Montague

Engineering Proposal Lt j.g. Lazarus Montague NX-05 Challenger ===================== Recognising that the previous attempts to institue a comprehensive system of shielding over the NX-05 have resulted in total failure of the already strained power system resulting from a severely damaged system of power cells and the nearly shattered SIF system, coupled with the activation of the Emergency Hull Plating subsystems. This new proposal will set out to solve the problems caused by the initiation of the Shield Projection System (afterwards known as a “Shield”) The primary failure resulted from the depletion of existing power sources and the failure of the Impulse Fusion Generation Nodes. The solution proposed will require the cannibalization of a system of power conduits capable of drawing 1.3x10^7 milliliters of type-17 plasma from the busasard synthesized stores. As outlined in a previous techn ical report, this plasma can be channeled without the need for extra magnetic conduits. This new specification for conduits can only be fulfilled in one section of the ship. A section that currently contains full duplex conduits, and a Device. The initialization of the Shield will disable the device temporarily, pending the reset of certain hardware components within the Device. The Device will act as a conduit for the plasma and can be converted to this purpose instantly as the safety systems within the mechanism will reconfigure the Device to output the plasma and contain it within the ellipsoid that normally governs the field emitted by it. The new Shield will allow the Challenger to withstand 1.546 x 10^16 Watts of disruptor or phase cannon fire, allowing for Challenger to sustain numerous hits before starting to lose system function although the regeneration of the field will require some time. This proposal requests immediate permission to begin configuration and simulation of the system in action. Simulation will be conducted extensively prior to the first activation. See the Equations for the shield geometry calculations Here.

Imperceptible, the fatigue descended upon him, a wraith, its grey fog rolling into his mind as the onerous duty on the bridge cotinued, interminable it seemed, as he watched Lt. Murray examine every square centimeter of the recently refitted space. It always began like this, as his defenses dropped, he became increasingly aware of the forces acting upon his weakness, he could not prevail in this battle forever, the memories would rise unbidden from the recesses of his mind. Disjointed, from many viewpoints, straining his consciousness and his emotional control, already precarious. He closed his eyes for an instant, The dreaded sound echoed deafeningly through the tiny space, red strobe lighting danced across his corner. The Communications officer repeated the age old mantra, “Red alert! All hands battle stations!” His parents were putting themselves into their form-fitting garments, moving quickly, ordering him to move, to get to the secure area nearest their quarters. The officers ran from the room, his father, the chief engineer, raced to Deck 7 while his mother followed at an equally impressive speed. The child knew what he was doing, he had done it before and logic dictated that it would happen again. The child walked with great urgency to the forward section, where a highly shielded area awaited him. Checking the primary systems, he glanced over at his wife, querying her, she responded with a few words, “Shield generator upgrades are engaged, and seem stable.” He consulted with his fellow engineers and then opened a commlink to the bridge, as to remain abreast of the changes that battle or other scenarios might bring. On the view screen rested a man, an opulently bedecked Romulan, clearly of high rank. ‘What are you doing in our space, Commander?’ Spat Captain Green. “We are not aware of your claim to this sector, Federation Starship Grotto,” Sneered the impudent Romulan, “we intended to scan this region and those immediately surrounding it for… gaseous phenomena… but if you need to make things difficult, I assure you that we are more than a match for you.” “You and I know that this sector is well charted by both our peoples, and why would the Empire decide to dispatch a Mogai-class warbird to simply investigate gaseous phenomena? Perhaps your science programs need a bit more funding if you cannot even turn a telescope in this direction.” “Perhaps you are correct, but there is no substitute to having an actual starship investigating important areas such as this.” “No substitute for having a spy in the Federation’s borders perhaps. Pursuant to Article 15 Section 7 of Interstellar law, I demand that you leave this area immediately or it will be construed as an act of war by the Federation!” “The very same people who destroyed Romulan outposts at the Borders of the Neutral Zone?! How dare you quote ‘Interstellar Law’ when you destroy defenseless research outposts like those? Close the channel!” The communications dropped, and the tactical officer reported with urgency that weapons were charging. Turning back towards his engineering team, he said, “Prepare for damage control, scramble teams four and one to areas of the ship as the damage occurs. Dismissed.” The Ship rocked, pounded relentlessly by disruptor shot, the helmsman was clearly executing the most effective evasive maneuvers at his disposal, the stars streaked across the transparent aluminum ports lining the walls as high power turns were made again and again. Through the deck plates above him, he could feel the reverberations of the main phaser banks discharging relentlessly. The flashing red lights cast everything into halting relief, adding to the urgency of the situation, the deck heaved under him, an alarm sounded. “Decompression alert, Hull Breach deck 6 section 12. Alert. Hull breach in progress.” Sonrek looked up, “Engage emergency force fields, shunt all the power required, now, that is a vital section.” The section containing my son, he thought to himself. “Fields are inoperable, primary couplings have fused, all auxiliaries are reseting!” The ensign didn’t add the fact that the reset would take three minutes and that by then the entire section would be exposed to harsh vacuum. Looking at his wife he said, “I must go, damage control teams are occupied.” She understood, and moved to take his station, barking orders to the group scurrying about engineering. My wife, he thought as he climbed up the Jefferies Tubes to the force field control for deck 6. The air did not rush out all at once, it lingered, languidly being pulled out of the footlong gash in the hull that formed upon impact with a Romulan torpedo. The chile awoke first, to the sound of the atmosphere in the section being pulled out into the harsh cold vacuum of space. Glancing around, he found the door controls smashed, and he knew he was neither tall nor strong enough to actuate the manual release. He attempted to rouse the only person in the room who could help them, but he knew in his heart that it was futile. Flames gushed from an exposed conduit as he tapped the release sequence for the door, and he watched as the air began to spiral out of the corridor uncontrollably. His son was there along with a pregnant woman, he was slumped over her, clearly collapsed in exhaustion, trying to rouse a woman who was now most certainly dead. He needed to work quickly, opening a panel on the wall, he engaged the field generator sequence and as the wall materialized, separating space and ship once more, he ran to his son, to find him breathing again. He confirmed his fears after a tricorder scan revealed the woman’s brain unresponsive. Cradling his son in his arms, he ran for the turbolift back to engineering. Forms glided rapidly in front of him, a man’s voice yelled, “Shields at 11 percent!” He opened his eyes fully to take stock of the scene, the warp core was spewing jets of coolant, consoles were shattered, people strewn on the floor as if thrown there, as discarded rags left to bleach in the sun. Even as he looked, he saw his father, buried in the primary EPS junction repairing damaged nodes, and rerouting power. A few seconds later he yelled “Bridge, you’ve got phaser power!” Even as he did so the panel behind him exploded in a shower of sparks and flames, as the shockwave of an enemy ship’s warp core detonation reached them. Blinded momentarily, he felt a hand on his Katra points… “My mind to your mind...” His eyes open, the pupils dialated, standing, he turned to the Lieutenant still surveying the same plaque… A thought rebounded through his mind, the need for tea. A single thought and his father’s soul.

Assistant Science Officer's log. Computer, begin recording. The preliminary assembly of science lab three has been uneventful, and basic functions are up to starfleet specifications. Astometrics is online and advanced subspace analysis labs are a prospect that could be integrated into the current lab, without displacing anyof the current equipment or mission software. This upgrade will of course require approval from the chief science officer which I hope to procure soon, to expedite these matters and have a full spectrum of laboratory facilities for use as the mission changes. Computer end recording.

Current Assignment: USS Reaent Position: Assistant Science officer Rank: Ensign Commisioned: Stardate 0512.29 Assignment Datasheet: 0512.29- Commisioned as assistant science officer. Previous assignments: No previous assignments on record. Academy Qualifications: Advanced Quantum Mechanics Subspace topography Temporal Mechanics Shuttle Piloting (B Class) Advanced Systems Programming Notes: A prodigy even by vulcan standards, a touch antisocial, prone to enter debates with other cadets and professors. Personal Information: Date of Birth: June 27 Current Age: 21 Terran Years Eyes: Black Hair: Black Height: 2.12 Meters Telepathic Status: Unknown Species: Vulcan Biography: Born off of Vulcan on an Oberth Class Starship, the USS Grotto, his parents were killed on Arcturus 5 in an acident on a terraforming station, where two canisters of plasma coolant ruptured, he was four years old at the time. He spent six months on the Grotto before being adopted by a family on Earth as per his parents instructions. He led a quiet life of meditation and study until at 17 terran years old, he decided to enroll in starfleet academy. Concerns were raised by several faculty members considering the relative youth of the vulcan and his lack of contact with his native peoples. These doubts aside, he was accepted after intensive testing. Immediately he enrolled into advanced courses and excelled beyond expectation for a vulcan estranged from his kind during his formative years. Needless to say, the concerns about his preparedness were shelved, and without any further problems, he graduated in the top 1% of his class and almost immediately took a post aboard the USS Reaent for placement as a junior science oficer. Psych Profile: Has the drive to become a capable officer, but doesnt seem to be able to form personal relationships, causing him to be a bit abrasivve to the other cadets, and possibly a future crew. Antisocial tendancies nonwithstanding, he tends to work well with others and is capable of handling new factors very quickly, and with a minimum of stress. Social Data: Parents Names: T'Layna Mehbahri, Lieutenent(Deceased), Sonrek Teherel, Commander(Deceased) Adoptive Parents: Agustus Montague Khamala Ghiri Affiliations: Unbonded, none to date.

I may or may not have a hernia.... help.

What a coincidence, I am right next to Fred :lol: :lol:

He walked into sickbay, his face blank as he stepped lightly toward Jas. "Hi how can I help you" Grinning slightly, he said "I'm having a little trouble sleeping." She said. "Would you like an adozine solution?" "I dont think that medication is the answer to my condition, doctor." "That's the right medication, but you can stay awake, if you like." She said, and began to file a few things. "Perhaps we could both stay awake," he indicates the chronometer on the wall, "it is far past your shift as it is." She smiles lightly. "I have to finish these. You can take a seat if you like, if you want to stay awake." "I was thinking more along the lines of dinner," he said with an eyebrow raised slightly. "Dinner? You can go eat and stay awake, if that is what you want." She said, still filing paper work into her computer terminal. "Perhaps you'd like to join me, filing can be lonely work," he offered. "I know, so you are going to help me file?" She said absentmindedly. Stepping behind her, he puts a hand on her shoulder, "of course, now, should I start here?" She took a step back. "Go ahead." "Ah, it seems you are almost done, just one patient, T'Parek." He noted with pleasure. She sat down and yawned. "Yep. I called her down a few hours ago." He inputs the results of her visit quickly and looks up, " looks like you are free for the rest of the night." "Great." "Are you up for dinner, I had the Chef decant some of the '12 Tokay I had brought onboard last shoreleave." "It's okay." She shook her head slightly. "Tired?" He raised an eyebrow slightly. The doctor stood up and moved to the door. "Mhmm." Taking out a PADD, "perhaps you'd like a bedtime story," indicates the information," it is a monograph on new neural pathway regeneration methods I picked up on Earth." He smiles. She sighed, remember the words and their meaning. "It's out dated." Tossing the PADD on the table, he says, "I suppose that is what happens when you deal with shady researchers." He grins, "Anyways, what makes you so sure?" The topic of neural science somehow interests her, she taps on her computer terminal to bring up an article. "Dr. Tratos wrote the corrections to it, but he said it was too primitive still so he said it was a bad book." "That Tratos is an agitator," he noted with amusment, "he says that about every medical paper, except for his of course." "Of course, you never met the man." She said. "I have read his dissertations, they have some valid points, but he contributes very little as he does not tie everything together in his own papers." "Maybe you read the wrong papers." "Maybe, perhaps you should come over my quarters with the right papers sometime." "Look for it yourself." Raises an eyebrow and says, "I like my idea better." She looked annoyed. "What do you want?" "I want to have dinner with you." "Why?" "After what happened on the Achilles, I realized that... I'm heading for a cliche arent I?" She sighed. "I'm going to my quarters. I want to sleep." He stood there, silently dissapointed. She yawned again and exited sickbay and headed towards her quarters. Looking after her, as she exited sickbay, he whispered to himself three words and stood there for five minutes until he had regained his composure enough to walk to his quarters.

After every body left sickbay she opened the box again. The little tinfoiled bird was quite delicately made. She wondered who would dare to put this on her desk. Something else in the box caught her eye, she picked up a card. A breakfast invitation? Who does this any more? It was for tuesday at 8. She looked at the clock, which was in half an hour. "I think I deserve something to eat after all this ..." The rest of injured had been taken cared of, most are discharged from sickbay, a particular security officer needed rest towards his recovery. He woke up late, rushing, he brushed his teeth and brushed the tangled mess of hair that covered his head, it was 7:36 and he was almost late for an appointment with a certain doctor. Lazarus felt apprehension, for one thing, he hadnt been there to ask her, he didnt even know that she would be there... He sighed as he accepted the fact that she might not have recieved the invitation at all. Pulling on his unform, he started towards the door to his quarters. The doctor finished her reports and washed her hands. Letting her carefully tied hair down, tough hours passed, more to come. She remembered what the captain had said about the ship's journey, one tough journey ahead. Exiting sickbay, she places her worries aside, just for today. Smoothing his unform, he enters the mess hall, it is mostly empty and only a solitary MACO sits at a table far from the door, eating a bowl of shredded wheat. Lazarus sits down at a table near the middle of the room, wondering what to ask for. After a few minutes, he decides that it would be better if the doctor had a say as to their breakfast. Although he could use some eggs and toast.... Jasmine walked into the messhall, fatigued and sleepy, moved towards the table in the middle and poked the engineer who asked her to breakfast. "How is your hand?" He smiled, suddenly relieved. "Oh, it's fine, you really did quite a job on it." He manipulated a fork on the table to illustrate his point. "What would you like to have for breakfast? I hear they have freshly squeezed orange juice today." "Anything will be fine, thank you." She sat down and yawned. He pointed to the menu, indicating the eggs and toast. "Something simple?" "Okay, and orange juice." Something simple, but good nevertheless. He smiled again and went to ask for the meal, wondering whether she would like to have some jam for her toast. She looked around, wondering why only a lone MACO sat in the corner ... he looked asleep too. Holding the trays with their plates , he walked towards the table carefully, making sure that he did not agitate the orange juice too much. He set one of the trays down in front of the doctor and the other in front of his seat. She looked at him, wondering the reason why he wanted to have breakfast with her. "Thank you." He sat down, bringing his chair closer to the table. Noticing the doctor's gaze, he looked into her eyes, " Did you like my crane?" She avoided looking at his eyes, and looked at the orange juice instead. "I like it, all glittery and shiny." " You know, I recieved it was a gift from one of my friends at the Tokyo Academy When I recieved it, it made me happier for some strange reason, and the last time I saw you, I thought that you could use some cheering up." "That's nice. Um ... Thank you, I guess." She still looked at the orange juice in front of her. He took a sip of his orange juice, the tangy flavor of the Florida oranges, a rare commodity after the Xindi attacks immediatly brightened his mood. "You know this is the first time that I have ever had orange juice. I dont know how I lived without it." She smiled lightly at the humor and sipped the juice in the glass. Lazarus gazed at the doctor as she smiled and marveled at the way that she could continue to give the impression of a smile even while drinking her juice. She felt the gaze on her she sit up and looked at the engineer. She felt uncomfortable that a mere stranger was able to make her feel uncomfortable with his gaze. "What is it?" "Oh, its nothing, I was just thinking about the problems in engineering, but I was slightly distracted" He took a bite of toast. "Oh." She replied and sat back into her chair so she could eat the toast without much movement, an extremely lazy posture. "Oh." She replied and sat back into her chair so she could eat the toast without much movement, an extremely lazy posture. Taking his clean napkin, he began folding it in elaborate geometric shapes as he put some jam on his toast. She nibbled her toast slowly, as though to keep nibbling to stop herself from falling asleep. She sipped her orange juice again. He speared some of his eggs with his fork and he thought about what to say next. Lazarus was suddenly aware of himself, and his surroundings, the entire place was tired, the ship itself seemed to groan as it moved through space. He sighed, and looked at his juice. He sipped at it cautiously. She looked up at Montague. "You're not usually this quiet. Anything wrong?" Biting his lip, he said, "It was my fault, wasnt it?" " I bollixed up the whole works didn't I? I cannot stop thinking about it." He sighed, and poked another piece of egg into his mouth. "Pardon?" She wondered what he meant, finishing her eggs and toast. "In engineering, instead of focusing on retoring secondary power, I activated a defense field... It was the wrong decision and alot of people got hurt because of it." Suddenly it became clear to her. "Oh... that explains the lighting issue." Shaking his head, he said, "that is not the reason why I asked you to breakfast." He drained the rest of his juice, he gazed at Jas, still marveling at her simple grace, the way that she could defuse a tense situation... He knew what he wanted, but didnt know how she felt about it. "Oh?" She wiped away the toast crumbs that somehow found themselves on to her face. "Then..." " I lo--" Thoughts flashed through his mind, he ran through all of the possible situations and their probablilities. Without skipping a beat, he said, "-would like to get to know you better. I feel that you and I could be good friends." He could not risk it, it was too soon... She felt relieved somewhat, the man in front of her wanted to be her friend, but why would he go through all the trouble of this just to do that? She noted that the engineer hid something, just like she hid her own feelings. She smiled, to defend what she hid deep down. "Okay, but you're still getting the same physicals as every body else." He smiled, this time it was a genuine smile. "I suppose I'd better get a move on, I"m going to have to do some work in engineering, do you want me to clear your tray?" She stood up, wiping crumbs off her uniform. "That's okay you better get to your job, I don't want to slow you down." He stacked their trays and moved to the waste recepticle.

Ach... He cradled his hand, sore and cut up, he hadnt stopped tapping on those damned controls since the situation had stabalized, he was overdue for a break as he couldnt do anymore work with this hand in the condition it was. I'm going to have to go to get this bandaged up, dont I... He looked at his hand, lacerated when he was rigging the impulse generators to provide auxiliary power... he only got the job half done though... Connor did the rest. Speaking of Connor... Looking over his shoulder he shouted at the MACO he saw , 'Fyrna, I'm going to have to go to sickbay with this', he held up his dirtied, bloody hand, 'think you can hold down the fort here?' She muttered something about minor injuries and eventually nodded. Lazarus Montague carefully walked over to Sickbay, cradling his painful hand in the other and wishing that he had not failed in his pursuits... Jasmine was in sickbay, worried that it may be difficult to heal Mr. Vank's fractured neck. She stared at her desk. Lazarus walked into sickbay, he scanned the room, searching for the... 'Doctor.' He saw her looking introspective and clearly deep in thought. She looked at who just entered the door, another patient? No ... Just a warly engineer. "Yes?" He suddenly felt that his injury was insignificant as he looked into her eyes, filled with deep emotion, drawing him in like dark pools... tearing himself away, he forced himself to look nonchalant. 'I injured my hand' Lazarus held his dirty and bloody hand to the light for her to see. She looked at his hand. "Okay ... take a seat." He sat down and placed his hand on his lap, gazing once more at the beautiful doctor. She sighed and brought over several items and looked at his hand, not that injured ... Nevertheless ... She wiped over the area with a disinfectant material then added the cellular regeneration promoter - something she came up with. He gasped as the disinfectant hit his wounds. Glancing coyly at the doctor he said, "You could have told me it would hurt." She ignored him and scanned over the broken skin area, the skin healed faster, the wound closed. She looked at him, wondering how insulting she has to be. "You ... You ... I'm sorry ..." He blinked, a lump rose in his throat as their eyes met. "Um.. it's nothing..." She looked at the engineer with mixed feelings, pity, slight anger, loss. "You big baby ..." He did not react at once, still probing the depths of feeling that she radiated in waves. Lazarus had no words, so instead he grinned at her, trying to maintain a facade over his true feelings. The doctor removed the chemicals and material bathing the Engineer's hand, she placed them in the waste bin, and sighed. "You're free to leave." Standing up, he said, "Thanks for the help." He walked towards the door, wondering what to do next. He turned back, "I--- wish you a good day" Silently, he cursed himself for not being more open and promised that he would do something nice for her once he had the time. She turned her attention back to the broken man on the bio bed that is Mr. Vank ... She had to put him back together ... "'Have a nice day?'" she mocked. Lazarus turned to liquid inside, he walked out of sickbay and managed to end up in his room. He collapsed on his bed and didnt move.

causeway ( :( no idea why :( :

LOL! I was so off ;)

Yay! this topic bested A or B ;) Columbia.

lol , an orion is the relative of a vulcan? That makes absoluttley no sense ;)

Perhaps the slugs have virtual mines?

frenzy