Jamie Kroells

“Professional Advice” A Kroells and JoNs production Kansas padded down the corridor on all fours, rising on her two hind paws when the security guards outside the medical bay came into view. Pausing for a couple minutes to converse with them, JoNs then took her leave and entered the sickbay. Her gaze fell immediately on Jamie and the newest arrival to Agincourt. The familiar swoosh of the sickbay doors opening again. It was probably another doctor coming or going, like the twenty-something swooshes before it. But curiosity killed the cat. Which was a rather ironic thought when he turned around and saw Kansas glancing back at him. With a glance that was mildly distrustful lingering on the unconscious "visitor from the past eons", the Caitian turned her attention to Jamie and offered one of her more welcoming grins. "Lieutenant Kroells. How goes it?" She closed the distance between the two officers, her golden furred tail swishing lightly. His eyes were drawn to her tail for a moment, but quickly forced his eyes back to him for the better part of judgment. "Good, good. I've just been down here studying up." He quickly motioned to the plethora of padds on the bed beside him. Outwardly, Kansas seemed fine. The tail was a manifestation of the annoyance she felt inwardly. "I know Nimetti and Spitfire reported that the guest,” she motioned to the unconscious woman "was not of this time?" He shrugged. He honestly didn't know, the tests were still coming in on that. He didn't even know if escape pods of that century had the capability to keep someone in stasis that long, or if she had been sucked up by that wormhole, and sent through space and time at once...It had been documented before. "Apparently not. 2057 to be exact. Lovely time in human history that." The Caitian paused for a second. "I admit my human historical history is a bit rusty and will take your word on that." Another wary glance was directed at the sleeping female along with a low growl before she focused fully back on Jamie. "She seems pretty well dinged up." "I don't doubt it. If she really is from 2057, World War III would have just ended not to long ago." He sighed as he thought about it. "It was probably one of the worst moves we'd ever made as a species. Actually using nuclear weapons...how barbaric." He shrugged. "Either way, my guess is that she and the other colonists with her were fleeing Earth. Leaving behind war and all that bad stuff for greener pastures....I doubt this is the 'Brave New World' she envisioned." A good natured smirk appeared on the felinoid chief's features. "Heck, even I don't even consider our current predicament a "Brave New World." He smiled as he looked back to her. "Hey, I've got it lucky. At least I don’t have any previous memories to cause me to be disappointed by this place." Despite her concern over the security risks inherent in taking on an unknown passenger, JoNs couldn't help forgetting for a few seconds to chuckle at the statement. "You just take the situation as it comes eh? Well, I admit it is sound advice when I look at it from that perspective." She paced off a few steps and then paced back, paws on hips, her gaze taking in the entirety of sickbay. He watched her, just a hairs breath under admiring. Because that would be wrong...for some reason. "Sometimes it's best to forget where you came from if you can’t remember where you're going." Kansas spoke over her shoulder from where she was admiring a display of surgical instruments. "Sound advice." Then she turned in place, a stalking quality to her movements, heightened according to her underlying agitation. Her ears flipped about halfway back as her gaze stayed on the sciences chief. "Mind if this conversation enters into the off the record territory?" He chuckled. "Of course, I don’t even know where my record is." Lieutenant JoNs was not really receptive to the good humor, a bit unusual for her. "Please watch yourself around her.” She pointed a claw toward the visitor. "And, if any of your people have cause to interview her for historical records and such, tell them to be careful as well. I do not like this situation." He watched her speak, trying to gauge her body language, the words behind the words. "Why? What is it that worries you?" When she had time, Kansas would dwell on the fact that her subconscious had picked up on; that she and Jamie seemed to have switched roles. He was relaxed and she was wire tight and annoyed. "I don't trust her. Yes, I understand that I have no evidence and no reason to feel this way, unless you find an old news record that she was a serial killer or something. Just watch your back Jamie, that is all I am asking." Jamie looked over to her again. She seemed harmless enough, but Kansas's warning held merit none the less. Women couldn't get that old and still keep a figure like that without being evil or something. He smirked to himself, and looked back to Kansas. "Alright, I will...If only for you." The Caitian chief gave a grateful nod. "Thank you. I plan on informing the other section heads as well as Colonels Harper and Day of my concerns. Just to be on the safe side, is all." Then, confusion settled on the Cait’s features regarding the 'if only for you' comment, the confusion disappearing as soon as it had come. It was nothing. He slowly nodded, not exactly knowing what to say. He watched her for a short while before nervously looking away and standing up. "It's a uh...good idea. I've been meaning about talking to the Colonel about keeping a human staff in sickbay for the time being. Seeing Shadow and Kairi before didn't do much to help her psyche." JoNs glanced to the sleeping woman. "....so if she sees me that may be enough to send her into deep shock hmmm?" Kansas's feline eyes took on a more mischievous cast. He smirked. "No more so then Shadow phasing in and out of the pod to ask me questions and what not." He patted her on the shoulder somewhat awkwardly. "As for you...I'm sure there's not much we can do but strap her down. Or risk her accidentally running out an airlock over a looney fit over the 'warrior cat woman'." The Caitian's shoulder was rock hard with stress under the science officer’s touch, and she kept her gaze on the sleeping visitor. "Very well; I'll plan to keep my distance until you and your teams can acclimate her - if that is even possible." Kansas then turned her attention back to Jamie. "Thanks." She continued to look at him. You know, he was pretty attractive, even without the fur. He watched over the girl again before feeling eyes on him, and turning to Kansas. You know, she was pretty attractive, even with the fur. Both department chiefs moved at almost the same time, meeting in a rather definite lip lock. Kansas reached a paw up to clamp lightly on the back of his neck. Jamie was confused. But he reciprocated none the less. It wasn't actually all that bad; it was kinda warm and fuzzy. He'd never kissed a Caitian. Well, not that he could remember. The little voice in her head - you know the one screaming what the Hades are you doing?! Danger Kansas JoNs! Danger! - finally got through to her and broke through the pleasantness. She broke the contact. "I, uh, I need to leave. Departmental. Reports. Roster. Must leave." Oh Great Bird. She was speaking in broken sentences. That similar voice was going off in his head, except it was his adoptive mother yelling at him in loud German curses. He'd found a vid in his quarters of it. Why he would keep a video of her yelling at him..."Right. Uh. Yeah. I have to use the little scientist’s room." And like that he was gone. JoNs followed soon after - not to the little scientist's room, thank you very much - making a beeline for the safe haven of main security. Jamie ducked his head out of the restroom door. Kansas was gone and people were whispering. That wasn't a good combination. What was his damage!? Brain damage? That might explain it. He quickly walked back to the biobed of padds and the woman. Everyone was starring at him. He wanted to leave, but felt dutied to her. So he grabbed another padd. He looked it over. Some sound clip from a former President. He pushed play. "And I did not have sexual relations with her!" He blinked, dropped the padd and left. The End...?

“They should have manuals for this” Jamie tilted his head. She looked rather well for a woman that was three hundred forty years old. He was sitting on the bio bed next to hers, just simply watching. There was no need for scans, seeing as how medical had everything covered. He supposed there was no purpose for him here; then again there wasn’t much purpose for him down in the cargo bay. There were enough people down there as is. Scores of marines and security incase the pod suddenly did something…bad…as unlikely as that was. Besides he always had Shadow the tricorder and Odile, who to the chagrin of him even thinking it was a competent scientist. So he decided to take a more simple approach to this. Besides, he wanted to be here when she woke up. Not only for the scientific possibilities, but for her to have a familiar face. 2057…what a pitiful year. Large portions of Earth were still nuclear wastelands in the aftermath of World War III. He had to wonder if that’s why she left, her and her ship. Escaping a war torn Earth for greener pastures. Well that sure turned out great. He regarded the plethora of padds next to him on the bed. In short terms it was the 21st century in a nut shell. It was a rather dull century, with the only shining light being Cochrane’s warp flight, first contact with the Vulcans, human enlightenment…all that jazz. At least there was a song by a band called Limp Bizkit that had the “F” word in it forty-some times. He listened to that…a couple times. His mind began to drift over everything he’d learned over his past hour of reading. Donald Trump wanting to date his daughter, inconvenient truths, and some man named K-Fed. He sighed and hoped most of those Six Hundred Million dead were mouth breathers. Inevitably he was brought back to the mystery woman and the mystery…around her…uh mystery. The truth and whole truth behind her space bound exploration was still out. People were frantically digging through archives as Jamie thought. It was another job he could have helped out at. In fact, they seemed somewhat peeved when he walked in, grabbed a bunch of random information and left. It wasn’t their fault; he needed to learn about this horrid century of tyrant presidents, mad cows, and Anna Nicole Smith. He wondered if that’s why she’d left. No, not because of Anna. The whole nuclear holocaust thing. Good of a reason as any to leave Earth, to strike for greener pastures where people weren’t stupid enough to actually nuke each other. He let out a small sigh. Whatever reason, she’d be awake soon. And probably raving loony about aliens and such. He was here for the science of it all, never to tell anyone that he felt a sad sort of connection. Out of place, out of time. She didn’t know anyone or anything. This place was completely foreign to her, not much unlike how he felt when he woke up. At least he had kept the good knowledge that aliens were real and you could get a nice hot coca by simply asking a hole in the wall. She had it much harder, and he for one was determined to do what he could for her. That should have made a damn manual for this kind of thing. This wasn’t the age of early Starfleet where Vulcan’s knew what was what and time travel was impossible. Hell, he was looking at time travel right now. People had been through forwards, backwards and all around time. Yet no one had the smarts to do something about it. So he picked up a padd and started writing. “Chapter 1: So you’ve been unlucky enough to have the space time continuum play a prank on you...”

"Dain Bramage" He adjusted his collar once more before the ponderance that he was actually putting effort into looking nice for this. No ocasion like having your brain scanned and dissected by the docs to look spiffy. But then again, this may be the last time, why not make it a grand facade? Jamie pondered it. He liked things like that. Maybe he was just a man for formality. Maybe he just liked tuxedos... Tordai had been right. Sometimes its best not to go running around the ship with head injuries. He had been back in the lab for no more then fifteen minutes when Ensign Jones accidentally elbowed him in the head. That provoked a twelve hour coma, and a no work sentence until his brain wasn't so...damaged... He used to swing in to the labs, see how things were going, but to be honest he had no place there. He was an amnesiac officer on a ship lost on the edge of the galaxy, besides that, he wasn't that popular either. Apparently he was a pompous ######, that and he had apparently slept with one of his subordinates before. Upon learning that, he couldn't help but delve into his past. He poured over logs, asked those who knew him and the such. Sad thing was, the more he learned, the less he liked. He had a flair for the over dramatic. He often forgot he was a scientist, and believed he was a gung ho marine. He had a best friend who worked in the lowest levels of the ship, and that was only because they had never met. He decided he needed to change. Well...as well as one can change from something one can't remember. He started smiling at people, and stopped calling them stupid. He went to the holodeck, and changed his programs, which seemed to exclusively of him fighting some annoying Romulan named N'Dak. Apparently he didn't like him too much, something to do with that stab wound on his chest. He could half understand why someone would stab him. Life became good. Well, he supposed good wasn't a proper definition. He didn't know if the previous life was bad, or if he just enjoyed being annoying. At the very least he was happy now. He hung out in the lounge, he partied, and he was liked. By now, the quest for the old James Andrew Kroells had become a quest to forge a new one. Someone new, someone different then the tales he had heard. Kairi was the only real thing from before he'd like to remember, but even that was a secondary priority. She had told him pretty much everything they had, she was a nice girl, not bad to look at to boot. He had little doubt he could come to feel for her the way he did before. In all the time he had been forced from duty not a single memory came back. No images, sounds, scents. Nothing was familiar. Apparently there were medical processes that could help him regain his memories, but nothing could be done with his brain in its fragile state. So for the moment he was content. Life was livable, and finding out who he was could easily be pushed on the back burner until such a time as was appropriate. He readjusted his collar once more and then looked in the mirror, a small smile curling on his lips. Maybe being brain damaged wasn't such a terrible thing. At least he didn't drool uncontrollably.

“Take it With A Grain of Salt” A Kroells and Harper production The conversation with Kairi was short lived. As much as she wanted to help, he could sense the hurt it caused her. He quickly realized she wasn't the best one to be asking. So he excused himself to continue his search. He debated about his own department, but from the few random conversations he had struck with people in the hallways, something called and Odile was in his office, and apparently should be avoided whenever possible. In response, he headed towards the bridge, and this Colonel Harper, who apparently was in charge around here. Hopefully then he'd have some answers. Harper was hovering over the shoulders of her tactical officers, concerned about the Agincourt's vulnerable position in what was probably enemy territory, when the lift opened. Automatically she glanced over, and straightened up in shock. "Mr. Kroells," she said, "it's good to see you up and about again." More unfamiliar faces. However, he was apparently chief of sciences. This was where he worked, for it to feel so foreign hurt more then he thought it would. Before he could dwell on it however, he was pulled away by the female's voice. "You must be Colonel...uh....Harper? Right?" "Oh, dear," said the correctly identified colonel. "Perhaps we'd better step into the Ready Room." Harper motioned to the door, assuming Kroells would not be able to locate it on his own. He gave her a brief nod, before allowing her to lead him into the room. He began to look around, taking in the sights, committing them to memory like he had with every other place he visited. Taking a seat in one of the chairs in the small, casual meeting area, Harper said gently, "Not quite recovered fully, I take it?" "Tordai said something about not taking to many shots to the head from Odile, whatever that means." He motioned his hand towards the door, where his..."travel buddy" unassuming Jones stood. "And I'm apparently a danger to myself.” She nodded. "I'm sure things will come back to you in time, Lieutenant. In the meantime, what can I do for you?" He let out a small sigh and looked back to her. "Problem is, that it might not. According to Tordai, traumatic amnesia cases are touch and go. I'm basically hoping my brain to heal itself. And incase it doesn't...I suppose I'm here for some information." "All right," Harper said gamely, not letting her concern show. "What would you like to know?" He pondered for a moment, realizing he really didn't know at all what it was he wanted here. "To be honest, I'm not so sure. I doubt this is normal thing around here..." "Hardly." She chuckled slightly. "I'm afraid this is as far from normal as it gets." James raised an eyebrow. "To the best of my understanding, we're been thrown across the galaxy through some sort of a subspace conduit, and we're thousands of light-years from home." "That's about the size of it, yes. Also, we've apparently stumbled into the middle of a war zone. Just to make things interesting," she added. He smirked. "This job just gets better and better." "Somehow I think I've heard you say that before." "I'll have to take your word for it." For a moment Harper debated telling him about his history of smart-assed remarks, but it occurred to her that she might not want to encourage a return to that behavior. "How are you with general information, Lieutenant? Think you could manage.... oh, say, a sensor analysis?" "I believe so. To the best of my remembrance, I can perform most tasks...I mean, I remember knowing how to do them..." "Well, then, perhaps we can arrange for you to take on some light duties." She smiled at him. "Getting back into a routine might jog your memory. Shall I ask Dr. Tordai for her opinion on it?" "You can. She wants me back in sickbay soon. So I don't know what happens after that." "Don't worry, we won't leave you there to rot," Harper assured him. "I'll enquire about getting you back on a partial duty schedule." He gave her a brief smile. "Thanks. However, I can't help but note you avoided the entire conversation of my past. I hope you're not always this sly." She sighed and crossed her legs. "Frankly, Lieutenant, I'm not certain what I can tell you. We weren't exactly close, really." He shrugged. "Well, I tried people who 'knew' me already. She couldn’t handle it. So I figured it best to go to someone with less...intimate knowledge. Anything you knew, or such would be a great help." "Kairi?" she questioned gently. "Yeah..." "Shipboard gossip had the two of you as a couple for quite some time. I'd imagine this is rather difficult for her, as well." He let out a half hearted chuckle as he pondered it. "I think she's more tore up about it then I am." "Well, you can't remember the emotions, so that makes sense." "Well not a lot makes sense, I'm basically relying on people to be honest" "And I'm sure they are." Harper paused for a moment, then said delicately, "Ah -- when you do go into the science lab... Well. Take whatever Condacin says with a grain of salt. Or a shaker." He pondered her words for a moment. "Did she really break my nose?" "You heard about that," she sighed. "I'm sure I can handle her." "I'm sure you can." "She's not going to try and kill me or anything?" Kroells looked at her with minor concern. "Apparently I'm not supposed to be taking blows to the head." "She's not really violent," Harper assured him, "just a bit... tetchy. And she'll certainly be honest with you; she just has a rather odd perspective on things sometimes." He nodded. "I'll have to take that into consideration." With that he quickly stood. He could sense she really didn’t have much time for this either. He thanked her for what help she did, and excused himself from the bridge with one more destination before returning to Tordai and more head scans.

“Living In Picture” A Kroells and Kassem production James walked the corridor of the Prometheus Class ship; at least that's what he recognized it as. It was odd. He knew what every wall panel did, where every turbo lift junction went to...but every face he passed in the corridors was unfamiliar. For that fact, he couldn't even remember the name of the damned ship. But he knew where he was going, and what he had to do. His pace sped, still closely followed by the large burley medical assistant named Jones. Tordai was insistent that he was not to be unsupervised. As he reached the doors indicated as Kairi's quarters, he quickly hit the chime. A tear fell down Kairi's cheek as she continued to look at the pictures. She couldn't believe this was happening. She wiped the tear from her cheek as she looked up to the door. "Enter." James looked over to Jones. "Stay here." Jones opened his mouth to protest, but he cut him off. "I'm not going to be alone. Please." The burly man pondered it for a second, before slowly nodding. James quickly nodded back as he entered the quarters. Kairi was a little shocked to see Jamie standing there in her doorway. "Hi. What...are you doing here?" James looked over to her, in all honestly a little confused himself why he came. "You were the first one to visit me...I figured you should be the first one I visit..." She smiled at him. This was hard for her. She then moved a few pictures from her bed to clear a spot. "Please, have a seat." He almost instantly noticed the pain in her eyes. He was starting to doubt coming here first was the best idea as he took a seat. Kairi looked down at the picture in her hand. "I was just looking at a few things." His eyes glanced down at the picture of him and her. They were so happy, and he couldn't remember a bit of it. "...Where were we?" "This was taken on Earth, at my home. That's Hong Kong in the background." She decided not to go into details. He paused a moment, watching her expressions while recalling the event. "We must have been pretty good friends for you to take me to your home." "Yeah...friends..." she frowned. He let out a small sigh, grasping her hand. "...I...I know this is hard. But I need you to tell me everything. I need to know who I am." She gripped his hand, giving it a little squeeze. "Where would you like to begin?"

“One More Day...” Blank stare Disrepair There's a big black hole gonna eat me up someday (But) someday Fades away Like a memory - or a place that you'd rather be Some place Lost in space An itch in my head that's telling me somewhere Somewhere out there anywhere I don't care get me out of here Nine Inch Nails, “Deep” His hands rubbed his tired and weary face, the blood, sweat, and grime from both surfaces mixed together, making him feel only more disgusting. He spread his elbows out, only to be rewarded with a shard of glass digging into his right one, making yet another copper stain on Captain Davies desk. A small disappointed sigh was all he could mutter from the pain. Jamie couldn’t help but feel weird, sitting in the Captain’s ready room, but given the disheveled state of the Alpha Section, and his near constant need to be on the bridge, it made a good get away, a good place to get some work done. He looked over the broken Padds, the ones the Captain had left behind, mixed with a few working ones of the young Chief of Sciences. He tried to lean back in the chair, his exhausted muscles protesting the movement. He stopped for a moment to think... How long had it been since he showered, ate, slept? He paused, letting the cold reality slap him in the face. He didn’t even know what fraking day it was. For how long had he let himself become this zombie? How long would it continue? With Robair...gone he had been forced into leading the rag tag bunch that populated the Alpha Section. With Beta here, the Colonel was technically the ranking officer, but with their inability to dock... Would she stay there? How long would he have to sit in that God damned chair? How long before he... His elbow dug further into the glass. A conscious or subconscious movement he didn’t know, but the desired effect was achieved. He forced himself to stop thinking, at least in those manners. For now, this was the role he had been given. He’d have to play it to perfection too. They were out here, on the raggedy edge; Gods only knew what lay around the next corner. All Hellfire could descend on them at any moment, and they knew it, he knew it. But it was his job to make them forget, if only enough to let them function as people. Was it his role then to carry their burden? Would he have to put on a brave face and a smile just to get them to man their stations? How long could they last like this? How long could anyone last like this? This was why he wore blue. The command staff had way too many responsibilities. The crew looked up to them. They were the beacons in the darkness. The ones that pointed the way. He couldn’t do it...he just... His head fell back. He slept. He snored. And it was amazing. If you were real I could take what's apart and put it all back together

Imperial Fleet Archives Biographical Section Subject: James Andrew Kroells Access Granted General Information Name: James Andrew Kroells Nickname: Sir James Gender: Male Age: 25 Species: Human Height: 5’11 Weight: 165 lbs Hair Color: Brown Eye Color: Hazel Skin Color: White Languages Spoken: English, and Romulan File Photo: Family Information Father: Travis Kroells, Imperial Governor of Romulus Mother: Unknown Service Information Rank: Lieutenant Senior Grade Position: Chief Science Officer and Operations Manager Assignment: ISS Agincourt ICC-81762 Service Awards Service Stripe (2) Harper's WOTW (2) Bronze Good Conduct Medal (1) C.S. Lewis Excellence in Writing Award (1) Medical Information Following the attack during the Imperial Conquest Celebration, Jamie suffered extensive and severe damage by debris. His left leg, crushed under the collapsed ceiling was wholly replaced by artificial pieces below the knee. His left kidney, impaled by a metal rod was artificially replaced, along with three of his lower ribs. His shoulder, also impaled by a metal rod was repair by more conventional methods, with little artificial replacement. Due to these injuries, Jamie walks with a small limp. Distinguishing Features Scar- Left Shoulder Scar- Left Kidney Area Scars- Left leg, along with artificial replacement below knee History Born of a influential military family, James seems destined for greatness, if only because of his ancestral predecessors. His father; an influential officer and “diplomat”, and now local governor for the Ch’Rihan system. His grandfather; a fleet admiral. James was placed in the academy at the age of 16, younger then most, but not too young for family influence to turn a few cogs. Since then, James has either out performed, or killed his rivals to rise the ranks. While on board the ISS Valdez, a alien uprising took place. The captain was killed, and a ASEC Klingon hijacked the ship, intending to “liberate” his home world. James bided his time until convincing the Klingon to take a minor short cut through a presumably safe nebula. James protected himself and a few hand selected people who were loyal to him in a shielded science lab, while the ship drifted through the radiation and killed off the rest of the crew. After his debriefing at Starfleet HQ on Earth, Jamie was promoted to Lieutenant and transferred to the recently constructed ISS Agincourt. While several underlings have attempted to off him during the first several months, James has managed to keep his department in order, even managing a secret assassination of the former Ops Manager, allowing Ops to combine with his department, giving him broad now powers, and later a promotion to Lieutenant Senior Grade, making him one of the youngest in the fleet to hold the rank. For the short term, James appears content to solidify his hold over the Science and Ops departments, while allowing the other Senior officers and Command staff feud over control of the ship. However, the strategist he is, Jamie is ready to pounce at a moments notice to do what needs to be done.

Updated: Service Information, Service Record, and Service History I ran out of time on the service history, so expect another update soon :)

“Absolute Power” “Begin Chief Science Officer’s Log: Condacin once again proves to be more and more difficult by the day. I can’t help but think that at this point she only shows up to her shifts to aggravate me. She is insubordinate, arrogant, and at times violent.” Jamie took a brief moment to run his fingers along his repaired nose. “The matter of her assault against me is still a matter of great frustration to me. Even more so are the disciplinary records Colonel Harper has decided to take against her. Little more then a writing in her file, and she was on her merry way. While I won’t deny personal bias in the situation, learning that both she and the Colonel have served together in the past gives me little comfort. I cant deny bias, but I wonder if the Colonel can say the same in this matter. I do intend to confront her soon on this matter, however...a certain...delicacy must be used.” He paused again, pondering his words for a moment. “Computer, delete last sentence and begin recording.” “I intend to meet with her to discuss this, and I hope to find that we still have similar views on...ship policy. However, on a better note, I’ve just received confirmation on Helm reorganization. Lt. Pilot will now be reporting to me, as part of the joint Sciops department. Upon learning this, I plan to meet with 1st Lt. Prell soon to discuss the possibility of creating a streamlined method for slaving all three groups together.” “However, after learning this information, I can’t help but feel...strange. When I was promoted to Operations Manager, I was honored, perhaps even a bit arrogant in my new position. But now, I can’t help but feel as if I’m simply gaining ‘power’. The thought of so many ships systems and departments falling to my command is an...interesting feeling. While it carries a great responsibility...it also boasts a nuance of...respect, power...authority. Also, as I think of it, I cant help but notice I’m stealing the Colonels jobs. As executive officer, Pilot and Tethra would have reported to her. Now I hold power over the Minervan’s position, and Pilot reports to me. Its an odd feeling, knowing that as my power and responsibility grow, she becomes less...vital, powerful...useful.” He quickly paused. “Computer, delete last paragraph and end log.” He quickly sat down, holding the new orders in his hand. What was he thinking? Talk of power in this way could be construed as mutinous. The idea of it almost sickened him...almost. However, the more Jamie thought of it, the more it seemed appealing. The more it seemed appealing, the more it seemed doable. He already had Sciops and now Helm under his command. He pondered it for a moment, he was a rather powerful man. Only four people on the ship out ranked him by either rank of position. Prell was too busy down in engineering all the time to understand what was going on. At the same time, Robair may outrank him, but he has little say in what Jamie does in his departments. Besides, the young CSCI felt they had a slight understanding, after the handling of Odile. In the simplest terms, only Davies and Harper had any real control over him. And the more responsibility he assumed, the less she had. He stopped for a moment, trying to think rationally. Was he seriously thinking this, or was it just some moment of frustration over Odile and Harper’s handling of the situation? He couldn’t help but feel that, even if it was he was already far beyond it. Thoughts of power and grandeur filled his mind. While he still reported to her, a large portion of the ship reported to him first. Although he knew such a combination would not evolve past this, the thought still past his mind. What if Prell and Levy had to report to him first? What power that could be. He wasn’t speaking in literal terms. To be the stop man between the departments and command carry a...very heavy power indeed. Most people see power and think of Davies, sitting in his chair, ordering people around. “Do this, do that. Go here, go there.” That kind of authority was power in its rawest. But to be the man between the departments and Davies, that was true power. The ability to get people to say and do things you want them to for your own goals. Manipulation and intimidation are effective tools, especially for one without four pips and a nice chair like Jamie. The more he thought about it, the more it intrigued him. It was not the king who ruled the kingdom. It was the man off the side who whispers in his ear. ...Corrupts Absolutely

“Doctor, Heal Thy Self…Please?” Jamie now stood in an isolated area of sickbay with Desdemona Levy, delusional and only half conscious at best. Test results were coming back and hitting him like a pile of rocks. Best they could tell, the virus was spread by touch, at the moment. There was no telling if it could mutate and become airborne, which was why he kept sickbay quarantined. Many of the doctors, and random patients that happened to be in the room at the time protested, but he wasn’t going to have it. He was the ranking officer here, and would continue to be until Robair, Harper, or Davies himself came down here and took over. For the moment, he was solely in charge of sickbay, something he didn’t much like. Besides the lack of medical experience, he had personally yelled at most of these men and women at sometime during his numerous stays. Convincing them to do as he said would be difficult. Especially, given the data now coming him, both Midshipman Reen and himself were probably infected. Given the short incubation rate, he didn’t have much time to set things up properly before he was too delusional to work. However, Levy had direct contact with the dogs; the only way the virus passed from her to him was when Jamie held her up. Hopefully, things wouldn’t come on so fast for him… He paused as he looked down at her the delusional rantings, and the obvious pain…not something Jamie envied. He was never afraid of dieing per se, he just had his preferences. Being cooped up in sickbay, waiting for a cure while he went under wasn’t his preferred method. He almost wished he was back on Pax Primus, he almost wished he had been killed there. He had been pondering such a fate for a long time now, and it almost seemed preferential to the life he was living now. There would have been no Iron claw, no VDC. He let out a slow sigh, pondering on how masochistic he had become as of late. He looked down at the Padd containing the medical department’s roster. Hopefully this doctor Delphi would come around soon. He seemed to be the most qualified doctor here, possibly even rivaling Levy in expertise. He would be the one to lead the investigation into this cure. Hopefully Odile wouldn’t use this situation to usurp him in Science…or Ops… What was he doing again? He paused for a second, feeling the room become more flush with heat. He slowly undid his uniform, leaving the undershirt behind attempting to find some comfort in this heat. Pretty soon this situation would be out of his hands, something that definitely didn’t sit well with him. Too many people on this ship have a bone to pick with him…and an “accidental death” would be most embarrassing.

“Points of Authority” A Kroells and Odile production (Authors Note: This is a direct continuation of the sim, so read your chat log if you forgot how things ended.) Condacin spat into his face. "Grozit, you idiot. How dare you lay a hand on me." Twisting, she kneed him in the stomach. His hands dropped to his knees to hold himself up, the urge to double over tempting. quickly drew the personal hand phaser he had under his desk out aiming it at her. "You're not having a very good first day 'Petty' Officer." Her low voice laughing in low tones, she moved to the left, easily smacking the phaser out of his hand with a perfectly-trained kick. "Like hell you'll get me that easily, human boy." Starting to snicker, she stretched, glancing at her hands. "You weren't prepared for my blow. You should be more cautious." By repositioning her legs, she opened herself up to him. In an obvious Romulan style, he rushed her, slipping her knife, while getting behind her and bringing the blade to her neck. "I shouldn't have to be prepared for your blow. Incase you forgot, we're scientists not Klingons." Yelping, she glared at him. "I forgot. If we were on a Klingon ship there would be honor. I haven't found that yet." "If you're culture needs to break their superior officer's noses to be honorable, that's not my problem. You WILL follow my orders, or you'll find yourself on an outpost station faster then you can say 'Honor less'". She seemed to relax for a moment before elbowing him in the jaw and retrieving her knife. "I should kill you for taking this. It belonged to the man who killed my mother." She smirked, cautiously flicking her finger against the razor-sharp edge. "And of course, he didn't give it to me willingly. Took a little bit of effort there, too." He rubbed his jaw for a short while, as he looked back to Ember, who seemed to be shocked beyond all belief in the corner. "Personally, I could care less about your dead mother, or your ability to kill people and then loot their corpses." If she was concerned with his cares, she didn't show it. "Danteri son of a bitch never knew what hit him." She smiled again, an evil glint in her eye. "As for you, just take my advice and do not anger me. I'll take your orders, Lieutenant boy, but the knife stays." He shot her a cocky smirk, pretty sure he'd have shot her by now if he still had his phaser. It was justifiable. "At the moment, it doesn't matter. You can sit the brig for the rest of this mission, and then get the hell of this ship. Consider your 'Transfer Request' accepted. "I didn't transfer, k'g'ib face. I wouldn't transfer away from Agincourt because of some overzealous Starfleet officer who decides a female can't have her dagger most likely as some sort of compensation for his own physical shortcomings." She smirked even wider, looking like an Amazon out of Greek mythology. He rolled his eyes. "The knife is a safety hazard. One I wont have. You seem to care for it like a child would its stuffed bear. I would say you’re the one over compensating." "Spare me your human analogies, please. There are few of your kind that I can actually tolerate. The rest of you are weaklings. Fools. Try to work to get off that list." He gave her an sarcastic smile. "It wasn't a apology. You'll play by my rules, or you wont play at all." Turning on her heel, she clicked her tongue at him. "Grozit. You've no diplomatic skills at all." The bottom half of her face contorted into a sick approximation of a simpering smile. "I'll play... you're damned right I'll play." Waving her knife at him and snickering at Ember one more time, she headed out into the Labs to face the music.

“Lack of Judgment” And I'd make it right if you wanted it I want it back more than you know I'd cross the line if you wanted it I want you back One Hundred and Twenty seconds wasn’t really a lot of time to do anything, especially when you realized you’ve done something that would more then likely get you killed. However, as Jamie watched the tense exchange in Main Engineering, he realized what was necessary. He hadn’t paid attention in the least bit, to the point where if someone asked him what was going on in there, he wouldn’t have the foggiest clue. Rather then focus on the ship, and all the lives in there, the only thing he saw was Kairi slowly creeping to Prell’s office. The only thing he felt was a quiet fury if something should happen to her. And that was when he realized it. In the interest of ultimately saving her above everything, he had given the terrorists exactly what they needed to hold the ship by a the neck. Without being able to go into MVAM mode, if the Romulans destroyed the middle core, the entire ship would go. If he had let things be, Harper could have split the ship, potentially saving two thirds of the crew. Not exactly a kind light to the engineers, and every unfortunate soul on those decks, but every Vulcan knew the saying “the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few”. He gave off a small scowl. It was rather sobering that even inadvertently, and with good intentions he had subconsciously sold out the ship for a single person, no matter how important. For some odd reason thoughts of his father popped into his head. Travis told him once of a woman who showed him what duty and loyalty really meant. Jamie had to doubt that Travis would be smiling proudly right now. So he gently floated several inches of the ground, intently staring at the view screen, reeling in the knowledge of what his lack of judgment has done. And I'm waiting for you To get that feeling once again Reunited in the end And I've been waiting for you To capture my imagination ‘Cause I've been fooled by the illusions in my head In my head

“Color Blind” Jamie had almost laughed out loud. He cared. Cared about the people on that damn ship. Cared about what they did, about who they were, why they died. How did they repay him? By taking over Main Engineering, and holding everyone hostage, if they hadn’t already killed them. His mind froze for a second. Kairi was with them...what if? No...she isn’t. But what if...His mind collapsed in on itself. He couldn’t think, couldn’t feel, couldn’t move. What would he do if she was gone? It was almost lugubrious. His mind quickly came to rest though, since the feeling only lasted a moment. Rage quickly replaced it. His hand formed a tight fist, as his teeth unknowingly bit his lip. That copper taste brought him back, but only so far as to picture what he’d do to them. The writhing bodies, the pleas in Rihan, the knife slowly twisting the insides like spaghetti on a fork. Those artificial muscles in his leg clenched, ready to sprint for that door before Harper could knock him out. Ready to somehow find a weapon and avoid the security down there. Ready to take down a Romulan strike force, all for the one he loved. His bionic leg was cool like that. He froze for a second, forcing the words into his mind. “You’re not a gray shirt, not a gold shirt. Your a God Damned Blue shirt!” Inside he collapsed, a lot like his mind had 3.14 seconds ago. It hit him like a pile of bricks. He wasn’t a covert agent, he wasn’t some expert killer, he was just starting to become any good at Hand to Hand thanks to the Colonel. The time on the Ironclaw, the firefight on Arkanis, they really hadn’t done anything other then damage his psyche. He saw his reflection in the a dark part of an LCARS display. There was no Romulan, there was no murderer, there was just a scared scientist. He let out a sigh inside, signaling his internal defeat. He couldn’t save Kairi, at least not with brute force. But he could help. He would fix those internal sensors. He would fix them like he was fighting those Romulans. He would fix them like he would pick Kairi up and carry her away. He would fix them, because for the first time in a very long time, he knew it was what he was truly the best at.

::Has had that department covered for like 2 1/2 years::

Hmm a good year indeed :P From Reman incursions, to Jamies little stint of pyschosis, Poo smelling Klingon planets, Murderous pacifists, Terrorist bombings, ensuing tortures, that one plot that proved we cant do undercover work... And now we kick off year two with a drunk driving acident ^_^ This all has me asking one simple thing. "What the Hell was I thinking!?"