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Post by Captain Falla on Feb 28, 2009 19:33:47 GMT 12
(USS Denmark, Main Bridge -- Captain Falla, Ensign Lak, Commodore Miller -- MD1, 1600)
Captain Falla sat proudly in his command chair, glad that he pushed his staff into finishing ahead of schedule. Let's get out of here, already. "Ensign Lak, hail the Numetto. Let's get this show on the road."
Lak, sitting at tactical, presses a few buttons. "Channel open, sir!" he replies with great enthusiasm.
"Hello Captain," Diana says dryly. "Eager to get out of dock, are we?"
"Indeed, Commodore. Sitting in dock doesn't do anyone any good whatsoever," Yarzin replies grandly. "so I'm anxious to get underway and continue serving the good of the Federation."
"Why am I not surprised? It just so happens that we do have a mission for you."
"I thought you might."
"We need a ship to ferry some medical supplies to Cardassia Prime. We were going to get a guarded civvy to do it, but since you're so ready to go..."
"The Denmark is designed for mass bio-transport, Commodore. I am certain the mission will suit us fine, especially for a first mission."
Doesn't stop it from being make-work, but clearly someone is too blind to notice that fact. "There you go then. Enjoy your shake-down cruise, Captain."
"Thank you, Commodore."
"As of this stardate, the USS Denmark is hereby commisioned as a starship of the United Federation of Planets, Starfleet. Captain Yarzin Falla, as of this stardate you are placed in official command of the USS Denmark as it begins its mission into space." Blah blah blah...
"Thank you, Commodore," Yarzin smiled. "Denmark out." When the channel closed, Yarzin called for the launch. "Ensign Lak, signal spacedock to release mooring clamps and open doors. Ensign T'Mira, ahead thrusters. Slow and steady."
"Aye, Captain!" Lak responded loudly. "Mooring clamps released. Spacedock doors opening."
"Thrusters engaged," continued Ensign T'Mira. After a minute or so... "We're clear of Starbase 375, Captain."
"Full impulse loop around the Starbase, Ensign, then set a course for the medical facilities at Prekia II, Warp 5," Yarzin commanded, allowing himself a small vanity.
This launch brought to you by: Captain Yarzin Falla, Commanding Officer, USS Denmark Commodore Diana Miller, Commanding Officer, Task Group Zeta Ensign Lak, Assistant Chief of Security, USS Denmark Ensign T'Mira, Flight Control Officer, USS Denmark (NPC)
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Post by Lieutenant JG Rawlings on Mar 3, 2009 7:36:33 GMT 12
(USS Denmark, Main Engineering -- Lieutenant Tikal Rawlings -- MD1, 1630)
Tikal's eyes swept the efficient, clean area that was main engineering. It was good to be back at real work, that was for sure. She absently took a PADD a subordinate handed her, brought itup to her eyes to survey the contents.
The launch had been smooth from an engineering perspective. She was now eager to get on with it after the excitement that had filled their lives during he past days. Yes, definitely eager.
She signedthe report on the PADD, then handed it back to the Ensign. She strode across engineering to the main console, checked on the warp engines- holding at warp 5 with no problems- looked over the shields- in fineworking order- and made sure secondary systems were running fine.
Done with that, she glanced over efficiency ratings. It had fallen just a bit below what she considered acceptable- horrible under the circumstances. Quickly finishing her check-up, she moved to another console and pulled up a list of systems.
She scrolled down it, looking over the various systems, looking out for any problems.
This typical engineering day brought to you by: Lieutenant Tikal Rawlings, Chief Engineering Officer, USS Denmark
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Post by Lieutenant Collums on Mar 3, 2009 14:09:09 GMT 12
(USS Denmark, CMO's Office - Lieutenant JG C'lia Reten, Lieutenant Matthew Collums - MD2, 0845 hrs)
The candle blew out, and C’lia closed her eyes, the last of the somewhat insane emotions gone. Once she’d FINALLY figured out that she was undergoing the Pon Farr, she’d had one option. Meditation. It had taken all day and all night, but it seemed like it was over.
Finally.
Her eyes opened, and were calm. Her moment of revelation was interrupted by the impatient mewing of Tezza.
"Oh, right, I need to feed you," said C’lia with a slight smile. However, the cat’s mewing became more insistant as she refused to touch her food. C’lia frowned. She reached out her hand to stroke the cat’s side, but it refused to let her touch a certain spot.
Well, that would be an issue. With a quick swoop of the hand, she caught up the cat, tucking the insensitive side against her, and being careful not to touch the sensitive spot. She ran her hand through hair that was, if possible, more unruly than usual, in an attempt to somewhat tame it. A few minutes later, she walked into sickbay, looking rumpled, tired, and slightly concerned.
Matt's in his office with his feet up on the desk, although he's clearly reviewing a PADD in his hand intently, tapping with a stylus on one edge of it. Despite the casual posture, his brow is furrowed, as though concerned, a slight twitch of his lips which are firmly pressed together the only movement aside from his eyes, which flick and dance as they skip from pertinent bit to pertinent bit, absorbing the information thereon. It takes him about 30 seconds before he glances up, then a smile splits his face. "Come on in, C'lia!" Feet hit the floor with a light thump, and he turns so he is sitting in the chair normally, partially facing the desk, mostly facing C'lia.
C’lia slowly came in, cradling the rather small cat in her arms. However, she still managed to pull off the "vulcan" attitude. "Good morning, Doctor," she said, her voice controlled, but tired. "My cat seems to have an issue with me touching her here," she said, indicating the place, "Normally, I would not come to you with this issue, but cats tend to be demanding when they have issues."
She paused in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe.
"Come on in, let's take a look-see." He opens a drawer, withdrawing a tricorder and patting the desk. "Just put the feline down here, and we'll figure out what's wrong in a jiffy. What's her name?" He keys the console up as he talks, although he's mostly looking at C'lia's face for subtle signs of stress that typically are associated with pet-related difficulties. He'd had a lab assistant for a while that would get so attached to the cute critters... and even some of the ugly ones.
C'lia sighed, pushing her somewhat tangled hair off her face. "Thanks," she said in a relieved tone. She set the cat down on the counter, where it looked up at her quizzically, and at Matt suspiciously. "She's been bothering me to no end when I was meditating to get over my Pon Farr." She stroked the cat's head absently while she talked, and blinked like she'd like to sleep more. She seems to cringe when I touch her here," she said, indicating the spot. "She actually bit me," she said, touching her hand. "I decontaminated it, and can survive," she added quickly.
"No problem." Matt lays one hand out flat on the table near the cat's head, palm up so that the animal can get to know his scent a little if she would like. "You didn't say her name?" His other hand maintains a considerable distance, taking scans with the tricorder at as far away as he can reasonably put it and still get some resolution. Man, it's been a while since I worked on an animal. A couple Cardie whatsits that had been injured, but probably a year or more since I've had one in my lab. Hope I don't miss anything. He smiles lightly at C'lia, but his eyes are for the cat and the tricorder.
C’lia shook her head lightly, as if she was shaking something off. "Tezza. Her name is Tezza. She sighed. "She actually came forward with me to this time," she said smoothly, without much inflection. The cat leaned forward and sniffed Matt’s hand tenativly, looking at it as if she could divine its meaning. She licked it, tentatively, then pushed her head against it demandingly, asking to be pet.
C’lia bit the inside of her lip, almost imperceptibly, to keep from giggling.
Matt's fingers curl up and gently scratch at the neck and behind the ears of the cat, then rubbing and scratching back and forth up and down the neck and shoulders. He carefully avoided the area identified as problematic, but used the cat's distraction to bring the tricorder a little closer, the display highlighting a growth in the furry feline's side. Not much bigger than the tip of a finger, really... but it's still large for something as small as a cat. "Here's the problem. A small benign tumor is pressing against the nerves in this region here. An injection of Vertinax Tholizone will clear that up in a few minutes. I'll have to get some from the supply cabinet, though." His eyes glance out into the sickbay proper, taking in the tan-colored storage container as though confirming it hadn't grown legs and wandered off on it's own.
C’lia blinked. "It is very good to know," she said. "There are a few perks to living in this century," she said in a lighter voice. She pulled her hand through her midbrown, dark gold-streaked hair in an attempt to silence it. She was sure she looked like a wreck. Lifting her hand from the cat’s fur, she managed to calm some of the worst of it as Matt looked off at the cabinet as if to reassure himself that it still existed.
"All right, if you'll take over the cat for a minute, I'll get the medication." His fingers continue to work on the ears of the cat for a moment before he finally rises from the desk. He does note the last few moments of her hair-checking antics and smiles a little, knowing that concern for an animal or loved one frequently caused the little things to go by the wayside. Like hygeine and hair care. Still, she was composed in the
moment, unlike many others. A quick step carries him out of the office, to the supply cabinet, where he ends up stooping over and reaching into the very back to get the correct medicine with a little grunting noise, then he rises and returns with a loaded hypospray. A few adjustments for dose, and he asks C'lia, "Care to hold Tezza? The sound of the hypo sometimes frightens animals. It's not loud, mind, just a little puff of air, really, but she'd probably like to be in the arms of someone she trusts."
C’lia gave a slightly startled laugh, and picked up the cat. "She is somewhat more resiliant than that, Doctor. You forget, we both came from the time of shots and sutures." She curled her hands carefully around the cat, though she was squirming a bit. She stroked her, using a bit of telepathy to calm the cat down.
Matt gently approaches, then uses his fingers to probe the cat's side ahead of the tender spot. Aw, man... where's the vein? No... not here.... over a little... After moving his fingers around in the area for a good twenty seconds, he finally finds the subtle change that indicates where the vein was, and pressed the hypospray to the point. The sharp hiss indicates the injection of the chemical compound into the animal's bloodstream, followed by Matt stepping back. "Hard to find veins under fur."
C’lia nodded. "I suppose that has always been a difficultly." She paused. "Doctor Collums," you say I should tell the captain about my..." she paused, searching for the right word, then gave up. "Anyway, I’m not sure how I should do it," she said, slipping into a contraction. She sat down in the chair, setting the cat thoughtfully on the table, where it gave a slightly annoyed chirp and leaped back on C’lia’s lap.
Matt picks up the tricorder again and scans the cat as he looks up into C'lia's eyes. "Just tell him the truth. I could be there with you to back up your claim, of course, if you'd like, but there's one thing I've learned about Yarzin... he prefers straight talk." A glance at the tricorder, and he adds, "It's gone already."
C’lia nodded. "That’s good," she said, gathering the cat up in her arms as she spoke. She hugged the cat to her chest as she paused. "I just" It took me quite a while to convince you, and you’re much more... you believe things far more easily than the Captain does. And what if he contacts Starfleet command?" she paused again, and blinked. Her voice showed the distress that she was covering.
"What if he does? You think Yarzin's hard to convince of something? Try convincing Starfleet that you're not just making up something like this." Matt smiles easily, putting a hand on her shoulder and squeezing lightly before letting it drop to his side. "I think I can convince him not to kick it up the chain, because I don't believe there's a clear or present risk involved... just the potential for one. Besides, I spent quite a while at Starfleet HQ in the Med Research division. There's not much more they could do there that can't be done out here... with a few notable exceptions, but we can cross those wormholes when we come to 'em."
C’lia shook her head slightly. "I’m just being human," she muttered. "And there is a risk involved." She paused. "If this gets out, I will have to leave Starfleet." The cat was purring contentedly, totally oblivious to her mood. "And Starfleet is the most logical choice to find out how I got here."
"That's not true at all, C'lia. They don't toss people out for having an unusual happening in their past. If so, they'd have had to throw out 85% of the early exploration pioneers and some 10% of active duty officers today. Not to mention that one ship... what was the name of it? I heard about it in one of my briefings, but they were basically flung forward nearly a hundred years."
C’lia looked sharply up at him. "I don’t remember. But a hundred years is... like from Captain Kirks time to ours. I was flung forward three hundred years. My credibility as an officer would be in question. After all, I didn’t learn calculus when I was eight. I learned it when I was sixteen." She paused, then sighed. "It's inevitable, I suppose."
"I think you will find that it you will still be accepted without issue. It'll be a footnote in your record at most, not even worthy of consideration. And considering my so-called calculus skills at 8, I wouldn't be dissing the fact that you didn't learn them that young. Most people don't." He smiles gently at her. "And, of course, you'll always be okay in my book."
C’lia nodded, then looked up at him. "But it might not turn out well. Especially since I don’t know how I got here." Her dark brown eyes were worried. "I... I don’t know... especially how Captain Falla will react."
"Captain Falla will react like a true professional, I'm sure. It'll feel nice when you can be honest about it rather than quake in fear of the risk of revealing it." Matt sits on the desk, swinging one foot gently back and forth, his eyes looking at hers. "Besides, as I said, once it's known, it'll become a little-referenced footnote in your record. Your shipmates will likely never know unless you tell them about it."
C’lia sighed. "I suppose you are correct. I will end up telling him sometime today... or maybe this week." She paused. "Today. If I put it off much longer I will not have the ability to do so." She nodded. "Thank you, Doctor Collums." She stroked the cat’s fur, standing swiftly and hugging the cat to her.
"Good, I'm glad to hear it. If you need me to come along, let me know." Matt rises in response to her standing up. "Since we've shoved off on our new mission, it should be quiet for him today, until we get to where we pick up the supplies."
C'lia shrugged. "I am sure the Captain will be very busy doing... Captain-like duties," she said serenely, and with a totally straight face. She paused, considering the Doctor's offer. "I would have more credibility if you also advocated my story," she observed. "At least he doesn't already think you're crazy.." she said wryly, deviating from her norm.
"Oh, don't worry. Around here, crazy's a normal way of life." Matt's smile is broad enough to show his teeth and dimple his cheeks ever so slightly. "I'll be kicking the operations people to assign the space for the supplies early on, just so I can inventory and inspect it right off. I don't want them sneaking in second-rate half-baked medicines from shady neutral zone planets into those kits."
C'lia cracked a very small smirk. "I am the Chief of operations people. You can come to me with your complaints. I believe I'll go do my duty shift before I..." she sighed. "Before I end up revealing that I'm alien in more ways than one."
"Aw, man! But I like discovering things like that!" Another grins, then he says, "Thanks for coming in and chatting. I needed a break from staring at that PADD. And just bring Tezza by tomorrow for a quick double check to make sure the tenderness is entirely gone." Rising, he maneuvers back around the desk and shoves a few books and PADDs around before sitting back down.
C'lia nodded, ran a hand through her wild hair, and went to brush her hair and drop off her cat before she reported for duty on the bridge... and she WOULD be on time.
This joint post brought to you by: Lt. JG C'lia Reten, Chief Operations Officer, USS Denmark Lt. Matthew Collums, Chief Medical Officer, USS Denmark
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Post by Captain Falla on Mar 3, 2009 14:10:30 GMT 12
(USS Denmark, Main Bridge -- Lieutenant Reten, Captain Falla -- MD2, 0900)
Lieutenant Junior Grade C’lia Reten strode into the bridge - having brushed her hair and applied a little makeup. She had changed into her uniform and looked much better than she had earlier. Much more together, calm, and Vulcan. She nodded to the bridge officers as she entered, and spoke as she took her position. "Lieutenant JG Reten here for duty, sir," she said in a calm, controlled tone.
Yarzin looked back and nodded. "Lieutenant," he acknowledged.
The space around them seemed relatively calm, and a silence had settled over the room. I have to do it now, or else I'll never be able to do it, she suddenly decided, opening her mouth. "Captain Falla? May I speak to you in your ready room," she asked.
Yarzin turned around, surprised. "Uh... all right," he replied. "Commander Duron, you have the conn," he announced, standing up and leading the way into the Ready Room.
C’lia followed, and entered. She really sensed the door slide shut behind her, and stood at attention. Her mind ranged far and near in a way to broach the subject tactfully.
(USS Denmark, Ready Room -- Lieutenant Reten, Captain Falla -- MD2, 0902)
Yarzin sits down at the desk. "Please, take a seat, Lieutenant. You called me, after all," he requests. Wonder what's going on here. She doesn't seem the type to easily have problems with things...
C’lia took her seat, and lifted her chin. "I am afraid I have not been entirely... well, I have an issue that I have kept more secret than I should have. It isn’t directly dangerous, but it could be very dangerous," she finally said. She sounded so garbled... and Unvulcan. She mentally kicked herself and waited for him to respond.
"Stop babbling and just say it, C'lia," Yarzin chided her. Maybe dropping the ranks will help, here... Babbling usually means someone is afraid to say something...
C'lia looked at him, and made strong eye contact. "I... I'm not from the twenty-fourth century," she finally said in a smooth voice. "I grew up on twenty-first century Earth."
"I see," Yarzin raised an eyebrow in reply. He called up her profile. Nope... no mention of this. "And this isn't in your record because..."
"I was caught in a temporal rift when I was fifteen. I was a child. I kept it secret, made backstories. I was afraid." She didn't look away from his eyes. She related the facts in a simple, calm voice. They were only the facts.
At once, Falla sympathized. Well, this may only be my second host, but I still see fear as a constant in this galaxy... You have a point, Yarzin thought back. "Tell me then, C'lia, what has changed since then?" he asked, trying to keep his voice low and inviting.
C’lia paused. "Doctor Collums talked me into it." She paused again, letting herself organize her next thought. "He helped me see that hiding it is a detriment to helping me find out how I got here." She looked down, slightly embarrassed. "And that hiding it brings more suspicion than is worth. The gaps in my record brought Doctor Collums with questions. He believed I had sabotaged the Tori. I now see that it is necessary for me to at least have my commanding officer know where I come from, if only to fend off future attacks of the like."
"I see," Yarzin said, then thought for a minute. ...Simple temporal anomalies are nothing new to space travel... "Well... I really don't see how it's relevant. I mean, you're here, obviously. Your origins are irrelevant. At least, to me they are. They only thing that matters to me is the quality of your work."
"Which I was afraid would come under question," she countered. "I didn't learn any advanced sciences or mathamatics until I came forward. I am capable of doing my job. I did work very hard, and am capable of doing my work, and doing it well." She blinked, and met his eyes again.
Yarzin blinks, surprised. "Why would when you learned something matter? If you learned it, it's learned," Yarzin snorts.
C'lia winced. It seemed Yarzin had missed something crucial. "Captain... I was born and gone before the warp engine was even thought of on Earth. I was born around 2001, and was gone about 1016. Before Zefram Cochrane. Before Warp drive theory. It could be assumed that I would not be as proficient as other engineers. Many people would think that." She paused. "I did learn it, and learn it well. However, many people will not believe me, in that matter at least."
"Fortunately, Lieutenant, you don't have to answer to them. You are already a department head, which means the only people you answer to are me and Commander Duron," Yarzin explained. "So it doesn't matter what other people think of you."
"Remember, Captain, I was not a department head until this posting," she said. "Now it may not matter, but it has in the past." She sighed. "Anyway, there is a... danger. I have been searching for the catalyst of my time-jumping. However, I do not know what brought me here. Temporal anomalies don't just happen on planets without a catalyst."
"Well, as to that..." Yarzin thought for a minute again. "...all I can think of is to tell you to keep searching. But until you find it, there's nothing we can do about it. So why worry? And you're a department head now, C'lia... leave the past in the past."
C'lia looked up at him, almost cooly. "My memories shall not interfere with my work, Captain. But if you had left everyone you knew, your family, your friends behind in another time, wouldn't you wonder about how you had gotten there? I will not let them interfere with my work, but I will not forget them, or stop searching." That was the difference between people then and people now. People then MADE themselves. They were so... complacent now. In times when you could just replicate what you wanted, there was no motivation. The simple drive to explore only went so far. They expected everyone to be the same, everyone to be just as idyllic and satisfied as they were. She closed her eyes. She'd learned drive and ambition then, but what use were they now? Now she had a goal, a prize. What would happen when that was gone?
"No one is asking you to, C'lia. In fact, that's the point I'm making. You are your own person. There is no point in worrying about what others might think about something, if otherwise would be contrary to your nature," Yarzin explained. "It was like that one hundred years ago, and it is now. Admittedly, I don't know about 300 years ago, but I would guess that it is about the same."
C'lia smiled slightly. You didn't often see a Vulcan smile. "It was very different three hundred years ago, Captain. It wasn't better than it was now... but neither was it worse. Despite what the history books say. Goodness knows we had more fun," she added, almost lightly.
"Please, C'lia, call me Yarzin," Yarzin demurred. This... is impressive. "You've earned it, with telling me this as bravely as you have."
"... You of all people should know that, that time doesn't change anything except people." she looked at him quizzically. "I'm just glad I didn't have to drag you down to sickbay to see the Doctor's scannings. Doctor Collums didn't believe me. I practically had to drag him down to sickbay so he could take his own scans." She blinked. "Thank you for believing me... Yarzin."
"Indeed. Well, it's not unreasonable. Temporal anomalies do happen, after all. Besides, there's absolutely no benefit to you making this up," Yarzin pointed out. "So I'll ask you this... do *you* think you are someone I can depend on? You've explained about other people, but I'm more concerned about you."
C'lia looked him in the eye, suddenly serious. "I am not of the replicate and recycle generation, Yarzin. I said time doesn't change anything except people, and the people now are different. You know this. You are joined to a simboyant, are you not?" She laid her hand down on the table, softly. "I... when I traveled through time, I saw history. As it passed. The events. I'm still trying to sort through what I saw then. It is so much. But I can and will follow orders."
Yarzin nods slowly. "Well... if there's ever anything you need, C'lia... my door's always open."
C'lia nodded. "Thank you, Yarzin."
"Unless there's anything more... shall we return to the Bridge?"
C'lia nodded. "I believe that is all." She stood, and respectfully waited for the Captain to leave before her.
Yarzin stood up and headed back to the Bridge.
This JP brought to you by: Captain Yarzin Falla, Commanding Officer, USS Denmark Lieutenant JG C'lia Reten, Chief Operations Officer, USS Denmark
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Post by Lieutenant Collums on Mar 4, 2009 17:10:09 GMT 12
(USS Denmark, Sickbay -- Ensign Lak, Lieutenant Collums -- MD2, 0915)
Ensign Lak had a very bad headache. Guess I gotta learn to actually hang on to the rails, he thought ruefully as he strode in to sickbay. "Is anyone there?" he asked?
Matt glanced up from the large drafting PADD on his desk, the stylus in his hand poised over it, noting the uniform before anything else. "In here!" He raises his hand to motion the crewman inside his office, eyes returning to the PADD as his hand taps lightly on the side of it.
Lak strides into the office and announces, "Doctor, I happen to have a really bad headache."
"Oh, sit down, please." He points at the chair across the desk from him, then jots down the last couple notes on the device, as though clearing them from his head so he could focus entirely on the patient. Finally, he looks up. Holy moley... a ferengi in Starfleet? Either someplace just froze over involuntarily, or there was something more about ferengi he didn't know about. "I'm Matt." He manages some kind of screwed up smile.
"Hi Matt... Yeah, I fell down off a Jeffries tube railing and landed on a lobe," Lak explained. "So... this part of my head," Lak taps his left lobe, "...really hurts."
"What's your name?" Matt rises, snagging a medical tricorder out of the desk and trying to call up xenobiology information on Ferengi in his head. I took some class on their physiology somewhere in time... or was it a lecture? He maneuvers around the desk and turns the tricorder to scan the indicated place.
"I am Lak," Lak informed him simply. "Ensign Lak."
"Nice to meet you, Lak." A few more passes, and Matt finally declares, "Bruised to the skull, but otherwise not life-threatening." Check the scans against baseline, and look up Ferengi physiology, just to make sure. "A painkiller and anti-inflammatory, and you'll be back to normal. Any drug allergies I need to know about?"
"Uh... all the expensive ones," Lak replied, winking. Not that I'd want to pay for this in any case... "Uh... not that I'm aware of," he clarified more seriously.
Matt chuckles, then smiles. "Well, don't worry a bit... I'll send you the bill when I get around to faking one." He tosses the tricorder onto the desk, then takes a quick scan of his medical records to enure there were no surprises therein. "Yeah, you should be fine with the garden-variety stuff."
"Sounds good to me. So, you run this place?" Lak queried.
"That's what the nameplate says, at least. I'm head of Medical. What's your job on the Denmark?" He goes sorting through a small cabinet at one side, pulling out a hypospray and loading it with a cartridge.
"Assistant Chief of Security. A position, I hope, that does not require climbing up Jeffries tube railings too often," Lak answered.
Matt laughs, then comes around, carefully checking for the vein before injecting the drugs. "You never know in Security. But, since everyone on this ship has to know Engineering like a pro, I'd expect that we'll all be getting regular trips into the bowels of the Denmark." His voice dropped to a faux-deep bass as he emphasized the words, as though it were a B-grade horror flick made by a second-rate entertainment company.
Lak laughed at that, "Well, hopefully the holodeck counts as part of that," he said. Because that's about all the Engineering I'm good at.
"You spend a lot of time in the holodeck?"
"Well... yes and no. I do enjoy using the holodeck sometimes, but mainly I write programs. In fact... I was working on a program for Lieutenant Hawkings when the Tori was evacuated," Lak explained.
"Interesting. I'll have to keep that in mind." Matt tosses the hypospray onto the desk, then turns his eye to the young ferengi, itching to ask what brought him into Starfleet, but... that could wait. It was probably the first question everyone asked, after all. "That should take care of the pain, and by tomorrow, the bruising should be basically gone. It'll be a trifle tender for another day or two, but as long as you don't smack it with a spanner wrench or something, you shouldn't even notice it."
"Thanks, Doc," Lak smiled. "Well, ah... I'll be going then, I guess..."
"Feel free to stop in any time, Lak. I always enjoy a good conversation... I just wish people didn't have to get hurt to come in for it." He smiles again, adding, "I hope you like it here."
"Thanks, Doc," Lak repeated then headed out. Well, he seems like a cool enough doctor. At least he's not a jerk, like some are... I hope none of the other doctors are jerks, though... Well, anyways, on to continue my rounds.
Not a bad guy... hope he does come around for a chit-chat. Be a nice change of pace from the typical 'So, nurse, seen any interesting carotid arteries lately?' conversations. Matt turns around and sits down at his desk, picking up the stylus again, although he glances at the door. A Ferengi in Starfleet? Man, I want to know why, now...
This joint post brought to you in part by: Lieutenant Matthew Collums, Chief Medical Officer, USS Denmark -and- Ensign Lak,Security Officer, USS Denmark (played by Captain Yarzin Falla)
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Post by Lieutenant JG Reten on Mar 21, 2009 14:23:47 GMT 12
(USS Denmark, Sickbay - Lieutenant Collums, Lieutenant Tanith, Lieutenant Martinez - MD2, 1000 hrs)
Aine woke up, panicked. She had no idea where she was, and her head hurt like anything. She stood up, and walked to the only familiar thing she saw--her luggage. After pawing through it, she found her orders onto the Denmark, and the ship's map. Finally, she knew where she was, once she studied the papers. Locating her room, she found out where on the ship she was. Her head still hurting, she decided to go to the medic. The meditation that put her to sleep should have made the pain go away. She decided to see what was wrong, and headed into sickbay.
Adrian pulled a few containers out of the boxes, inspecting them with sharp eyes. They didn’t seem… He sighed, exasperated. Someone had obviously gotten the wrong containers. He’d get whoever was in charge of this… who was it? C’lia Reten. Right. He tapped his badge. “Lieutenant Martinez to Lt. JG Reten,” he said.
In her room, C’lia groaned. She scraped the combadge off the table and tapped it. “You had better have a very good reason for dragging me out here, Martinez,” she said coolly into the combadge. She ran a hand through her spiky, dark brown hair as she spoke, calming it down a bit.
“You got the wrong containers this morning. Get me the smaller size, please,” he added the please on the end as if he were conferring a huge favor.
C’lia groaned. “Fine, I’ll get Ensign Whats-his-name on it. Now let me sleep.”
“I believe you tried that before, and we got the wrong containers. I would like you to get them.”
C’lia ended the transmission and headed for the door, muttering something about idiot doctors.
Adrian looked up at a patient coming through the door. “Hello. Welcome to Sickbay. What’s your problem,” he asked, his voice edging on annoyance from dealing with the somewhat difficult Head Ops Officer.
“I have a throbbing headache that won't go away. And the meditation that I usually use isn't working.”
"Medication? Which one are you using?" said Adrian, flipping out a medical tricorder. His voice edged on a deep sigh, as if he was deigning himself to help her.
Aine shook her head. "I'm not taking any medication, doctor," she said, not realizing, through her pain, that he misunderstood her.
Adrian sighed. "But you just said you were - oh, never mind," he said. "Meditation, right?" he said. "I hate to inform you, but meditation doesn't do much for headaches." He paused, motioning for her to sit down on the bed, and noting with some curiosity that she was half-klingon and half-vulcan.
"It usually does for my headaches," she mutter, following his orders. "My meditations usually open up a certain...I don't know. But when I go deep, my physical symptoms usually go away."
Adrian raised his eyebrows like he actually cared. "Ah. Well, you'll find that spiritual mumbo-jumbo - " he cut himself off for a moment, kneading down Aine's spine, "Doesn't usually hold water in Sickbay." He paused. "I've found the problem. If you'll lay down on your back, I'll correct it. Miss...?" There was a question for her name.
"Spiritual!" Aine exploded. "You obviously don't know everything in the medical field. Why do you think counting to ten usually works when someone is upset?!? It holds a lot of water, Medic!" She refrains from lying down to give the man a glare. "And it's Aine Maiara Tanith! Primary Counselor to you!" She finally lies down. "What's the problem?"
"I don't know anything? If you believe meditating relieves headaches, maybe you should consider resigning your comission," Adrian shot back. "Some of the Vertabre in your back are misaligned. I'll realign them, but it will take a few hours for the muscles and nerves to settle. The headache should be lessened in a few minutes though." He turned, placed his hands on her lower back, and performed a slightly odd manuver that snapped a few vertabre into place
It wouldn't hurt, but it would feel slightly strange. It was a fast movement, but the headache should have been relieved almost immidiately.
"I did not say you didn't know anything, doctor," Aine said, "I said you didn't know everything." She almost felt sorry for the doctor, until she heard his suggestion of resignation. "Do you know of people that can hear other people's thoughts. Feel other people's feelings? Well I can do both!." After the realignment of her back, Aine did immediately feel better. She closed her eyes and hummed a single low note for three seconds. Her muscles and nerves settle down, and didn't, as Adrian said, take a few hours to settle down. She stood up, and looked down her nose at him. "Now, if that is all, I have a Captain Falla to find. Good day to you, Medic."
Matt would enter the sickbay proper from his office at this point, having overheard some of the commotion as the two newest entrants into his domain began raising their voices to levels inappropriate for normal sickbay operation. At least, normal sickbay operation that didn't involve the use of a phaser set on stun. He grins a little. Although Adrian hadn't thus far impressed him, he seemed to be vaguely competent at his job. Enough that Matt wasn't going to kick him off, at least. Still, he had the attitude of a drunken alligator and the bedside manner to match. "Is there something wrong?" His eyes are a tad weary, but otherwise his bearing and demeanor indicates full attention. His civilian clothes under the medical lab coat are tan slacksand a white shirt.
Adrian laced his fingers together, annoyed. "Yes, Doctor. This Councilor insists on spouting mumbo-jumbo nonsense when I'm trying to treat her, and then is attempting to walk off without letting me finish the treatment." The contempt in his voice showed clearly now.
Aine started to head out the door, only to almost run into a security personnel. "Oh, hello," she said. Answering his question, she continued, "My headache is better." Turning to the doctor, she asked, "What else is there to do?"
"What kind of so-called mumbo-jumbo, Adrian?" He steps over to the examination table, then asks, "Where's her med scans?"
Adrian handed him the tricorder. "Things like 'meditating cures headaches,' he mimicked with an annoyed tone. "It looks like she's been attempting to supress it for ages. Her back's a mess. Nothing that a few full Adjustments wouldn't solve, but..."
"I didn't say meditating cures other people's headaches. Just generally my own." With the other person in the room, she was able to latch onto his calmness. "I'm attempting to suppress, what, medic?"
"Actually, meditation is an effective and accepted remedy for over 87 different classifications of headaches in some 300 or more species. While... uh..." He takes a closer look at the scans and flips to the medical records for the person. "...Aine here needs adjustment in her L3 and L4 vertibrae, she could have had a different trigger for her headache entirely." Looking up, he smiles, "Please, lay back down, Ms. Tanith. It won't take much longer."
Aine glared at the doctor. "Of course, Mr..." she trails off, not knowing the new person's name. She lies back down, tapping her fingers against the counter.
"I'm Matt. Matt Collums, the resident head of this here department. Just relax, and let him finish up, then we can get you right out of here." He smiles, then turns as though to head back to his office.
Through the next five or so minutes, Adrian, through manipulation of muscles and several sharp pushes, basically aligned the spine. "Now, you need to let the muscles settle without over-exerting them, or you'll be coming back in for a few more sessions," he said, almost haughtily. "Things are still shifting around, so don't do anything drastic."
Aine suppressed a groan when Matt left. She'd have to calm down without his influence, now, but she felt that that would be impossible with this medic guy. She kept her groans to only two while Adrian, happily, in her opinion, "realigned" her spine. Flinching, she answered his haughtiness with a very controlled cold voice. "I will *not* do anything too strenuous, Mr..." She didn't really want to know this guy's name.
"Martinez. Lieutenant Adrian Martinez," he said, turning to re-scan the readings.
"Well, you don't have to worry about me, Martinez. I don't plan on lifting any heavy objects."
This JP brought to you by Lieutenant Adrian Martinez, Assistant Chief Medical Officer, USS Denmark
Lieutenant Aine Tanith, Primary Counselor, USS Denmark
Lieutenant Matthew Collums, Chief Medical Officer, USS Denmark
And a brief stint with
Lt. JG C'lia Reten, Chief Ops Officer, USS Denmark
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Post by Captain Falla on Mar 25, 2009 13:00:08 GMT 12
(USS Denmark, Main Bridge -- Captain Falla, Lieutenant Tanith -- MD2, 1020)
Aine left the sickbay after a slight nod to Martinez. I hope I don't have to come here too often. He hates me. She made her way to the bridge. And the Captain will hate me, too, she tells herself, for not reporting on time. I wonder if he even knew I was on the ship. As the turbo lift dumped her onto the bridge, she looked around nervously. "Captain," she starts, "I'm reporting for duty." Aine tries to smile.
Yarzin looks behind him and sees a quite unlikely face greeting him. Klingon-Vulcan hybrid? I don't recall... he thought to himself. "And who might you be?"
She stands formally, saluting. "I am Aine Maiara Tanith, Sir." After a slight pause, she continued, "Counselor, Sir." Now doesn't that just sound dumb, she thought to herself as she heard what she was saying.
A Klingon counselor on this madhouse? Now that's asking for trouble... But, I got what I got. Yarzin thinks. Oh, give her a chance, Falla chides. Right. But we'll see. "Welcome aboard, Counselor. I believe you will have your hands full before too long on this ship. For now, take a seat and relax," Yarzin requested, gesturing at the vacant third center seat.
Counselor Tanith completes her salute. "Yes, Sir," she says, more into her element, now. "I'll just bet," she hides a chuckle, thinking of Adrian. "Of course, Sir. If I may." And with that, she sits down.
Yarzin nods, waits a minute, then asks, "So, I never got a chance to read your service record or anything... how did a Klingon-Vulcan hybrid get into counseling?" he asks curiously.
"Well, Sir. You see--well, of course you don't." She chides herself. "You do know how Vulcans are...logical, correct?"
Yarzin nods once. An inarticulate counselor... just what I needed. Great.
Sensing his annoyance, she shifts in her chair. "Well, when I was a little child aboard the THE Kaur, I had learned a great many things. There were many different kinds of people. And I realized that the craziness that many Vulcans don't understand was a different kind of logic."
I have no idea what she just said, Yarzin thought. He stayed silent though, hoping she'd elaborate.
"Sir," Aine continues. "The THE Kaur is a slave-trading vessel. The THE stands both for "The Handed Enemy," and "To Hand the Enemy". But it is unusual that the former Captain had sold the slaves to better people than had them before. Most others in the Trade are not that kind." She looked away as she remembered the horrors of life--other peoples' lives.
"My life there, while well, was better than others. As I was taught there, I watched the interactions of the different races and saw such pain that there were no wounds." She pauses, struggling to keep the sadness out of her voice.
Yarzin blinked. Slave trading is outlawed in the Federation! "Uh, where does the THE Kaur operate generally? If it's anywhere close to Federation space... something must be done."
"And, uh... fair enough, I guess."
"Not close to Federation space at all, Sir." She nods. "Though two Fleet got wind of it. They had to buy back one of their own. Not all ships are like the one I grew up on. This ship treated them well, though there was no one to council the people. And the quarters were very lavish in comparison to other ships. Everyone received an education."
"I see..."
"Well, even with the good situation of the ship's people, there were still arguing, violence, and the like. I had heard Iri's father telling him that there were other ships, and they weren't good at all. But I...I looked on and saw that I could do things. I intermingled with them, even though I wasn't to be sold. I talked to them and got to know them." She paused. "And I even helped some with their problems."
"I see," Yarzin commented neutrally. Make enough sense, I guess. "Pardon the question."
"What question, Sir?" She paused, looking into her Captain's eyes. "Ah. But that was the reason that I got into counseling. Because, if I could help these people, they would become better, would be able to interact well with others. And that would affect the people they interact with."
Yarzin nods. Well, she seems to know what she's doing at least. "Then good luck, Lieutenant. You'll need it."
"Thank you, Sir," Aine responds. "I will need it, I know. I look around and see many things I can help with." She smiles.
Yarzin smiles back and starts looking forward again. Well, at least my crew seems competent, if not the greatest.
Aine looks forward again after smiling back. Then, something she probably shouldn't have asked, "Why did you want to be a Captain?"
"I can't really say I did. It just sort of... happened," Yarzin admitted. "With the Dominion War, we had a sudden shortage of personnel. I find myself in a 13-person oversize runabout ferrying cargo all over the place. Then I get promoted, and end up here."
"Wow," Aine says in wonder. That was something special. "Do you like it here?" Aine hoped that he did, because she liked it here. "And did you like handling the runabout?"
"I did. It was an extension of the most exciting time of my life. I'd spent most of my Starfleet career as an Engineer, and everyone on that ship was capable of talking on my level. Eventually," Yarzin smirked. "But, all things must change, Lieutenant. If you don't change what you do on occasion, your passion fades."
"On your level--eventually," she chuckles, grinning. Serious, she responds, "I don't think my passion will fade. I have always loved helping people as a counselor. And I always will." She smiles, a dreamy, far-away look in her eyes.
"You're young. You'll see. Eventually," Yarzin replies, sighing.
I already do see, Aine thinks to herself. Her eyes refocus, and she looks down. "Yes, Sir," she says quietly. Unconsciously, her left hand clenches. Keep it together, she tells herself, knowing that she was about to lose it. You can't do everything, but you can do your best. And that's what will matter in the end.
Yarzin notices the hand out of the corner of his eye. "Hey, facts of life are nothing to get worked up about. You've got plenty of time before it will occur, and then, it will occur on your own time."
"It's not my facts of life, Sir, that I'm worried about." Or perhaps it was. Oh, Iri...why?
"Um... alright. Perhaps... another time?" Yarzin queried, concerned now. I do wonder who she means, but I get the sense that the bridge is not the place to ask *that* question.
"Of course, Sir." On better footing, now, she looks at him and smiles before turning to the view. "Another time will be well."
This JP brought to you by: Captain Yarzin Falla, Commanding Officer, USS Denmark Lieutenant Aine Tanith, Primary Counselor, USS Denmark
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Post by Captain Falla on Mar 28, 2009 1:43:58 GMT 12
(USS Denmark, Main Bridge -- Captain Falla, Ensign Lak -- MD2, 1600)
"Sir, we are approaching Prekia," Ensign T'Mira informed the Captain.
"Reduce speed to one-half impulse. Standard orbit," Yarzin commands.
"Aye, sir. Standard orbit."
"Hail the planet, Mr. Lak."
"Hailing... Channel open sir."
"This is Captain Yarzin Falla of the USS Denmark. We are here to convey medical supplies to Cardassia Prime. Are you ready to recieve us?"
A Vulcan face appeared on the screen. "The supplies are ready for transport. However, our transporter systems are currently non-operational. You will have to coordinate the transport from your end. We are sending coordinates."
"Thank you," Yarzin acknowledged. "Denmark out."
After the channel was cut, Yarzin tapped his commbadge. "Dr. Collums, Dr. Martinez, and Ensign Hax report to Transporter Room 1. Commander Duron, you have the bridge." Yarzin then stood up and headed in to the turbolift. "Transporter Room 1," he commanded it. The lift slid shut.
This plot-moving post brought to you by: Captain Yarzin Falla, Commanding Officer, USS Denmark Ensign Lak, Assistant Chief of Security, USS Denmark
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Post by Lieutenant Collums on Mar 28, 2009 15:48:08 GMT 12
(Prekia, Medical Supply Production Facility -- Captain Falla, Lieutenant Collums, Lieutenant Martinez -- MD2, 1605)
The Away Team beamed onto the facility. It was rather crowded, with durasteel boxes reaching about ten feet high. A human woman approaches the Away Team. "Welcome to the Medical Supply Production Facility. I'm Dr. Lancelet," she informs them. "Quite frankly, the sooner you get this stuff off this facility, the better." Lancelet looks around nervously. No one else seemed to have heard, fortunately.
"Greetings, Doctor. I'm Captain Yarzin Falla, of the Starship Denmark. This is Doctor Collums, Doctor Martinez, and Ensign Hax," Yarzin points out each member of the team in turn. "The doctors will be looking this stuff over before it gets loaded, and Ensign Hax will coordinate the actual transport."
Matt extends his hand to Dr. Lancelet for a handshake. "Nice to meet you at last, Doctor. At your convenience, I'd like to get your last set of scans on this material for comparison with the current ones, plus the storage records so I can check for breakdown in the medicinals. How's everything else going?"
Lancelet returns the handshake. As she shakes, Matt gets the sense that she's really not interested. The handshake is rather weak. "The computer records at this facility are open to your perusal. And we're fine, just fine." Lancelet insists, a bit too quickly.
"Please, just do it. I have things to do. Starfleet is capable of handling its own transports, right? Good." With that, Lancelet turns on her heel and starts to walk away.
Matt blinks a few times. "Uh... huh. Hey, Adrian..." He turns to the man and lowers his voice, "...did that seem... forced to you?"
Adrian shrugged. "The good Doctor seemed stressed. Like she was rushing to hide something," he said, bluntly, as usual. He shrugged, like it was to be expected.
"Yes, well, I hadn't expected such an abruptness myself. Usually, in a mission like this, I get an invitation to dinner or something. Not here..." Yarzin added his own low voice to the conversation.
Ensign Hax looked nervous. "Do... do any of you feel kind of like you're being watched? You can practically cut the stress in the air with a knife around here."
"I think we should double-check some of these, visually if needed. Are they giving us expired meds? Trying to slip some bad or infected bandages?"
Yarzin nods. "Good idea. I'd help, but medical isn't exactly my 'thing'. So I wouldn't know what to look for. But... Hax and I can go take a look at the computers." If we'll find anything, which I doubt, Yarzin brooded. "If you find anything, report to me. If you don't find anything... report to me when you're done."
"Sure thing, Yarzin... and someone needs to go... ah... pump that Doctor for more information. Subtly."
Adrian smirked. "I volunteer."
"I need you here. There's lots of stuff to check, and the computers won't take long. I'll go after her. When I'm back, tell me what you've found," Yarzin commands.
Adrian rolled his eyes. "Alright," he said, with a sigh, and pulled out his tricorder and began scanning the replies, annoyance faintly written on his face.
(Prekia, Medical Supply Production Facility -- Captain Falla, Lieutenant Collums, Lieutenant Martinez -- MD2, 1830)
As the sun begins to set on the MSPF, Captain Falla returns to the area of the Medical Supplies. He looks like he's run a marathon. "I looked all over the place. Never saw Lancelet. No one would talk to me. The computers don't have anything useful either," Yarzin admitted. "Report, Doctors. You find anything?"
Adrian raised an eyebrow. "They packed too much bio-luminescent gel. What do they think we are, a cargo ship?" he asked, condescendingly.
"The Denmark *is* pretty close to a cargo ship, Lieutenant," Yarzin reminded him. "Anything else?"
Matt's staring at the containers with an expression of disbelief. "Not to mention that these supplies are too perfect. Yarzin, it's like they specifically hand-packed each one to exacting specifications. Far... far neater than it needs to be."
"I see," Yarzin replied. "A little suspicious, but... is there any reason to *not* start beaming this load up? That we can justify to Starfleet, that is." Yarzin asks. Because, somehow, I just don't like how this smells.
Adrian shrugged. "Well, bio-luminescent gel is restricted, isn't it? We were only supposed to have eight. We now have ten."
Matt winces. "...no, I don't see anything actionably wrong. We could just refuse the extra two liters of bio-gel and go with our exact load. Or we can test it all."
Yarzin grimaces. "There's really no point making a big stink. Worst comes to worst, we can keep two liters for ourselves. I trust the two of you with it, if need be. Go ahead and have Hax start loading it all... wherever she went."
Ensign Hax raised her head. "Here, sir... There seems to be some trouble with the transporter, though. The signal keeps... switching, then degrading. I won't be able to beam anything up, sir."
"That'd mean we'd have to load 'em into shuttles... which would take a little more time."
Yarzin looks at Hax, wondering if she's serious, or trying to but them time. Either way, I guess it doesn't matter. "Yarzin to Ensign T'Mira. Take the Esbjerg down to the surface at once. We'll need to begin transport of medical supplies by hand."
"Aye, sir," replies the crisp voice over the comm.
Adrian picked up one of the bio-gel packs, shaking his head slightly. There was something wrong here... He carefully set it back into its place. He paused, then inspected the one closer. It was... green? "Doctor Collums, can you come over here please?" Supposedly, these gel packs were supposed to be blue. However, this green was so close to blue, he'd almost missed it.
Matt comes over to take a look. "What have you got, Adrian?"
"I don't believe this is bio-luminescent gel," he said, handing the container to the other doctor.
Matt takes the container and examines it visually. "It looks fine to me..." After a moment, Matt decides. "Take this to Science Lab and have them run it through the wringer. Just a small amount... enough to make sure it really is what it is labeled."
AFter a moment, the Esbjerg (NCC-65013-03) lands. The hatch opens and Ensign T'Mira walks out. "Ensign T'Mira reporting for away team duty, sir!" T'Mira declares.
Adrian pauses. Me? I'm a doctor, not an Errand monkey... he said, taking the container from the Doctor and heading out to find out where the science lab was.
"At ease, Ensign. Help the doctors and Ensign Hax start loading these supplies. No hurry, though," Yarzin orders. "I'm going to do some more reconnaissance."
Ensign Hax nodded, and picked up the first box and carefully began the long and hard work of loading the shuttle.
Matt groans. "Aw, man... I haven't hand-loaded a shuttle since... um... crap." Matt picks up a box and heads for the shuttle, mumbling something under his breath.
"No hurry Matt. You need a break, don't hesitate," Yarzin reassures him. Alright, now I get to try again at finding someone... see if I can get to know these people. Or something like that.
This JP brought to you by: Captain Yarzin Falla, Commanding, USS Denmark Lieutenant Matthew Collums, Chief Medical Officer, USS Denmark Lietuenant Adrian Martinez, Assistant Chief Medical Officer, USS Denmark
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Post by Lieutenant Tanith on Mar 29, 2009 9:31:07 GMT 12
(Prekia, Medical Supply Production Facility -- Captain Falla, voice of Lt. Tanith -- MD2, 1845)
Yarzin was walking down a corridor in the MSPF when he heard his commbadge chirp.
"Captain," Lt. Tanith said, her worry mounting. "I think... I believe my presence might be needed. What is going on down there?
"Lieutenant," Yarzin replied softly. "Everything is set up very, very nicely. Suspiciously nicely. And the doctor here looked like she had something to hide. But we have nothing concrete. Fortunately, our transporters are down. If you want down, you'll have to join the Esbjerg next time it heads from the Denmark to the planet to pick up more supplies. But if you come, please be discreet."
"Yes, Sir," Aine replied. "Tanith out." She made her way to the shuttle bay at a fast pace, her face carefully controlled into a smile while inside she was very wary.
(Prekia, Medical Supply Production Facility -- Captain Falla, Lieutenant Tanith -- MD2, 1920)
Aine Tanith walked out of the shuttle, her skin prickling with the tension in the air. With a worry she hid from others' sight, she made her way to the Captain after stopping to touch a container. That wasn't it. It is odd, she thought as she finally stood in front of the Captain and saluted.
"Lieutenant," the Captain acknowledged. What exactly does she want? She wasn't too clear before...
"I just wanted to get out of the ship and do something," she said a little brightly. More quietly, she continued, "I wanted to talk to the others about how they feel. We can talk another time." And with that, she saluted and stepped away to help with the loading.
This silly little post was brought to you by: Captain Yarzan Falla, Commanding Officer, USS Denmark Lieutenant Tanith, Primary Counselor, USS Denmark
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Post by Captain Falla on Apr 6, 2009 13:00:53 GMT 12
(OFF: Tanith and Martinez, post your own returns to the ship prior to 2130, please.)
(Prekia, Medical Supply Production Facility -- Captain Falla, Lieutenant Collums -- MD2, 2130)
Matt shoves the last box into place in the back of the shuttle, wiping sweat from his brow and blowing all the air out of his lungs at once. Last one... finally! Stepping back out of the shuttle, he leans against it for a moment, wiping the sweat from his brow and taking a moment to recapture his breath. Where is Yarzin, anyway? His head moves wearily to look around, although he's otherwise rooted to the spot.
Yarzin approaches the Esbjerg with a touch of depression. No one wanted to talk to me. At all. It's obvious something's going on, but I just can't put my finger on it... Ah well, hopefully no longer our problem. As he got closer, he spotted Matt hanging out in the bay. "You done? Good, because I give up. Let's go," Yarzin sighed.
"You didn't find out anything, Yarzin?" Matt remains rooted to the side of the shuttle for a moment longer, his breathing slowly settling back into his normal patterns. "...I might need to spend more time in the gym. Did you ever find the facility administrator?"
"No, yes, and no," Yarzin commented, adressing each of Matt's points in turn. "Let's just go and hope we're being paranoid. Anything more would be a waste of our time, I think."
"Yeah, yeah... who died and made you Doctor, anyway?" He laughs, then finally shoves off from the side of the shuttle, glancing at the name before finally saying, "...and who did you piss off to get shuttles named like this?"
"Our ship is the Denmark. The shuttles are named after cities in Denmark," Yarzin replies. He walks up the ramp into the cockpit. "We got anyone still on the surface, T'Mira?" he asks the Vulcan pilot.
"No, sir," she replies. "Lieutenants Martinez and Tanith made it back onboard a while ago, sir."
"Very well. Then as soon as Doctor gets his you-know-what in here, take us up," Yarzin orders.
"Oh, fine. My you-know-what moves at the pace I want it to move." He walks into the shuttle, grumbling something half under his breath about impatient people.
T'Mira punches the controls and the ship begins to drift gracefully up into space. Eventually, it reaches the Starship Denmark, where it returns to its post in Shuttlebay One.
(USS Denmark, Shuttlebay One – Captain Falla, Lieutenant Collums – MD2, 2155)
"Now, if the Captain is done thinking his Chief Medical Officer is a body building wrestler, I'll head off to get some ointment to put on my back."
"Aren't you forgetting something, Doctor?" Yarzin asks with a hint of amusement, gesturing at the cargo still loaded onto the Esbjerg.
"That's what transporters are for, Yarzin! I've been loading all blasted day!"
Yarzin smiles. "Just keeping you on your toes, Matt. We'll handle it. Go fix yourself."
"Thank you! My back and I have an appointment with a painkiller and a hot pad..." He starts to head out of the shuttle, although he pauses for a moment, then grabs one of the boxes of medical supplies before he heads out, grunting slightly. "Okay, I'm gone."
"Uh... those boxes aren't for us, Matt," Yarzin complains.
"I know. I'm going to test everything about one of these kits. The box. The supplies. The medicinals... everything."
"Sounds like a good idea, then," Yarzin replies. "I, personally, walked all over that damn complex, and I need sleep. T'Mira, you and Hax coordinate the offloading."
With that, Yarzin walks out himself, intending to get BED.
This Away Team Wrap-Up brought to you by: Captain Yarzin Falla, Commanding Officer, USS Denmark Lieutenant Matt Collums, Chief Medical Officer, USS Denmark
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Post by Captain Falla on Apr 9, 2009 2:16:11 GMT 12
(USS Denmark, Captain's Quarters -- Captain Falla -- MD2, 2145)
As Yarzin's about to head to bed, he realizes that he never ordered the Denmark to break orbit and start going. Really no point in waiting here all night, he thought.
He tapped his commbadge. "Falla to Bridge. Set course for Cardassia Prime and engage at Warp Six."
"Aye, sir," came a sleepy, feminine voice at the other end. "Course laid in. We're under way, Captain. Bridge out."
Yarzin headed to bed, and took a quick look at the "otherspace" outside the window. After a second... "Computer, opaque window."
This command brought to you by: Captain Yarzin Falla, Commanding Officer, USS Denmark
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Post by Lieutenant Collums on Apr 9, 2009 7:09:42 GMT 12
(USS Denmark, Sickbay -- Lieutenant Collums, Captain Falla -- MD3, 0800)
It'd been hours and hours of dismantling, testing, repacking, retesting, testing smaller and less likely things, passing the kit through different types of scanners, radiations, energy fields, everything, even cutting a piece out of the box and testing, and it still responded... just like a medkit should. No odd explosive properties, no psychotropic compounds in the drugs, no... nothing. He'd finally ended up taking bits of the supplies and looking at them under his old manual microscope just to see if anything was interesting. Dark circles were under his eyes, a handful of pills at his elbow (painkillers, of course), and a heat pad still strapped firmly around his back. Long blasted night.
Captain Falla walked into Sickbay, wondering if the Doctor had those tests done. Or if he got any sleep. "Doctor?" he called out.
"In here, Yarzin." He glances up from the 'scope, looking out of his office at the now-familiar CO of the Denmark. He raises his hand and gestures for him to come on in.
Yarzin walks in, takes one look at the setup, and has to fight the urge to put his hand in his face. "You didn't sleep at all last night, did you?" he accused.
"Urm... well, that's not really important now, is it?" He tries a bright, innocent grin that probably comes off rather not-bright. And rather not-innocent as well. "Anyway, I've gone through it all. There's nothing wrong. Even the box is garden-variety non-flammable non-explosive plasticized carbon nanotube construction. Nothing here has any military potential at all."
"Very funny," Yarzin replies. "Alright, so... any ideas on what they were so nervous about?" he asked.
"Maybe it was just the director's time of the month? I don't know. There's nothing wrong here, just a large shipment of medical supplies with nothing particularly noteworthy about it. Maybe we were just being excessively paranoid." He sighs, then tosses the chunk of case he'd been working on onto his desk, then stretches out. "Sit down, no need to stand on ceremonies."
Yarzin takes the seat as indicated, snorting at the initial comment. "That wouldn't affect the whole station, Matt. But... there doesn't seem to be any justification for us not to assume everything's genuine and on the level at this point." Yarzin sighs. "Unless you got any ideas..."
"Well, let's think about it for a moment. Is there anything unusual about sending the Denmark on this mission? It seems like mission profile for a ship of this class. What about the facility? Have they had bad dealings with Starfleet before? Problems with deliveries?"
"Not that I'm aware of, no," Yarzin admitted. "This was all supposed to be fairly routine... but we *all* felt something wrong down there."
"We are heading into one of the most war-wracked areas of space right now. There's the potential for a lot to go wrong. Perhaps they felt slighted that it was just us?" He sits up again and cracks his fingers. "It's not like medical supplies are uncommon, though. Was there a secret gun to someone's head?" He pauses for a moment, then chuckles, "Okay, that's just beyond paranoid."
"...yes, that was." Yarzin agreed, a bit weirded out. "Uh... perhaps you'd better get some sleep."
"Yeah, maybe. I just... there's something wrong here. It raises my scientific curiosity and worries me at a fundamental level. It may have been a decade or so since my last major psychiatric counseling training, but even I can spot that something was being hidden." He finally rises, sighing. "The last time I had this feeling, I was acting as Medical Examiner on a shuttle burn-up investigation..."
"And... what happened?" Yarzin asked, curious. Not that it matters, but a story's a story.
"Shuttle burned up on re-entry. The coroner, on examining what remains there were, declared it pilot error due to high blood-alcohol content. But, when was the last time you heard of two Captains and a Lieutenant Commander piling into a shuttle drunk and trying to belly-flop it into the atmosphere? Especially when two of them were from Starfleet Security? I got pulled from the case shortly after I made my report. And then sent out here."
"Ah. I see." Yarzin replied neutrally. "Well, maybe we'll get to the bottom of this one, Doctor."
"Please, call me Matt. I only get snippety about being called Doctor when a patient gives me fits." Matt smiles, then adds, quieter, "And watch your butt." When I get back to my cabin, I'm going to put a phaser in my pocket. Just in case.
Yarzin blinked. "Watch... my butt? What for?" Sometimes I don't think I quite get humans...
Matt blinks, then says, "Watch... it's a euphemism for 'keep an eye out for people who would want to hurt you'."
"What, you think we're not safe on our own ship?" Yarzin asked, a bit surprised. "Now that is paranoia, Doctor."
Matt sighs. "No, that's not what I'm saying at all... never mind. I'm obviously too tired. If you need me, just give me a shout on the comm."
"Agreed," Yarzin replied. He clearly needs sleep. He's not really even making sense anymore.
Matt shrugs, then heads out of the room with nothing more than a, "Good night--morning, Yarzin."
Yarzin stays seated for a minute and thinks to himself, still trying to figure out what Matt was trying to say. Falla fails to provide any insight of his own.
This JP brought to you by: Captain Yarzin Falla, Commanding, USS Denmark Lieutenant Matthew Collums, Chief Medical Officer, USS Denmark
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Post by Lieutenant Tanith on Apr 18, 2009 3:26:52 GMT 12
(Prekia, Medical Supply Production Facility, onboard shuttle -- Lt. Aine Tanith -- MD2, 2000)
All in all, it was good exercise, Aine thought with a smile, remembering her incident with the Medic personnel. She clearly remembered saying, "Well, you don't have to worry about me, Martinez. I don't plan on lifting any heavy objects." At the time, I didn't, she assured herself. And besides, I only helped lift the medical supplies.
Her thoughts turned to the people with whom she'd interacted with. They were suspicious, yes. But most people weren't overly worried. Oh, there were maybe two others besides the Captain. She sighed as she adjusted her seat on the shuttle. Tanith had spoken to everyone that was loading the supplies, so her part was done. She also needed a break for her back.
An hour and a half later, she heard the captain and Lt. Collums? come aboard with the last box. She turned off her Klingon PADD and put it into it's hip holster, intending one day soon to look up the various personnel so that she can at least put name to face. She heard their conversation and sighed. It was a shame no one talked to the Captain, made sure that they were the right people.
(USS Denmark, Counselor's Quarters -- Aine Tanith, Counselor -- MD2, 2145)
It was a relief when the shuttle got back to the ship and she was able to retreat to her room. When she got there, she had the computer download all the personnel into her counselor's padd.
Through the hours it took to download, Aine pulled out a book and promptly fell asleep.
(USS Denmark, Counselor's Quarters -- Aine Tanith, Counselor -- MD3, 0800--1800)
With no other pressing business, Aine Tanith spent the day going over the bios of everyone in the ship. There were some that were very easy for her to remember--like the people she'd spent time with the day before.
This post brought to you by: Lieutenant Aine Tanith, Primary Counselor, USS Denmark
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Post by Lieutenant Frost on Apr 29, 2009 17:01:53 GMT 12
(USS Denmark, Ready Room -- Captain Falla, Lieutenant Frost -- MD3, 1100)
Captain Falla took a look at the PADDs on his desk and sighed. It looked to be a long day.
Amber quickly pressed the doorbell, knowing that her hair was straight((as always)), and her uniform was creased in all the correct places((again, as always)). She quietly awaited the Captain's response, while pondering a new chess strategy, and a new sensor-configuration that seemed potentially promising.
Yarzin heard the chime and sighed again, "Come," he commanded. Exactly what I needed. Great.
Amber marched in, still pondering the sensor configuration, which had taken precedence over KA7 to B 10. "Greetings, Captain Falla. I am Lieutenant Frost, assigned apparently, as your' Chief Science Officer." She said crisply, and kept the chess game going in her head. The sensor configuration was, she decided, not superior to present design, and discarded it quickly.
"I see," Captain Falla noted. "So you arrived... when exactly?" he asked. I don't recall any shuttles coming in today.
Having been dispatched rather quickly, as the Intrepid was a busy ship, she had had little time to say good-bye, not that this was a commonly Vulcan thing to do. "4 hours, 53 minutes, and 23.2 seconds ago. The USS Intrepid was in a hurry, and only had time for a quick transport, not that a shuttlecraft is especially logical or eficient for personnel transport, were their' schedule to accomodate it." Amber said, a bit of annoyance lingering in her mind, but not in her voice, at the lack of proper time to prepare for transport. She had been told she was being transferred precisely 23.3 minutes prior to transporter-range.
"Well then, Ms. Frost, you have had 4 hours, 53 minutes, and 23 seconds to report in and have not done so until now," Yarzin pointed out with a spot of annoyance on hand. "And why was the transport not reported in the first place? I'll have to have a word with someone about that later..." Yarzin adds on, musing. This whole situation was just getting on his nerves.
"I was not aware I was being transferred until 23.3 minutes to transporter range. It interrupted my sleeping schedule, which in order to keep efficiency at a maximum, I adhere to very strictly. I went from one bed directly to another. I apologize if this in anyways offended you, Captain Falla." Amber said quickly, pondering precisely why the Captain of the Intrepid had forgotten to tell her she was being transferred until such ]a late time. Such forgetfulness was not common among Vulcans, but perhaps he did it to avoid her objecting to hit. Both choices seemed illogical, and yet she could come up with no other answer.
"Offended? No. Irritated? Yes," Yarzin explained. "But there's nothing to be done about in now. Are you ready to assume your duties or do you need more time to adjust?"
"Adjustment time is both irrelevant, and illogical. I am prepared to take my post whenever you need me to do so." Amber replied quickly.
"You are no longer on the Intrepid, Lieutenant," Yarzin rebuked Amber. "There is more to life than logic. Do you wish to assume your post now or not? I'm not pressuring you; indeed, we have plenty of time before we reach Cardassia Prime."
"There may be more to life than logic, Captain Falla, but it is my way of life. If we have sufficient time between now, and our' destination, I will be most grateful, as it will permit me to exam the ship's over-all efficiency, and the individual oddities of the ship, and it's software and hardware. As to taking my post, it is my duty, and therefore, I will gladly assume it when scheduled to do so." Amber said, slightly defensively.
Yarzin sighs wearily. Yep, this one's as loony as the rest of 'em. Only she wraps it up in "logic." "Very well then. Your first shift begins at 1400, in about three hours," Yarzin informed her. "And if you need anything, my door is always open."
"Actually, Captain, the door opens using an advanced motion-sensing device. It is not always open. Quite illogical of you to claim otherwise. Thank you for the scheduling information, however." Amber said, a little dryly.
"There you go with that 'logic' thing again. Please kindly throw it out. You know perfectly well what I meant, and it is highly... dare I say it... 'illogical' to pretend otherwise," Yarzin commented.
"How does one throw away one's lifestyle, Captain?" Amber said, while carefully repressing several amused responses. She was being very careful to avoid admitting that this man was oddly amusing in his own way.
"It is not a lifestyle, it is an ideology that is self-contradictory," Yarzin replied. "In any case, the Vulcan sense of 'logic' is itself a misnomer, is it not? I believe the word more accurately translates as 'reality-truth', which would make a bit more sense. Even so, that does not mean it is meant to exist at the expense of oneself."
"Quite logically argued, Captain." Amber said, in what was both an insult to the Captain's argument, and a compliment at the same time.
Yarzin nods and smiles, but simply says, "Unless there's anything else, dismissed."
"Thank you Captain. I believe, according to Starfleet Regulation 2108-9c, that I am now required to report in for a physical, prior to starting duty. I believe I will attend to that, provided I can find the Chief Medical Officer... Who would that be?" Amber asked, as an after-thought.
"Matt Collums would be the CMO, but he's busy. It might be best to wait on that until tonight," Yarzin informed her. "You don't want to have a physical with someone under stress."
"Although it could be fascinating to see the results, I you believe his efficiency is currently impaired, I will take an hour to unpack then. Thank you Captain." Amber said, coming to attention, in preparation of leaving the office.
"It's not a matter of efficiency, but rather a matter of attitude," Yarzin replied, intending to set the record straight. "This is not the Intrepid, Lieutenant. Emotions matter."
"Emotions effect one's efficiency, Captain. If he is in an ill mood, then his efficiency is likely impaired. Your statement in no way counters, or argues with mine. Clarification was not necessary. And that is the second time you have illogically reminded me we are no longer aboard the Intrepid, Captain." Amber retorted.
"You have not shown me anything that implies you are remembering my words," Yarzin retored. "You are still attempting to think of sentiments in the abstract."
"I do not think of sentiments beyond their' definition in the dictionary, Captain. It is a control-method, to keep my own emotions in check. In addition, thinking in abstract is a side-effect of working in the sciences division among Vulcans, sir." Amber said, slightly amused with the mind-games they were playing with one another.
"Why bother keeping your emotions in 'check'? They'll just bottle and sprout eventually... Never mind. That's a pointless tack, since I doubt you'd even consider it," Yarzin rambled slightly. "Dismissed."
"Thank you Captain." Amber said softly, as she turned and left the ready-room. That was much more entertaining than I thought it would be. Perhaps this will be a better experience than I originally thought it would be. Amber thought to herself as she left.
Yarzin watched her go and rubbed his forehead. Yep, that one is as crazy as the rest. I have a lot of work to do.
This JP brought to you by:
Captain Yarzin Falla, Commanding Officer, USS Denmark, Lieutenant Amber Frost, Chief Science Officer, USS Denmark
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