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

A spear of white hot energy shot from the computer’s processing core at the instant that engineering shut it down. Capacitors discharged with mechanical precision each letting loose an arc of dangerous voltage, combined, forming a single charged stream of electrons seeking release. In the low pressure of the core room, the beam struck flesh, tore through the skin, muscles and found its way to the veins and nerves where it dissipated into the deck. More spent than the capacitors that triggered this event, Ens Lazarus Montague collapsed, laser welder in hand to the cold deck below. Darkness surrounded him, feeling nothing, seeing nothing, isolated, a wayward soul, drifting among the sands of time. Seconds turned to minutes as time seemed to lengthen and turn to whorls and eddies of eternities captured in a single moment of amber clarity. Here there was nothing, only time and thought. Eyes closed, darkness his medium, hearing but faint voices in the distance, sounding like sirens, pillars of light and beauty, captured without the eyes of the body, but those of the soul, each tone, glittered, multifaceted, hung like a jewel and was whisked away, becoming one with the darkness once more. Eyes closed, warmth, seeping through the skin, trickling in eddies and rivers, moving to and fro across his body, grounding him to reality in a base and primal way. Pressure, easing its way through, through the mists of obscurity settling along his back, edged its way through his limbs. Every texture, from the sheets to his uniform, was a universe in itself. Eyes opening, shafts of wondrous light shining through the slivers left between his eyelids. Each shaft different, containing everything in and of them selves yet being contained by others akin to it. Infinite complexity, seeing all but Seeing nothing, his eyes opened and beheld a beauty unparalleled in all his life. Language nothing more than a fevered dream, a single word escaped his lips, drowned by the flurry of activity surrounding him. Eyes closing, senses dimming, once more, returning to the state of limbo from whence he came, a second, an eternity its whorls and eddies a fingerprint in his mind. One second, a lifetime, containing everything, yet nothing. A moment, crystallized, forever etched into the fabric of time. Darkness his medium, his mind, concocting new patterns, processing the input slowly, methodically, storing, examining, computing, contemplating this nameless unit of time. Entropy is the bane of existence. Rustling surrounded them, the trees swayed like metronome, each moving at its own regular tempo. The shuttle had left, depositing them at the border, leaving no instructions, no objectives. The wind stopped suddenly, making thw world eerily quiet, the trees became rigid once more, not a single animal could be heard even in the silence that pervaded every part of their existence. A twig snapped. The sound of whispered conversations filtered through the forest under story. A glint of metal in each one’s hand. Running. Moving. Leaves and twigs crushed as the two of them fled, the men, unusually silent, began their pursuit, stalking their prey, moving stealthily through the trees. Running. Moving. A brief respite among the two, two flashes, and darkness. Once more, ensconced by a shroud of darkness, seeing nothing feeling everything through a velvet curtain. Light. Flooding from every side, the smell of rotting wood and lavender, a thin blanket on the ground under him, clothed no longer in his uniform, a thin fabric, flowing over his frame. Turning his head, he sees his counterpart, dressed similarly just stirring, recovering from what happened in the forest. Yelling, piercing his ears, rousing his partner, rousing a village. Sounds of movement emanating from each hut, as people prepared for the day ahead and the issues at hand. A white hot stone in the sky lighting the world, casting everything into sharp contrast, it hung high in the sky, beating harshly upon the two of them. They stood up, lucid, absorbing the world through their eyes. Out of place, they struggled to understand, there was no metal, not brick, or cement to be seen. Branches and leaves the material dominant. Their uniforms, on a rock beside them, drying, blood spatter evident on the larger of the two. The hunters emerged, their small hut closest to them, a cross marked their roof, blue rags waving in the breeze. Their guns in hand, they approached the pair. In an obscure language, they yelled. Gesticulating wildly, they led the pair, confused, to a pot simmering on a smoldering fire. Soup or laundry. They were brought a bowl and through some gestures, they dipped it into the pot. Laundry or soup? They drank. Running. The hunters on their trail, they hid in a hut. Its graceful vault concealed everything inside, there was no glass, no windows. Candles, scores of them lined the center of the hut. Three guns on the walls. Primitive, projectile weapons, feathery darts stacked neatly in a box.. A bang, echoing throughout the hut. The pair grasped the guns, both facing the door, another bang. Facing each other, their eyes staring into the other’s their faces drifted closer. Gazing into the Doctor’s eyes, Lazarus leaned forward and… Woke up.

peyote

Main computer offline

Computer. Begin recording log entry. I am so fired… Bah! Why did I listen to Connor?! Now Moore is seething and everyone thinks us traitors. I suppose I should give an explanation of my actions for review by my superior officers… I had to shut down command level access from the bridge, it was only logical that the when the Bolians and Connor touched off that alarm, some kind of virus was implanted. It was clear when you looked at a power grid schematic that something was going on, it was almost as if the main computer was altering command pathways and unbalancing equations throughout the ship, causing that power abnormality that was detected earlier. Daryus’ actions were for lack of a better word… strange, and for this reason I surmise that he is working with the Bolians, he tried to put me off of the problem of the power abnormalities and tried to cover their trail. After careful analysis, I detected anomalous code coming from Aaron’s console, apart from his normal requests of the main computer; I detected a transfer of an additional five Gigaquads per second from his console. There were only two things that he could be using his console for to use that kind of bandwidth: a Transporter pattern buffer relay, or alteration of the main computer’s primary control sequences which are enormously complex to prevent that kind of tampering. With the assistance of Connor’s logs, I made my decision; I shut down the bridge command access while preserving helm, sensor and weapons control. It is clear that I should not have allowed them to maintain weapons control but hindsight is twenty-twenty, and I had no idea that it could have taken that path to achieve its goals, something that happens when you leave a subspace field and propulsion engineer in charge and put the ship’s computer expert in the brig. What really ticks me off though is not that I’m probably going to be taken to the brig or that I will be stripped of my rank, or that judging by the tone of his voice, Moore will push me out of an airlock himself, the thing that bothers me the most is that I didn’t get to do one bit of terraforming! End Recording.

Computer, access personal log. Begin recording. I love terraforming! The mere mention of it fills me with joy, and happieness being rattioned as it is, joy is a valuble commodity. The creativity involved in the act of terraforming, the power, the sheer exhilaration of creating something, all of these factors come together in this unique endevour. Having a planet to sculpt and shape into a living, breathing planet... its amazing! it seems that the weather is cooperating, but not all is well... we had a problem recently on board... Ensign Connor, has violated a place that is not even on the map and something is wrong, I can feel it. It cuts into my mind like a knife knowing that I have knowledge that might be forbidden. I wonder why evrything has to have a problem with it from the begining, I never get to enjoy the mission, I mean that although it is exhilarating, I feel that it interferes with the exploration... you know, when its not a spatial anomaly. Oh, I cannot focus on the negative, I am going to observe and possibly even direct or maybe even assist with some terraforming... I cant wait! End Log.

Engineering Wizardry available on Request. Can I have that ? Please and thank you ^_^

Dude, where's my bird of prey?

Computer, access personal log. Begin recording. Damn that Connor, the sight of him fills me with a rage...a rage that I cannot describe... it seems to have no basis in his actions, it just happened... It would be my dream to desa--- no, it would not... as much as I would like it to be so subconciously, I know that is not what I truly want... By now, my report has reached Daryus... in it I have included a detailed report on how the technology works, which I will be including in my log... it took four years, only four years to uncover what was hidden... I will declare officially in this log what is the truth... I have given false information to starfleet. I have kept secret... no, deliberately with held critical research... I ... I... I was a critical part in the development , the primary scientist in charge of theoretical modeling and plasma mechanics (I influenced its design during every stage from its conception, to proto type construction), of... plasma shielding. I will have to consider resigning my commision as a starfleet officer. My resignation will be turned in seven days from now. Technical specifications have already been forwarded to my commanding officers... If I am not clapped in irons... I will take the first transport to Omicron Draconis... I suppose that I should set the record straight on the natue of the project, and what became of the members... We were a small group of researchers, four, including myself that were gathered by a Dr. Roger Menkot who originally wished to copy the vulcan principles of shielding, but soon changed the focus of the plan to be instead a development of a human shielding system, based upon original ideas, human ideas. We went into space, Roger's paranoia did not allow him to be on the ground for very long for fear of sabotage. the first prototypes, Roger's design, were utter failures,unable to maintain power for more than four minutes at a stretch. after five such machines, and a month in space, I spoke up, I was frustrated with Roger and his ideas, and decided to come up with something myself, it was then that I proposed plasma shielding. I already had most of the formulas down, and they showed great promise and few limitations. I had only to find a suitable plasma intermix and devise a method for the containment of the shield...for two months we grappled with these twin problems, when suddenly one of our researchers, Alexander Tholtskev came up with a novel feul mixture that improved upon my original projections buy a marginof 365 % in power dissapation and thermal conductivity. when he was explaining the particulars of his plasma, I was struck with an Idea, I realized that something as simple as magnetic containment could be a viable and energy friendly way to give the fields definition and integrity. One month later, I had tested a smaller model of my magnetic containment field generators. it was perfect... a few days later, when we were convinced that the design would hold up, Micheal Tanquero, the project's construction specialist, began gathering the necesary materials, we even stoped at a few planets to find some impossible to synthesis backup plasma coils. At five months in, our prototype was complete and we were ready for preliminary testing. it showed remarkable resiliency in initial trials but the trouble began when conducting weapons trials. I was in the single Chocrane warp sled alone. It was mounted with a variety of small energy and projectile emmitters, to simulate weapons fire. It had a small screen and some supplies inside, the screen showed the interior of the engineering section in which the crew was gathered for the test, everyone was at a station checking readings and the computer was occupied recording everything. it was s - 3 minutes when everything went wrong. It was a valve, a single poorly maintained valve. As the power was shifted from engines to the sensors, a small overload burst the valves, flooding the engineering section with searing hot plasma. Alex and Mike died instantly, Roger lasted a few seconds longer, his eyes locked onto mine and he said dont tell them, before he went slack and was consumed by the swirling eddies and currents of plasma. The antimatter stores breached soon after that and I managed to escape with nothing but the warp sled, and my memories, it took an eternity to reach the nearest planet... but when I arrived I was not noticed at first, and I took the first transport to Earth after selling the sled. For what may be the final time, this is Ensign Lazarus Montague... signing out. End Log. Attachment: Warning: Classified Starfleet Technology File Clearence: Level 6 Red Only Part of the document will be currently visible at this level of clearence. Overview: According to the theoretical model that I have been producing for some time now, it would take a field density of about 2.34g/mL with a thickness of about 2 cm that is split into two parts by magnetic fields of oposing charges. the field itself will be 1.56 m from the hull of the craft at a minimum, allowing for the energy to have room to disperse. The goals of this field configuration is to save power and allow for proper densities of plasma to: a)completely reflect large percentages of energy from directed energy attacks B ) refract the energy that does get through so that it has a negligable impact on the craft. The Magnetic Fields: The design of the nested magnetic fields allows for one of them to be breached while still allowing for near total containment of the plasma. The outermost field is one of a positive charge, effectively repulsing the plasma and containg it within the area where it is most effective. The second magnetic field is of a negative charge and is located almost exactly at 1 cm from the positive one. This field attracts the plasma and pushes it away from the craft during the activation stages. disruption of both fields simultaneously is relatively impossible due to their opposing charges. This dual field system has another purpose aside from containing the plasma, sustenance. The interaction of these two fields across the medium of plasma allows for constant movement and maintenance of the plasma, not allowing it to revert to gas. Laboratory simulations have shown that it is better than most superconductors iwhen it comes to preventing the loss of energy, as there are no atoms to interfere with the transfers. In the event of a total power loss, the electromagnetic fields will lose polarity and the plasma will suddenly escape into the vacuum. In the future, as better materials become available, batteries of batteries will provide backup power to all of the magnetic elements allowing for prolonged use without loss of power, currently energy densities in most batteries is two low for more than a few seconds of backup power. Plasma: One of the most important elements of the shield is the plasma, a low temperature variant of the traditional hot plasma typically produced as part of a fusion reaction (eg. stars) when energy of a special calibration is passed through helium and other primary sequence gasses. Although the intense heat usually causes these plasmas to fuse, producing energy and stabalized molecules. This plasma can be produced with minimal power drain on a relatively low current compared to its hot variant, approxemately 1% of the energy is used in its formation.As opposed to the flammable hydrogen that many conventiona plasmas are created from, this new variant uses helium gas and trace amounts of xenion gas (as a reaction sustainer), a much milder combination. The lower operationg temperature of this plasma allows for many of the problems with plasma flow and transport to no longer be relevent. Lower temeperature plasma acts more like a fluid than its hot variant allowing for nearly limitless pressure to through the same tubes used by its predeccessor, that was limited by magnetic field strength. This plasma is positively charged, and is a bit unusual due to the fact that it cannot transfer energy as efficiently as other plasmas, thereby limiting its posible applications in the field of energy transport and weaponry. This plasma can however, reflect and refract energy not tuned to its specific energy signature (including, interestingly enough, EM emissions, rendering the craft or object somewhat transparent as the light is refracted and distorted around the field), which can be modulated by the precise shape of the magnetic fields for security purposes. It is important to note, however, that this plasma cannot stop incoming projectiles of any kind (unless their mass is less than 4 kg and their speed is less than 10m/s.

Hypnotists hold no sway over the power of cheese...

To further demonstrate the need for glad press and seal wrap... and: Woman in fore ground> hey, I just might survive this one, with the bad guys locked in freezers.