans, desperate for a taste of a part of home. Perhaps it was the exotic tastes of the Betazoids themselves. Regardless, the place was popular, and at nearly midday on a Saturday, the place was packed.

Adam Carter stood across the square from the cafe for several minutes, feigning interest in the wares of a craft stall while he checked the area out. The clearance codes for his invitation here had checked out, but one could never be too careful. He'd learned that the hard way on a planet without a name.

A man was seated alone at a table in the cafe's outdoor area, sipping a coffee. Presumably his contact. To Adam's right, a man was seated outside at a different cafe - this one serving local Betazed food - doing a fairly reasonable job of keeping an eye on the man at Cafe Toulouse. Only one watcher? No. Flicking his eyes to his left and up, Adam made out a faint silhouette atop the roof of a bank, crouched with its back to the sun. Clever. With the sun behind them, the watcher was almost invisible.

This was good. One agent for the meeting, two on overwatch. Standard operating procedure for SFI. Adam thanked the stallholder for her time and crossed the square. Approaching the table, he made eye contact with his target and smirked.

"Should have known you'd show up here," he said dryly, sitting down. "Who'd you have to screw to get this gig?"

The man, a broad-shouldered blond with steel grey eyes, smiled in greeting. "I think you know her," he replied, affecting a shudder. "Good to see you, Adam."

"You too, Paul," replied Carter, pouring himself a glass of water and sipping it, savouring the taste. Paul Daniels was an unexpected but welcome sight. Adam hadn't seen the older man since his wandering days.

"So," said Paul, his smile widening, "What's this about you getting yourself messed up by a plant?"

Adam sighed. "What, does everyone know?"


Starfleet Intelligence Safehouse

Five hours later, he lay inside a medical bed - a scientific model, fully enclosed - while its scanner arm slid slowly up and down.

"We have the results from your doctors aboard the Normandie," Paul had explained, on leading him to the impromptu lab within the safehouse's second bedroom, now a fully equipped cleanroom, "But I've been instructed to give you the full treatment."

The arm finished what felt like its millionth sweep, then, mercifully, continued, retracting into the head of the bed. A moment later, the glass enclosure above him split and hissed open. Adam yawned and sat up, stretching. The air outside the medbed was slightly warmer than it had been inside the bed. Paul was leaning against the far wall, a padd in his hand.

"Well?" asked Adam, "What's wrong with me?"

Paul laughed. "What, you think I'm smart enough to understand what that damn machine says about you? We called in an expert on this one."

So saying, he raised a hand and clicked his fingers. "Oh, Doctor...?"

In the centre of the room, a hologram rezzed to life. It took the form of a man in late middle age, bald on top with close-trimmed brown hair around the sides and back of his head. He was dressed in an outmoded Starfleet uniform, black trousers and jacket with Medical green shoulder yoke, with a purple undershirt.

"Please state the nature of the medical emergency," he said, then looked around, puzzled. "Oh? This isn't Voyager. Was the transmission unsuccessful?"

Adam and Paul shared a grin. The Doctor, as he called himself, was a self-aware Emergency Medical Hologram who had taken the place of the USS Voyager's original doctor following that officer's death. Operating full-time, the EMH program had developed its own personality. SFI had obtained a copy of the Doctor's runcode following an incident years ago aboard the USS Prometheus, onto which the Doctor had transmitted himself as the Voyager attempted to contact home. Creating a backup from the system logs of the USS Prometheus had apparently been incredibly expensive, virtually impossible, and incredibly useful for SFI field agents, whose work occasionally involved extensive injury and a lack of available friendly medical staff. This Doctor was good at his job, intuitive, and had something of an adventurous streak.

"Doctor, protocol alpha five tango delta," said Paul. The Doctor turned to face him, his face going blank.

"I see," he said. "Please state the nature of the medical emergency," he repeated, his tone slightly brisker, as if Paul's code had explained everything. There was, after all, work to be done.

"Please analyse the sensor logs from the medical bay," said Paul. "Cross reference with the medical file for Ensign Adam Carter and the sensor readings in the attached incident report."

"At once," replied the Doctor. His eyelids flickered for a moment. "Interesting," he mused. "Mister Carter appears to have been infected with an obscure form of neurotoxin."

Adam finished pulling on a black t-shirt and nodded. "That's what they thought on the Normandie, more or less," he confirmed. "Carried by the plant's pollen cloud."

"Indeed," replied the Doctor absently. "There are notes here concerning what the pollen may also have done to you. These latest scans confirm that portions of the neurotoxin have bonded to your DNA. While your treating doctor was good enough to flush the pollen out of your system, he could not do the same to the toxin. By that point, it was a part of you."

Adam's blood ran cold. "My sense of smell. That distant feeling I had. It was... Joining with me?"

"In a manner of speaking," confirmed the Doctor. "My hypothesis is the plant intended you to kill or die for it. The spores you carried would have either germinated within your body, or the body of your victim."

"That's messed up," Paul commented, eyebrows raised.

"That, gentlemen, is nature," replied the Doctor tartly. "Thankfully, Mister Carter was subdued before he could kill, and the pollen was removed before it could cause any more extensive damage. Which leaves us with the problem of the toxin still within his system."

"What's the damage?" asked Adam bluntly.

"Beyond the sensory changes you have experienced," replied the Doctor, "Probably nothing. The toxins have bound themselves primarily to the sensory portions of your brain. You may notice visual changes on occasion, or potentially differences to your other senses. Taste and smell primarily."

"Is there any way to remove it?"

"Potentially, if you had access to a fully equipped scientific facility immediately after infection. The joining has progressed too far at this point." The Doctor gestured towards empty air, and a hologram of a human brain appeared beside him. The image zoomed in to a section, highlighted in an ironic shade of green. "The infection has limited itself to the sensory portion of your brain, but it has been rather extensive there. Short of excising that section of your brain, I would be unable to reverse the exposure, and that option presents several complications."

"Like me missing a chunk of my brain."

"Like you needing to learn to process taste, smell, touch, see and hearing input again," replied the Doctor. "It might be possible to graft stem cells and recreate the section, but you would lose the rather vital experience built up there. The same problem presents itself with a positronic graft."

Adam sighed. "So I live with it."

"Indeed," replied the Doctor implacably. "The side effects should prove to be minor. I will make my report available to your treating doctor, and will synthesise a compound for you to ingest to prevent the infection from spreading any further - though as it appears to have stopped on its own, this is more of a precautionary measure. Rest assured, Mister Carter - you are fit for service."

"Well, that's something," said Paul, "Because some new orders came in for you while you were lounging around in bed."


USS Rhode Island
January 8, 2387
1000 HRS

Adam appeared in the Rhode Island's transporter room in a wash of blue light.

"Welcome aboard, Lieutenant," said the perky blonde running the transporter console. Adam's spirits lifted a notch. Interesting.

"Thank you, Ensign...?"

"Ensign Forrest, sir," she replied, a hint of blush touching her cheeks. Adam repressed the urge to burst out laughing and merely grinned rakishly at her. "Thanks for the smooth ride," he replied. "Ensign Forrest."

So saying, he left the transporter room to get himself acquainted with his new homebase.
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Post  Enfali Khorev on Sat Apr 07, 2012 1:41 pm

January 8, 2387
0900 HRS

Enfali groaned as she finally sat up in her bed. There was a loud ringing in her ears, but this time it had nothing to do with staying up all night drinking and reading up on the Gavarian Corridor. Some of the local Betazed brews had a nasty kick to them.

"Computer turn off the alarm," She almost shouted. The computer gave another, much louder, ringing before finally stopping.

Enfali looked around the small hotel room Starfleet had gotten for her shoreleave. Betazed was nice, much nicer than Cardassia had been. But then again there were lifeless rocks in deep space that were nicer than Cardassia. As the grogginess from waking up faded, it was replaced with a sense of excitement. Her first starship post! It took a lot of willpower to not act like a little kid and start jumping up and down on the bed in excitement.

Instead she practically ran for the bathroom to start getting ready...and promptly tripped over her own feet. Somehow the floor seemed nicer from a more vertical point of view, she thought picking herself up again,and hoping she didn't have a nice greenish-purplish bruise anywhere.


Half an hour later she returned, in a newly replicated uniform, with her hair pulled back in a loose pony tail that showed off her pointed ears. She already had a small bag packed with her personal effects ready to go. Cardassia wasn't exactly a tourist trap full of cheap knick-knacks so most of what she did have had been with her for awhile now, like her Kal-toh set.

I wonder if anyone on the ship plays, she thought as she made her way to the hotels local transporter pad. As she walked through the halls from her room to pad she avoided eye contact with the local Betazoids. It wasn't that she had a problem with Betazoids, it was just that the entire idea of telepathy freaked her out. Being a weak touch telepath from her Vulcan side didn't help. She didn't want to know what anyone else was thinking, and she definitely didn't want anyone else to know what she was thinking. She'd spent most of her shoreleave in her hotel room as a result.

"Khorev to Rhode Island," She said, tapping her commbadge.

"R.I here, ready to beam Lieutenant?"

"Yes sir," She replied, being unsure of the rank of whoever was running the transporter she erred on the side of caution. Obviously they have access to the roster and schedule so they can't be that far down on the totem pole.

The Betazed hotel room vanished, and was replaced by the familiar soft grays of a Starfleet facility.

"Welcome aboard lieutenant," The transporter tech said with a smile.

"Uh thanks," Enfali replied unsure of how exactly one was supposed to reply when in this situation. The tech have her a curious look, probably having assumed she was the average Vulcan full of stoicism and carefully worded responses. She quickly made her way out of the transporter room before small-talk could commence on the subject.

The noises of the Rhode Island were very foreign to her. She'd never served on a starship or space station, nor had she ever been on one for more than a week or so at a time. The faint humming in the background was especially grating. It's either going to drive me insane, or eventually I won't even notice, she judged. The hallways also seemed claustrophobicly small. They were the same size as those on Starfleet ground facilities, but something about not being attached to a giant rock made them seem even smaller to her.

Enfali took a deep breath, trying to shake her nerves off. The ship itself was soon going to be the least of her worries. After all she still had to find her quarters, meet her new boss, talk to a counselor, talk to a doctor, maybe talk to the Captain or XO. The thought of the ships humming driving her nuts seemed trivial next to those.

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Post  Virkov on Tue Apr 10, 2012 4:33 pm

USS Rhode Island
January 8, 2387
1745 HRS

As Autumn stepped out of the turbolift, hand in hand with her daughter Gwendolyn, she had a pang of momentary regret for not being in uniform. In order to get to the Observation Lounge, she would have to cross the bridge, and instead of opting to wear her stuffy formal dress uniform, she wore a classic white evening gown instead. She let the moment pass, and instead chuckled softly for a moment, whispering to Gwendolyn, “Prepare to laugh.”

The pair stepped onto the bridge, and the ensign on bridge watch stood to announce her presence, but decided against it given what she was wearing. He instead smiled brightly at her, and said “You look very nice tonight, sir. Enjoy the view.”

She winked slyly at him, and remarked “Carry on, ensign,” before walking into the Observation Lounge. As the door closed behind the pair, Gwendolyn started giggling. The crewmen setting up the catering in the lounge stopped briefly, and only continued when Autumn waved at them to continue.

She turned to the replicator, and said “English Breakfast Tea. Hot, two sugars,” and waited patiently as the drink materialized. She stepped out of the way so that her daughter could replicate a beverage as well. Her breath caught for a moment as she looked out of the large window in the room. It had a sweeping view of Betazed itself, the Opal Sea being directly in view. She put her hand to her mouth for a moment, and smiled. The bridge duty ensign had specifically altered the Rhode Island’s orbit to provide the view.

“Wow,” Gwendolyn remarked, simply.

“Wow indeed. Okay Gwen, don’t eat anything before the rest of the staff gets here. I probably shouldn’t have brought you up at all, but I’d like set the appropriate model that this is a family ship. So be on your best behavior.”

Gwen gave her mother’s hand a tight squeeze before walking around the table perusing the food choices. Autumn smiled, and waited for her crew to arrive.

1747 HRS

Shras was the next though the door, wearing his formals, his antennae twitching as he purveyed the room. He snapped to attention for Autumn, his posture perfection. "Sir, XO Shras reporting for duty." He was aware that this was a party setting but he had not seen the captain since she came on board and he wanted to get it right the first time. He would have gladly given up his own command a thousand times for this opportunity and he didn't want Captain Holmes to miss his enthusiasm.

Autumn's smile lit up her face, and she immediately embraced the Andorian in a friendly hug before stepping back again. "Shras, it's so good to see you again. Welcome aboard."

Surprised at the hug, it took the XO a moment to react and return the hug warmly. When he finally relaxed his stance and looked around the room some more, his smile seemed more genuine. "This looks like a nice meal..." the Andorian commented with a stiff little smile. "How have you been? You look well. I see you have brought your daughter. I don't believe we have ever met. I am Lieutenant Commander Chewrath Shras ch'Ghorev, but you, little miss, may call me Shras." Again there was a stiff smile and a little bow at Gwendolyn. His antennae spun in opposing circles and then both focused on the girl.

Gwendolyn curtsied, and said "Gwendolyn Holmes. It's very nice to meet you, Commander Shras."

"And a pleasure to meet you, little miss. He saluted her and gave her a little wink. "How do you like the ship so far?"

1748 HRS

The dress uniform was a peculiar sensation after several weeks of the weathered sets of practical, multi-pocketed clothing Garrett preferred when he was living in the field. Field biologists tended to be informal creatures by nature, and it took a moment’s thought for him to recall when he’d last needed to practice this particular form of social signaling. Hundreds of thousands of years of human evolution and we still have to use things like bright colors and shiny collar pips to advertise our social standing. I guess it comes with being a primarily visual species. The thought gave him a smile to share with the bridge crew as he strode toward the observation lounge. Now to meet the Big Boss. I hope she doesn’t mind stray biologists wandering in.

He stopped just inside the door of the lounge, surveying the situation. My current CO, my most recent former CO, and my CO’s teenage daughter. This is going to be small-talk hell for a while, isn’t it? His professional judgment banishing the thought, he cleared his throat and brought his heels together.

“Commander Darby-Holmes, Commander Shras, Miss Darby-Holmes? Junior Lieutenant Gerard Garrett, at your service.” He steadily met the eyes of all three of the others, in order of precedence. “I’ll be your biologist. Since there’s no CSO aboard yet, I thought I should represent our science section, being the… most senior…” His voice trailed off. Even if he doubted they’d do so, there was still a small chance they could politely tell him to go somewhere else for the evening. Whether they let you stay or not, you’ll end up learning a lot about your new command staff just by walking in here. Eyes up, ears open.

Autumn turned to the newcomer, and said with a smile, "Ah Mister Garrett, welcome aboard. I suppose it's as good a time as any to tell you. We've yet to find a suitable chief science officer, and as the senior science officer aboard the ship presently, you're officially promoted to that spot. Congratulations."

Garrett’s pupils dilated at the unexpected news. I’ll be damned. He felt the huge weight of supervising a science section descending on him at the same moment the almost-narcotic sensation that only came from recognition slowly spread throughout his body. His CO apparently already held a degree of trust in him, and one did not refuse an on-the-spot promotion from the CO Herself.

“Thank you very much, Ma’am,” he replied, relaxing, a note of surprised pleasure warming his tone. “I’ll take excellent care of your research and your researchers.”

"See to it that you do, Lieutenant," she said with a friendly pat to the back.

1749 Hrs

Fletcher smoothed the front of his uniform down one more time before walking slowly into the room. He briefly looked around at the other officers before he focused on his mentor and her daughter, a small smile on his lips.

"Captain," he drawled. "It's very good to see you and Gwen again, even if Gwen continues to make me feel old by growing up." He turned his head and smiled at the other officers. "Commander and Lieutenant. Our paths seem to have crossed again."

Autumn nodded politely to her former pupil, and said "It's so nice to have someone of skill aboard. That I helped create the skill is of course secondary. Welcome aboard, Fletch."

Shras stood when Fletcher arrived. "Ah Doctor, good to see you again. I do hope that all of my test results came back to your satisfaction?"

Fletcher nodded back to Autumn. "Thank you, Ma'am," he said. "It's a pleasure to be working with you again. I'm sure you'll find plenty of things for me to do." He turned to the Andorian and again nodded his head. "Yes, Commander, they all checked out just fine. You're fit for duty. And in excellent shape for an Andorian of your age," he added as an aside. His lips twitched into a smile to try to show he was teasing.

1755 Hours

He'd been on board for most of the day, but Adam still didn't feel like he'd had enough time to settle in. He hadn't even managed to take a tour of the ship yet. Securing his quarters had taken nearly all of his time. That, and concocting and drinking the formula the holographic Doctor had prescribed. Then fighting down nausea for most of the afternoon. Next time, he promised himself, I'm adding honey.

He arrived slightly later than he'd planned, then, regretting that he hadn't even had a chance to meet the captain. He remembered her from the Wanderer, of course, but that had been months ago and a lot had changed. He paused outside the door, checked to make sure he was still wearing his game face, and swept into the room, a thousand kilowatt smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye.

"Captain Holmes, it's been too long," he greeted her warmly, extending a hand.

She shook his hand firmly, and smiling said "Ah Mister Carter. Nice to see you're moving up in the world from the place of a lowly Non Com. I always new you had potential. Welcome aboard."

1757 hrs

Ayan smoothed his uniform one last time. “Ready?” he said, offering his arm to the short Betazed standing next to him. He looked his husband over. “That uniform fits better than any of the others I’ve seen you in, Eiri.”

Eiri blushed and pulled at his collar one last time. “I just wish the collar was not so high and scratchy.” He was nervous and it was easy to tell. They were already going to be late, due to the little counselor fighting nerves of being in a big crowd of people.

Ayan nodded and put his arm around Eiri’s shoulder. “I know, Eiri,” he said, keeping his tone level and doing his best to not be frustrated. “But we really must go in,” he said, using the arm casually slung around the Counsellor to move him forward towards the door to their quarters. “We’re already going to be late to our first meeting with the Captain.”

1805 hrs

Eiri entered the room with a deep breath, one hand tightly in Ayan’s. It was hard to discern for a moment what was talking and what was surface thoughts. He closed his eyes for just a second to separate the two before he could continue into the room, putting on a stiff little smile.

Ayan squeezed Eiri’s hand gently and strode forward into the room, looking around at the assembled officers, his face flushing slightly from embarrassment at being late.“Sorry we’re late, Sir,” he said to the Captain as they approached the party. “Turns out that I don’t fit into my old dress uniform anymore,” he said with a small, bemused smile.

Eiri found them seats and sat politely, his eyes on Autumn. “It is so good to see you again, Captain. I really look forward to working with you again. It is funny how we seem to have come full circle.”

"You two as well," she smiled. "My apologies that I couldn't make the ceremony, I was otherwise occupied getting all of this sorted out."

She turned, and cleared her throat, addressing the entire room.

"Your Attention Please: I want to thank each and every one of you for taking the time out of your busy schedules to join me for dinner tonight. It means a great deal to me that we can come together as a group like this to break bread before we take off into the vast unknown.

"Some of you may or may not know that my previous command was utterly destroyed by the Borg. This has changed my views and the way I operate on many levels. I cannot promise you what the future brings. I cannot promise you that I will always be the kind-hearted doctor versus the hard-lined commander. What I can promise is that I will respect each of you for your abilities, and that I will take any counsel given to me with an open mind. I requested you by name for a reason. You know where we're going, you know what the dangers are, and more importantly, you've worked with me before and I know I can trust you. So with that glowing endorsement, let's eat up because we have a long road ahead."

(JP brought to you by your friendly loveable senior staff.)

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Post  Ellen Doyle on Wed Apr 11, 2012 12:48 pm

January 9th, 2387
1052 HRS

Autumn sat in quiet contemplation in the Starfleet security office, pinching the bridge of her nose with one hand as she read from a PADD in her other.

"This list of charges is rather...extensive, Crewman," she said through a heavy sigh, finally looking up at the young Bolian man.

"Yes ma'am," he affirmed. "We're not exactly sure how much of it is hearsay and how much of it actually transpired. We do know that there was some kind of altercation, and that Gunnery Sergeant Doyle was involved in the altercation in some way. It may end up just being a 'disturbance of the peace' charge when all is said and done, which seems to be the most likely since no one is coming forward to say anything otherwise."

Autumn groaned and said "I don't understand how someone can get drunk off synthale!"

"We're still trying to figure that one out ourselves, ma'am."

She stood and said "Very well, take me to Gunny Doyle. Let's get this overwith."

"Aye ma'am. Frankly...I'm sure the local government would drop all charges if you just took her out of their hair."

She grunted in a non-committal fashion, and followed the crewman to the holding cells.

Laying across the bench in the second cell from the door, was a woman with a small and lean, but atheltic and muscular build. She wore the uniform of a Starfleet marine: a green longsleeve shirt, black pants, and black shoes, but her black and grey Starfleet-issued overjacket was worn over her face, protecting it from the bright lights of the Betazoid holding cell. Her shirt was marred with a stain of something dark and red and the rest of her appearance was in varying degrees of 'messed up'.

Autumn sighed, and cleared her throat. "Right then, on your feet Marine!"

The small figure slowly got up with a significant amount of reluctance, evidenced by the muffled groan escaping from behind the jacket-turned-face-wrap. "Ellen C. Doyle, Gunnery Sergeant, Starfleet Marine Special Operation Forces." She started to say as she removed the jacket to reveal her angled features and dark brown hair pulled back into a disheveled pony tail. "Service Number Five-Six-"

The Sergeant halted her statement abruptly, doubled over, and proceeded to let out a dry hacking cough. "Oh, Doyle-girl, what did you drink last night!?" The woman exlcaimed to herself between gasps of air.

"Whatever it was, it clearly didn't agree with you," Autumn replied, crossing her hands over chest. "I have to say, Gunny Doyle, I am underwhelmed thus far. Do you have any recollection of what happened to you over the course of the last 24 hours?"

"Underwhelmed? I managed to end up in a brig on Betazed...if it wasn't for that time I ended up sleeping one off on Risa, that'd be a personal best..." The Sergeant said as she regained the air in her lungs. "...I think I started the day off in a bar as soon as I landed, had a few drinks at a local pub, and that's when it starts to get blurry...around the 7th round I think...there was a fight with me, a Yridian, and some locals involved...I think the gist of it, was that I was shouting very loudly and disturbing the peace...with my mind. Didn't know I could do that."

Autumn turned her head, mostly to stifle a laugh and cover her mouth with a few fingers, but also to look quizzically at the Bolian security officer. He gave her a shrug, and said "It's not unheard of."

"The Betazoids are not a particularly litigious society Gunny, which is very lucky for you," Autumn said, regaining her composure and turning to face the cell again. "But if you're going to be the chief of security aboard a starship I'm commanding, we're going to have to get your drinking under control. I'm going to leave you here to cool off until the afternoon. Is there...anything else you'd like to share?"

"So, you're Commander Holmes then, I take it?" The Sergeant said as she straightened up almost immedialty, seeming to shrug off whatever was effecting her. "Don't worry ma'am, I don't let my recreation getting in the way of my job. I don't look it now, but I'm a consumate profressional at heart. Job comes first, trying to beat Klingons in drinking contests comes second."

Autumn turned to the crewman, and said "Make sure she gets something to eat and some type of digestive aid."

"...scratch the digestive aid, please..." Ellen added as she put her uniform jacket back over her shoulders. "Never needed them, just a nice big glass of black coffee or water would be fine. That synthale was really dry."

Autumn sighed heavily, and said "Fine. I'll expect you on the bridge, in a clean uniform, at 1300 hours. Crewman, if the situation changes, contact me immediately. I'll be returning to the Rhode Island presently."

"Yes ma'am," the young man said with a pleasant smile.

Tapping her commbadge, Autumn said "Holmes to Rhode Island, one to beam out." She stood still for a few moments before disappearing in a swirl of white light.

With he commanding officer disapearing in a beam of light, Ellen Doyle turned to face the crewman on the otherside of the forcefield. "Well then...I'm going to need a fresh uniform, a hairbrush, and very large mug of coffee...raktajeno if you have any."

The bolion crewman just rolled his eyes and moved back towards the office.

First impressions are overrated anyways, thought the Gunnery Sergeant.

(JP brought to you by Commander "HOW DO YOU GET DRUNK OFF SYNTHALE?!?!?" Holmes and Gunny "I disturb the peace with my MIIIIIIND" Doyle.)

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Post  Verek on Thu Apr 12, 2012 3:46 am

USS Rhode Island - Science Lab
January 10th, 2387
0715 HRS

Pressing a few buttons on the science console, Verek locked down his experiment, and a container enclosed the plant samples he had taken. The Nitrate concentration was starting to worry him. If it got too high, than he'd have to go back to the genetic drawing board, and regrow another set, which would take weeks. Though, he had more pressing things to be done. He had been incharge of the science department since the Rhode Island left for Betazed, and he had to make his rounds.

Verek had made it a habit of visiting the labs early during the mornings before his shift to make sure things were running smoothly, though, now that they'd arrived at Betazed, he was sure he would be meeting the Chief science officer any time now. He had made a small effort to start meeting some of the science crew, though no one really knew who the chief was, or when he'd get here. Verek hoped it was someone who could appreciate the order he had been maintaining. Running the science lab was easy enough with the skeleton crew assigned under him. Now that more crew were settling onto the Rhode Island, he hoped he could hand the department reins over to someone, and get back to his experiments.


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Mission 0 - The Journey Begins Empty Re: Mission 0 - The Journey Begins

Post  Galan tr'Delatham on Sun Apr 15, 2012 8:44 am

IRW Saeihr
December 23, 2387
1823 HRS

A thousand stars winked at Galan from the other side of the window. Sighing, he turned away from the pane, rolling over on his bed. The inky plane held nothing of interest for him now, and even the innumerable stars grew tiresome.

The clock on the wall adjacent to him displayed the current time in green numbers, right down to the nanosecond. The digits were constantly in motion, flashing dimly in the unlit chamber. He couldn't help but watch, regardless of how it plagued him. Groaning softly, he rolled over again, face nestled in his pillow. They weren't even in the neutral zone yet, and he was already ready to go home.

Home...Romulus. Somewhere out in the darkness of space Romulus and Remus circled one another proudly. He wondered when he'd walk under their grey clouds again, or if he'd ever. What if he died while serving on the starfleet vessel? Then, he thought, the elements of the universe would of truly abandoned him. No romulan in their right mind wanted to die on the wrong side. With a quick, sudden breath, he pushed himself away from the warm sheets of his bed. These thoughts were dangerous, and led down a dark path he knew all too well.

Five minute passed with a gentle lucidness before a chime buzzed, drawing his attention to the door.

"Lights," he murmured, fumbling out of bed. Bright lights flicked on, chasing away the darkness. Squinting his eyes, he straighten out his uniform, then said to the door, "Come in."

The door slid open with a faint pneumatic hiss. A young romulan officer stepped over the threshold into Galan's room. At the sight of her familiar, sharp, features he smiled softly. "Sela, what can I do for you?"

She eye'd him with a low-lidded look that let Galan know something was wrong even before she spoke. "You forgot."

Galan blinked, pausing for some seconds before figuring out what she meant. Again?! he thought, trying to keep his all but omnipresent frustration out of his voice and face. "Oh, yes! Our evening tea. Forgive me, I was just reading the novel you gave me last week, and it seems I lost track of time."

"You're a bald-faced liar, Galan," she said with all the candor in the world.

Her answer only widened his smile. "How I'm going to miss your skull smashing bluntness, my dear."

"I know." She wanted to keep being mad at him, but she couldn't. They had very little time left together, so she allowed her defense down for now. "But, for the complement, I'll forgive you. Now make me tea."

An uncontrollable laughter began to build up somewhere in Galan's chest. "Was it really the complement or was it my boyish smile?"


"I know," he echoed her, chuckled, then started towards his kitchen. "Make you tea."

Sela wasted no time taking a seat at Galan's tiny table, assuming a ramrod-straight posture. Her brow creased slightly as she stared at the table top while she gathered her thoughts. A moment later she fixed her gaze back upon Galan. "So...when are you going to tell me why you got this assignment? We both know it was senator Kaol who arranged it. How did you make him so mad?"

Galan felt a scowl coming on. Luckily, the fog from the boiling water hid it. It was the same conversation Sela and he had had for the last few days. She was determined to get it out of him, and Galan was as equally determined to keep it to himself. If he had to have this conversation one more time, he might slip a little something extra in her cup of tea to shorten their meetings.

He remained silent as he began the delicate process of putting the tea together. When he finished he turned around to face her

"Alright, I'll confess," he said with a wan sigh. "My uncle is a temperamental man; I over-watered one of his favorite orchid's, and the poor thing shriveled up to the size of an andorian brain. I needed a microscope to find it, really. Obviously, I wasn't gifted with a green thumb like the rest of the family, one of my many great failings."

"Galan I'm being serious. You know I can help you out of this if you'd just stop being a stubborn fool," she replied, an edge of frustration sharping her tone. As much as she didn't want to be upset with him, it was hard when he joked around about something serious.

His eyes narrowed slightly. "For the last time, I don't want your help, or pitty. When I got this assignment I realized my mistake could of cost me a lot more than my ego, so I'm going to take what I deserve."

"I don't believe you. There's more to this than you're letting on, and I'm going to find out what."

"Do what you must, my dear, but try not to be too disappointed when you find out the gory details behind the death of Kaol's plant."

USS Rhode Island, Turbolift
January 10th, 2387
1043 HRS

As he took the turbolift, Galan could think only of the crew boarding the ship from Betazed. His time on the USS Rhode Island hadn't been too bad so far, as dealing with a skeleton crew for the ride from earth wasn't much of a challenge. In fact, he had spent more of his free time in his room organizing his tea collection than he had getting to know people, and no one had bothered him. That type of indulgence might be much harder to have from now on and --

The swoosh of the door opening snapped him out of his daze. Two turquoise-shirted officers that Galan didn't recognize entered in silent unison. They stood beside him just as the door slid shut. Clearing his throat, the youngest attempted to start a conversation. "So, ah, whats your name, sir?"

Galan hesitated a moment. He was still not use to giving his name out to aliens so freely. Since he was young, he had been taught that a romulan's name controlled his luck and giving out his name gave others some control over his luck. But, he had chosen a fourth name long ago, and that would at least help him retain some extra control.

"Centurion tr'Deletham," Galan replied, giving a mirthless smile.

"Wait, Centurion? Isn't that a Romulan rank?" the man asked, caught slightly off guard. Just then. the door opened.

"Good bye," Galan said, and got out of the turbolift as quickly as possible. He'd have to figure out who those two were later, once he was able to pull himself together a little more.

Last edited by Galan tr'Delatham on Tue May 01, 2012 12:07 pm; edited 3 times in total
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Mission 0 - The Journey Begins Empty Re: Mission 0 - The Journey Begins

Post  Casimir Mordeva on Tue Apr 24, 2012 9:21 pm

January 8th, 2387
0600 HRS

Only the faintest tendrils of dawn peeked over the distant horizon as Casimir watched the slow, shifting waves of the Opal Sea. His family, of course, had provided sufficiently regal accommodations for him, to avoid the public scandal that would come of ignoring him utterly. Though wise on their part, the gesture was unneeded. His name had sunk into the shadow cast by Julian's rising star; Casimir could scarcely check his computer without being peppered with newsfeeds of his brother's latest political triumphs and social conquests. A new woman hung from his arm at every turn, it seemed, and meanwhile his image remained as pristine as it had been before Casimir's exile.

It appeared Casimir had inherited the Mordeva lineage's bad karma, accumulated over generation after generation since time immemorial.

It was a price he was willing to pay. Sometimes, the weak were forced to form a bridge of bodies for the strong; other times, they managed to claw their way up to stand on the shoulders of giants. Casimir still didn't know which lot was his. This way, however, he could find out: his past slate, all of the things he'd done wrong on Betazed, were wiped clean in favor of a fresh blank canvas for the adventures to be had. A tight smile found its way onto his face as he absently slurred the ice in his drink, gaze fixed on something far beyond the distant horizon and deep into the mists of his memory.

Behind him, the viewer blinked on by itself. An androgynous voice chimed in loud enough to be heard but amicably not to agitate him, NEW MESSAGE RECEIVED FROM JULIAN V. MORDEVA.

His smile slid back down into a frown and he stood up, sliding sheepishly back into the lavish apartment. "Playback," he said quietly, but the computer picked up the sound.

An once-familiar voice, made distant by time, and fame, and status, and perhaps just a little divine providence, began, "Hello, Casimir. It's been quite some time, hasn't it?"...

1100 HRS

The city's thoroughfares were congested with people in transit. The cafe they'd chosen, located on the nineteenth floor of one of Betazed's numerous sullen skyscrapers, offered quite a vantage point. So far below them people were less ants and more bacteria viewed beneath a microscope, a culture flourishing on a Petri dish. The thoughts and feelings bombarding him were less a song than a solid wall of mental sound. In the past, Casimir had overheard a group of human tourists marveling over the lack of atmosphere all of Betazed's restaurants seemed to suffer from. They complained in particular about the lack of music. Ever since then it had become a kind of inside joke for him. One needs no accompanying orchestra to the symphony of thought and feeling.

His brother, sitting across from him, looked remarkably unchanged. Despite his disguise - a sparse mustache and a thin beard, a change in hair color and style, some contact lenses and a quick bath in UV light - his gait, the way he carried himself, and even the mischievous sparkle in his stare were all just as they had been when Casimir left Betazed nearly four years ago.

"You won't be back, will you?" Julian had asked him a few moments before. Casimir had spent the last few minutes in contemplation. He'd considered the question before, but the conclusion always seemed fuzzy. Part of him longed for the days spent stoking campfires in the jungles of the southern continent, telling stories, rafting along the tributaries leading towards the Janaran Falls. For a long time, he thought he would go through those same traditions with his own children.

"I don't know. I don't know if I want to," he answered truthfully. There was no place for him on Betazed anymore. Those memories would remain memories and he would cherish them, but the closest he would ever get to revisiting those places and those times would be in a simulation designed by computers, and no matter how realistic the pixel images were, they could never replace reality.

"Once Father dies and I become head of the family, you will be welcome here." The way Julian spoke of the future was so matter-of-fact, so iron solid, that it couldn't help but stir the long-dead envy that Casimir hadn't felt for his brother in nearly half a decade. He should have scolded him, probably, for talking about their father in such a way... but he really didn't care.

"That's alright... Your destiny is here. You're going to be a leader, Julian. You'll become a senator or an ambassador or something like that, raise a family here on Betazed." He pointed an index finger out the window, up into the cloudless sky, where a dim crescent moon could still be seen. "My destiny is up there."

"We need to talk about this more," Julian replied stoically. He had never been much of a romantic. Before Casimir could reply, however, a waitress arrived with their food. She sat down the coffee and was reaching for their breakfast when Casimir recognized her as an old classmate, although certainly matured from those halcyon days. She'd developed into quite a woman. When she met his inquisitive gaze, however, all she offered was the prefab smile she showed to all her customers in hope of a decent tip. In her thoughts he sensed faint discomfort, but not even a dim stab of recognition.

Once she'd gone, he looked at Julian, ready to comment on it. Then he realized, in a sad moment of epiphany, that to his brother this was just another appointment, another scribble on an endless agenda. As if in acknowledgment, Julian looked up at him with eyes full of that same cold detachment. He asked, "Are you going to eat that?"

Looking down at his plate with a sudden lack of appetite, Casimir replied, "No, go ahead. I'd already eaten when you called."

January 10th, 2387
0130 HRS

He probably should have been asleep, or at least packing the last of his belongings and preparing to board the USS Rhode Island the next morning. Still... he felt this was the most appropriate way of saying goodbye.

The Opal Sea stretched out before him in its incredible vastness. Out there on the water, ships twinkled as if they were lone stars lost in the void between systems. In the distance he could make out the coast of another city, glimmering like the edge of the galaxy - a galaxy that he would be out experiencing within the next few days. The sheer magnitude of the task set out before him was almost crushing in its weight, and for the first time in a long while, Casimir was thankful that he wouldn't be alone.

He reached out to the minds around him, dreamers and the waking alike. He felt sadness and despair and misery, anxiety and pain, all emotions familiar to him in the last few years... but he also sensed happiness and joy and hope, and he smiled. He felt the dim stirrings of consciousness in the sea, the nascent thoughts of the beings that might replace the Betazoids millions of years hence, and realized this was how he wanted to leave his home.

He turned away from the ocean, pulling his coat closer around himself as a cold breeze blew through. Betazed was just one world in a catalog of hundreds, thousands, maybe millions. He had others to see, and he wouldn't be alone.

1700 HRS

His quarters on board the Rhode Island were humble but functional. He'd already filled the shelves with the physical copies of his favorite books, and data crystals containing the rest of his precious things sat beside his own personal terminal, waiting to be uploaded. His room had a strategically placed viewport that gave him an excellent vantage point of the stars slipping away as the ship accelerated towards Warp speed.

He sat his suitcase down on the bed, having already switched into his Operations uniform, and strode out into the adjoining hallway, hoping to arrive early to the welcoming ceremony. First impressions, after all, were far from overrated.
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Mission 0 - The Journey Begins Empty Re: Mission 0 - The Journey Begins

Post  Virkov on Tue May 01, 2012 12:06 pm

USS Rhode Island, Captain's Ready Room
1022 hours

There were many differences between the Romulan Star Empire's and the Federation's military, but Galan found the most irritating one, albeit rarely mentioned, was the colors. The Federation had colorful uniforms, colorful buttons and lights, colorful hair and even colorful skins with the different types of species running around. It was a stark contrast compared to the empire's mostly grey environment.

The eye-straining change in scenery had giving Galan a headache on his first few days aboard the Rhode Island, or at least that's what he guessed caused it. And that headache had returned today, the day he choose to make a customary visit to his new, alien, captain.

After having spent a good amount of time rubbing the sides of his forehead, the romulan solider rung the chime to the Captain's Ready Room and straightened out his posture.

Autumn looked up from her flurry of reports, at the unexpected chime and said "Enter."

The door opened with a soft hiss and Galan stepped across the threshold, clasping his hands behind his back.

"Ah!" Autumn said, standing and formally extending her hand. "Welcome aboard, Centurion. I'm looking forward to working alongside you. From what I've been able to glean from the small bit of your service record, you come highly recommended. I trust your trip was a pleasant one?"

Galan paused to stare at her hand for a moment, then shook it while he spoke. "Thank you, captain. The trip has been... entertaining, and I'm sure it'll continue to be from what the Empire knows about you." His lips creased into a thin, ominous smile as he broke off the shake, hands once more clasping behind his back.

"Quite," she smiled tersely. She stood in silence for a moment, letting it sink in, before saying "Tell me, what do you know of the area of space that my people call the Gavarian Frontier? I understand that as far as the Romulan Senate is concerned, it's a hotly contested area of space."

"Very little, I'm afraid," he lied. A pang of pain shot through his head, causing him to flinch before continuing. "I'm just a common solider, captain. What I do know is obvious; the senate is unhappy with the growing Federation presence in the frontier. And, for your own safety, it would be best to give any Romulan installations a wide berth."

With a coy smile, Autumn replied "Ah, have no fear about that Centurion. I have no desire to go stirring trouble where it doesn't need stirred. As a common soldier, how much experience have you had in the field of Starship Operations?"

He nodded and pretended not to notice the captain's smile. "Twenty three years of Operations experience on the IRW Saeihr."

"Very nice," Autumn said. "Well, without making this too hard on either of us, I'm going to just be blunt with you. If you're here for sabotage or espionage, there isn't really much that I can do to stop you with so little crew aboard. That said, I would like to point out that I am a woman who just lost her previous command to the Borg, and I won't be losing one to anyone else, be it Romulans, Borg, or any other faction in this galaxy bent on doing the Federation harm. You are here that our two cultures may learn from each other in the spirit of friendship. I take this very seriously, or I would not have agreed to house a diplomatic exchange officer aboard. Learn from us, as we I'm certain will learn from you. Do we have an understanding, Centurion tr'Deletham?"

Autumn's sudden bluntness surprised Galan. Although, for a moment, she reminded him of Sela, which helped him force a fake smile before answering. "Understood, sir. I know you have no reason to trust me, but I'm not here to do any harm to your ship or crew."

"Good enough for me," Autumn smiled. "Do you have any questions for me before I send you on your way to get adjusted and acquainted with the ship?"

"I do have a question, captain, about a more personal matter. Before we move past the most colorful subject of sabotage, subterfuge, espionage and paranoia, I want bring up the fact that I'd like to keep in contact with my family during my time on the Rhode Island, whenever possible. Which means I'll be openly sending messages to Romulan space. I foresee security having a problem with this. In order to help sooth their worries, is there any way I can get your explicit permission to send my messages? Preferably without any invasion of my privacy."

Autumn quickly punched a few commands out onto a PADD, and extended it to tr'Deletham. "This is my personal encrypted code for sending communications to family. It will bypass all security protocol aboard the Rhode Island. That said, I cannot promise you that our Intelligence Officer won't occasionally be snooping around your messages, as he does everyone's. I can politely ask that he not do it, but as I'm sure you know, obeying all orders from a CO is rarely in an Intelligence Officer's line of duty. It's the best I can offer. Abuse it, and I will be very displeased."

With a faint smile, she said "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a few other things to see to. I look forward to working with you, Centurion."


This jp brought to you by Dr. Captain McFoxyLady and Centurio Augusto Romulo

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Mission 0 - The Journey Begins Empty Re: Mission 0 - The Journey Begins

Post  Shras/Eiri on Wed May 23, 2012 10:46 pm

January 9th, 2387
1224 HRS

It didn't take long for Gunnery Sergeant Ellen Doyle to clean up. One of the first skills she learned in Marine training was how to muster on a moment's notice. A quick sonic shower and her hair was clean and pulled back in a short and neat little ponytail, her uniform pressed and neatened by the sonic vibrations in the process.

Unfortunately, she was still recovering from the aftereffects of being hungover, and her iced coffee wasn't helping. I really should figure out how to suppress that part of the process sometime... She thought briefly to herself. ...oh well, the old adage applies till then. Don't make yourself drunk unless you plan to pay for it in the morning...or noon, as the case maybe.

She only had one piece of luggage, a carry-on dufflebag, which made the next steps of her morning easier as she reached the Betazed precinct's transporter room. "One to transport to the USS Rhode Island in orbit. Engage."

USS Rhode Island
January 9th, 2387
1225 HRS

Shras was ready and waiting in the transporter room for Gunnery Sergeant Ellen Doyle. His antennae twitched as he looked her over once she had materialized on the pad. "Welcome aboard Gunny Doyle. I am Commander Shras. I'll be your executive officer aboard the Rhode Island. She's a fine ship." He held out a PADD to her. "Here are the personnel files for everyone you will be responsible for and the current duty roster. Please feel free to make changes as you see fit." He turned a little, toward the doors. "Would you like to see your quarters? I will brief you on the way if you like."

He wasn't the most intimidating of Andorians, but he still held himself in a serious way. The smile on his face was strained, almost like his face was not used to smiling, his dark eyes, serious. The antennae on top of his head though, seemed to have their own ideas about things. One would swivel forward and the other back and then they would both focus on Ellen for a few moments before spinning away again.

Doyle cocked an eye at the very blue first officer and slung her dufflebag over her shoulder as she stepped off the transporter dais to accept the offered datapad. "Not even waiting for me to ask 'permission to come aboard', huh?" The Sergeant asked sarcastically as she studied the PADD for a moment and then frowned slightly. "...I would like to check out my duty stations, but dropping off my things first would probably be a good idea." ...also good to know where I'm supposed to sleep one off, she added silently. "Lead the way, Commander."

He headed out, walking next to her, his eyes on the other PADD in his hands. "We will be headed for the Gavarian Frontier in the next few days, once we get our full compliment on board. Have you been there before?" His eyes never left the PADD but his antennae swung around to look at her. "I've been there a few times myself, but never really had much chance to explore. I'll expect any changes to your duty roster to be submitted by tomorrow. Your full staff should be on board by tonight. Not to step on your toes, but I would suggest a meeting to explain to your crew exactly what you expect from them."

"I know the drill, Commander." Ellen replied. "I may not be commissioned, but I've had leadership before...even experience with Starfleet Security before 'going green', as it were." ...and the Gavarian Corridor...been there too, once... she added silently.

He led the way to the turbolift and after a short ride he led the way to her quarters. He stood in front of the door and gestured for her to go ahead. "These will be yours for the remainder of your time on board."

Doyle opened the door and glanced about the room. "Spacious...having my own room will take some getting used to."

The Gunnery Sergeant unceremoniously tossed her bag into the room, which made a muffle clanging sound reminiscent of metal wrapped in cloth. She then stepped into the quarters, spun around once on her heels and then walked right out back out and closed the door. "Well, that's that then. Shall we head to the bridge? I do actually have some questions about this assignment and refit to ask on the way."

Shras nodded, his antennae bobbing up and down with the motion. "Bridge it is then. I will endeavor to answer any questions you have." He did not seem to think her behavior unusual at all. He turned back to the hallway and headed back to the turbolift.

"Right then, first concern." Ellen said as she kept pace with the taller blue-skinned man. "I couldn't help but notice the somewhat laughable amount of members of the ship's security department...or rather, the lack thereof. I take it Starfleet didn't adjust the crew ratio when it refitted the Rhode Island from Science Vessel?"

Shras snorted. "We're still working on that, but you will have a full compliment by the time we leave for the Frontier. It is something we have been struggling with a little bit." His antennae were keeping a close watch on her as they entered the turbolift. "Main bridge," he announced. "Any help you can offer with the crew ratio would be appreciated."

"I've got a few ideas to try...most of them even follow the standard regulations of armed engagement." Ellen smirked. "Having such a small department means we'll have to get creative with tactics to even the field. Who do I talk to about reserving a holodeck for training?"

"The holodecks are free for use for anyone at the moment. Once we get underway that may change, but for now if there's no one already in there have at it... as they say." He chuckled as if this was funny in some way. "For now. Welcome to the bridge."

The bridge was moderately lit and technicians scurried about applying finishing touches to various auxilary systems. A few panels where being installed and some of the alert status lighting fixtures were removed to allow access to the circuitry beneth. The main operational consoles at the front, flight control and operations, where already active of course, as were several others.

Tucked away in a large alcove in the back, behind the command level was the Master Situation Display on the back wall, currently displaying the blue and silver logo of the United Federation of Planets...and right in front of it, on a raised platform, was a large curved console built between two support pillars. A semi-opaque white sheet was placed over it, indicating it's status as a recent and as of yet unused fixture.

It was this station that caught Sergeant Doyle's attention. "I'm guessing that's the tactical station?" She asked pointing towards it. "I've been on the bridge of a few Nova-class ships in the past, they're all slightly different of course, but this bridge's main design appears similar enough and none of them had that."

Shras grinned. "That's the one. I've had to re-familiarize myself as well. I've only served aboard a Nova class once before and that was a long time ago. With the refit everything just a little bit different. So we've had to work hard and fast just to know where everything is." He chuckled softly.

Doyle walked over to the console and took hold of the white sheet. She waited a moment, either out of hesitation or simply for dramatic effect, and the in one swift and sudden movement, pulled the sheet of the console revealing the smooth shiny black surface of the control panels, waiting to be powered up.

"Sort of exciting to have a brand new console isn't it?"

"In a way..." Doyle replied with a smirk as she placed her hand on the console panels. "...last time I had a dedicated bridge station at my disposal, it was on a hundererd year old klingon bird of prey during the hieght of the Dominion War...unbelievably jury-rigged with loose circuits and covered in scorchmarks and scars."

The Gunnery Sergeant turned around to the MSD at the back of the alcove and placed her hand next to the UFP symbol. "Computer. Activate Bridge Master Situation Display. Code Doyle-3147-Beta."

The UFP symbol vanished as the large wall display blinked out for a moment, before becoming lit up again with a detailed schematic of the Rhode Island's interior and various basic systems and internal sensor data readouts. Doyle traced the schematic lines with her eyes, committing them to memory and planning out her first patrol to get herself familiar with the ship's corridors and locations.

"So, Lieutenant Commander Shras, have you assigned me to a duty shift yet?" She asked.

"Alpha shift for now. Although, do not get too settled into that shift, it might change." His antennae spun around as if they were taking in the rest of the goings on on the bridge, before they settled on her again. "I expect a report at 1600 tomorrow on the performance of the equipment."

"With respect Commander, I haven't even met my team yet..." The marine said with a slight frown. "...let alone have the time to do any diagnostic worth a damn on any of the tactical systems or armory gear in such a little time...and from what I'm seeing the board, most of these systems have never been fired up yet. The report will be pretty bare, unless you want me to include and just focus on my own personal arsenal of knives, archaic disruptors and my personal sidearm."

Shras laughed, which was a strange clicking noise. "Even if it's bare bones I just want to know your progress over the day. Don't worry so much about volume. It's content is what I'm interested in. As we try to get everything up and ready to go I'll need all the reports I can get from everyone... Does that make more sense?"

"Yes sir." Doyle replied. "One report, at the end of my first shift at 1600 tommorrow, coming up."

The marine glanced back at the MSD another quick look. "Well, I suppose I better go get my quarters in order and track down my 'squad'. Thank you for the tour, Commander Shras."

Doyle straightened up slightly and gave a quick salute and then turned on her heels to exit out of the aft turbolift.

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