Mark Garrison

“Cite Occupational Experience Here” “You know Segami...sometimes I really hate you.” Mark muttered to no one in particular as his fist collided with one of the weapons lockers in the empty armory, producing echoing clang that held in the air for a few seconds. He glanced around, as if to confirm that no one was there before releasing a large sigh. How the hell was he supposed to do his job like this? Preparing weapons and equipment for away team excursions was one of the jobs Mark volunteered for more often then not. A large reason was because he didn’t trust anyone else to handle the equipment he’d be using for a mission, and to a smaller extent, he’d hate to see anything happen to one of his officers because someone forgot to properly calibrate the weapons, or...God forbid...forget to charge the battery. In the academy, and his early time as an Ensign he’d been taught the tactical use behind all the toys in this armory. But for all his training, education, and battlefield experience...he might as well be a doctor in here looking for a laser scalpel. They knew nothing about the Satarimi, the apparently not so reclusive race that was rumored to have information about the blood cult the Excalibur was currently tracking. Did the crew know anything about their technology? No, the Excalibur could be suddenly blown up by some random, extremely advanced technology....which was always a comfort thought. Their culture? Nope, nothing there either. Were they pacifists, who would be offended by the sight of weapons on a person? Or where they valiant warriors, who honored and respected a worthy opponent? It was only the tip of the iceberg though. Where would they be meeting the Satarimi on their home world, probably surrounded by a fleet of their ships in orbit? Who else would be going on the mission that security would have to protect? What were the planetary conditions, would it forced members of his staff to sit this one out? Would it be daytime, could Victria even go? Victria. He thought with a chuckle, more out of frustration then happy thoughts. There was a conundrum wrapped in an enigma toped with fangs. What was she to him anyway? She held two of his most appealing qualities in a woman, beautiful and deadly. But that didn’t answer the question at hand. He pondered the grape vine, and the rumored love triangles, rhombuses and octagons that had formed in it. Atticus and Laarell. Atticus and Victria. Ah-Windu and Victria. Jaden and B’Etor. Even after a few weeks onboard he had already decided that the majority of the crew didn’t get enough play in high school to get this kind of stuff out of their system. At least the two doctors were married, and had a little one. It made at least one couple that everyone knew what they were doing behind closed doors. He smirked, as his mind distracted him from his original thought. Mark looked around the armory once more, decided that the standard “Phasers and Tricorders” set would work. Besides, Segami would be ultimately in charge of everything. Garrison just couldn’t sit up in that damned bridge anymore. That place proved the more pips you had, the less sanity you left. He sighed and walked out into the corridor, resetting the computer lock on the armory. Only a couple more hours now...

This is what I get for writing a log.

"A Late Night Toast" Trees were being cut down in Mark Garrison's quarters. There were no chainsaws however, just constant sounds of him snoring with every breath taken. He was still half dressed, the top half of his uniform strewn on the floor, while the bottom resided with him in his recliner. The guitar, with a padd of sheet music rested precariously on the arm of the chair. Mark had intended to get at least a half hour in, but after a full shift, a hour training session with his fellow officers, and the last half shift with the Marines as punishment by the Captain, it was a minor miracle he had even made it into his chair before passing out. His heavy slumber was probably the reason why he hadn't heard the door chimes, the doors open, or Victria enter his quarters. Her head tilted slightly as she stood just in front of his chair, studying him as he slept. She had often wondered what humans experienced when they slept and what dreams crept into their minds. She glanced down to the bottle in her hands, contemplating whether to leave it for him to find when he awoke or bring it back when he was conscious. His weariness was beginning to seep into her and take its toll. She shook herself free of the feeling and turned to leave, placing the bottle on his coffee table on her way past. "Mrrmpf." He shifted slightly, breaking the monotonous chain of snores. The guitar, finally getting the last push it needed, hit the ground with a resonating thud. Garrison snapped out of his slumber in shocking fashion. He jumped up, realizing he wasn't alone in his darkened quarters. His fists clenched into rocks, adrenaline and his fight or flight response kicking in. He quickly loosened however, feeling Victria's presence through their bond more than seeing her. Any other time he would have cracked a remark about her sneaking into his quarters while he was asleep, but he was just too worn out. He simply fell back into his chair with a sigh. "I would apologize for waking you, but you did that to yourself." She had whirled at the sound and half expected him to attack in his stupor, but relaxed when she saw him slump in realization. "Though I would not have come if I had known how exhausted you were. Extra shifts wearing you down?" She stood motionless by the table, searching his face and noting the signs of fatigue. "Between Commander Segami's training sessions and the Captain's extra shifts with the marines..." He trailed off, contemplating standing up, but his muscles quickly shot that idea down. He was a bit more toned then when he had come on board, but for the torture the marines had inflicted on him he'd of preferred a beer gut. They were easier to manage. "So what warrants the occasion?" He checked the time, wondering how long he had been out, before looking over to Victria and the bottle on his table. The marines had taken every drink he had kept, so it must be hers. "What's in the bottle...?" He glanced back from the bottle to her with a small amount of nervousness on his face. "Alcohol of some sort. I am not exactly sure. I did not even know if and what you drank. But I read somewhere that humans imbibed during celebrations and so I brought it to share, or as a gift." She peered dubiously at the bottle. "I doubt it will be to my liking, but you might enjoy it." Glancing back, she arched a brow at his expression. "What were you expecting? The blood of newborn children?" she asked, a slight smirk forming on her lips. "You have been having your teams patrol around sickbay a lot this past week." He chuckled as he pulled himself out of the chair with a groan. He moved over to her and the table, grabbing the bottle to examine the gift. He wasn't very picky when it came to alcohol, his roommate at the academy had seen to that. He looked back to her, suddenly remembering the statement before the babies. "Well, I'll have to ask again, what warrants the occasion? I know it's not my birthday." "A victory of sorts. I have recently had contact with one from my home planet. A full-stage rebellion is taking place even now and they have defeated one of the Scorpiad fleets, no small task considering the casualties that the Federation sustained while engaging them." Clasping her hands in front of her, she perched herself on the arm of one of his chairs, one booted foot resting in the seat. "Though the outcome is far from decided and this is only one small battle won, I thought it deserved a small measure of celebration. The Scorpiad will retaliate with force, no doubt, but we can at least enjoy this moment of victory." A small smile formed on his lips as he watched her. He needed no further encouragement. "Well, then let's drink." She lifted the bottle and twisted the mouth until the cork popped free. Sniffing it briefly, she then held it for him to inspect. "Not wine. I have tasted wine. Something stronger?" He took the bottle from her and brought it to his nose. It smelled very potent, but sweet at the same time. "Saurian Brandy?" His smile grew. "Where did you get this?" "If I told you, it would make you an accomplice," she confessed, smiling slightly. "But I will warn you that you might not want to leave this bottle out in the open where it could be found. Ah-Windu would not be pleased." "Oh I will." He frowned and gestured to a small cabinet in the kitchen. "The Marines cleaned me out during their 'weapons check'." "Strange. They barely scanned my room and took nothing. I have several items that are not standard issue, though I registered them on the manifests before I returned to the Excalibur. Do you think they were scared of my reaction or were given orders to leave my quarters be?" He glanced over as he grabbed a couple glasses from a shelf. "I wouldn't be surprised if it's both. The Captain seems to do as he pleases, though I have an aching suspicion that it has to do with me raiding his quarters." He shrugged, and moved back to her, depositing the glasses on the table next to the brandy. "It's not that important though, I've learned my lesson about staying off the sensor grid." "You brought that on yourself, you know. Corizon is very serious about his blades, especially the one he keeps on his central display. Did you collect it along with the others?" She lifted the bottle and poured a small amount into each of the glasses. "Of course not, I can respect a man who cares for his weapons, but it was a minor armory in there. I doubt the senior staff would have enough arms to handle them all." He grabbed his drink from the table, but held off drinking it. It was her celebration after all. "Besides, I was just following Segami's orders," he added with a chuckle. "Sometimes it is better to ignore orders in favor of self preservation," she replied honestly. "I think he might have been harsher on you than he normally would because he needed to make an example out of you." She lifted her own glass and swirled the liquid inside. "Better me then someone else then. I don't scare that easy." He watched her play with the alcohol. "So, are you going to make a toast?" "A toast?" Her eyes lifted from her glass. "Yes, they can be vows and pledges, or for celebrations, weddings or some important occasion." He met her eyes. "Usually one says something pertaining to the cause of the toast, and then everyone drinks." "Ah," her brow furrowed slightly as she pondered. "Then I suppose I would simply say, 'Death to all Scorpiads'. Do you think that would be too pretentious of me?" He smirked. "No, I think it's quite fitting." He tapped his glass to hers gently, producing a small ring. "Cheers." She smirked and took a sip of the liquid, letting it roll over her tongue as she studied the flavor. "Not the least bit satisfying, but interesting nonetheless," she commented, watching for his reaction. He drank as she did, enjoying the sweet taste. This wasn't his first time drinking Saurian Brandy, but this was one of the finer vintages he'd have. "Good stuff, but I doubt it's to your sort of palette. You should try Klingon Bloodwine." Her attention snapped to him at the mention of blood. "I suppose it is just a name?" He smirked as he took another sip. "Rumor has it that there's fermented blood in it." "And why am I only just now hearing about this drink?" She drained the contents of her glass and poured herself one with significantly more brandy. "Maybe everyone's worried you're a violent drunk." He had a good laugh at that as he finished his own glass and poured and equal amount to Victria's glass. "As opposed to... the rest of the time when I'm not the least bit violent?" She smirked and drained her second drink as well, setting the empty glass on the table. "And it would require that I ingest an obscene amount of alcohol to become inebriated. You are more likely to see me suffer from Hunger than drunkenness." As he finished off the rest of his glass he considered challenging her iron stomach, but his last brandy hangover forced that idea out. "Yes, I'm sure you're just a cuddly teddy bear drunk." "I am afraid that you will never have the chance to find out," she stated matter-of-factly. However, she did not attempt another glass. Too much human food always left her feeling uneasy and ill. "I suppose I should let you return to your rest. Next duty shift is in a few hours. Do you have more Marine patrols as well?" "No, today was the last one, thank God." He unconsciously groaned at he picked up the guitar and padd, setting them in their proper places. "It was a good workout, but sleep sounds much, much better." "Enjoy the drink. It is not quite to my taste." Her lips twitched in amusement. "I will see you on duty shift, yes? I will be outlining my next training class if you have need of me between now and then, though I suspect that you will be unconscious for the majority." He groaned, thinking about his next training session in two days. "What are you doing again, Stealth and Recon?" "Yes," she said flatly, obviously not impressed with the progress of her trainees. "Feel free to attend the next session if you are not on shift. The schedule is posted in security." "At least your trainees don't have weapons." He grumbled loudly. "I'm supposed to train people in weapons and tactics, and a third of my trainees are doctors I wouldn't trust with a butter knife. The other third are engineers who try to maximize their phasers performance, and the science department huddles around each other to discuss reports and sensor logs. I think there was a reason why these officers weren't given weapons in the academy..." "At least you seem far more suited to dealing with non-security... people... things. I do hope that you have safety procedures in place for those classes." He had to laugh at her description of the unarmed of the ship. "Just because I can deal with people doesn't mean I want to. And as for the safety procedures, let's just say my students amaze me with every class." "I can only imagine," she said, still smiling. "You should sleep. No doubt, you are going to need all you can get. Though we have had no more incidents of officer duplicates, there are still a large amount of reports to sift through. And I have a feeling that Segami is going to have little time for such things." "Alright, alright." He smirked, before grabbing his clothes off the ground and tossing them into the bedroom. "By the way, thanks for the drink." "Just returning the favor," she replied, fangs bared teasingly. With a final smirk, she exited his quarters and disappeared into the hallway.

I've heard that the Hula Girls there are amazing.

“Out of Character” Mark glanced himself over once more, making sure that everything on his uniform was tucked, pressed, and folded properly on his uniform. He checked his pips, two gold and one black, while his thumb played with the wedding band on his left ring finger. “Just another day at work.” He thought with a small sigh as he exited the spacious quarters. The walk to the turbo lift was uneventful; he passed two pilots at the lift doors opened ushering him in. He felt bad about not going to the funeral, but Alison had a double shift scheduled for the second day of shift, which meant skipping the service was the only way to spend any time together. Work had already been straining their relationship enough, he vowed that they’d spend some quality time together on this leave. The lift put him on deck 14, depositing him among the familiar faces and names of the officers who roamed this area of the ship. He rounded a turn before entering the all too familiar confines of the security office. He was actually glad that he was on foot patrol today, maybe he’d get a chance to run into Alison. Several of the ensigns glanced over to his entrance and quickly began whispering. Mark scowled as he moved to his desk, never being a big fan of ship gossip. Grabbing the daily report off his desk, he glanced up to where Victria sat. Odd that she wasn’t there, as the Captain had confined her to quarters following the discovery of dead pilots. The Lieutenant Commander suppressed a smirk as he turned to Lieutenant Benson. “Geoff...any idea where our little...vampire is today?” Benson raised a brow, he never thought he’d hear the day he heard Garrison say the “V” word. He’d told Geoffrey once in private that he found the tone that most people say it akin to ancient Earth racial slurs. “Uh, I thought Lieutenant Victria was on the planet...with you. Sir.” Mark chuckled more out of surprise then anything. “Uh, I think you mean Ensign Victria. With me? You couldn’t get me within a meter of those fangs. Besides, we got back a few hours ago. Don‘t tell me no ones keeping track of who‘s coming and going.” He quickly scooped up several padds as Ensign Mathews looked up at him with a nervous face. “Uh actually sir, Victria’s a...” “Never mind,” Mark cut him off as he made his way to the door. “Just make sure she stays in her quarters when she’s not on duty. Alison will kill me if she escapes.” And with that he was gone, leaving Geoff and Greg with bewildered looks on their face. Melissa McKay, who was sitting next to Mathews, furrowed her brow. “I didn’t know Lieutenant Garrison was married.” “What are you talking about?” Greg finally muttered. “He was wearing a wedding band, didn’t you see it?” “No.” “He’s not married...” Benson finally put in. “At least, not that I know of.” “Maybe he was married.” Melissa theorized. “Maybe she died, or something. It might be an anniversary or something.” “Maybe...” Greg trailed off as he considered it. “But who was he talking about, Alison? I didn’t know we had anyone named Alison in the security department.” “We don’t” Geoff said, a look of uneasiness setting in. “Maybe someone from a different department but still...something isn’t right. Why did he refer to Victria as an Ensign?” McKay nodded in agreement. “And why was he wearing Lieutenant Commander pips?” “He was?” Melissa looked over at her compatriot and let out a large groan. “Gods Greg, do you pay attention to anything?” Greg leaned back in a defensive manner. “Yeah, to his face. Where weren’t you checking him out?” “Shut up.” Benson scowled while clearing his throat, finally drawing the attention of the two bickering Ensigns. “Quiet you two. Get back to work.” Both of the young ones made moves to rebut but quickly thought better. Geoff, like Mark was a rather informal superior officer, but there was a time for everything. Both of the Ensigns knew when they meant business. He let out a small sigh as he watched them return to their respective reports, his own mind racing. It was just too...odd. The irregularities...and Mark didn’t even seem to notice them. He glanced back at his own pile of papers, thoughts that he was over reacting beginning to set in. No, he’d go talk with him, see what was up. At least to dispel the questions from his mind. “Computer, locate Lieutenant Mark Garrison.”

Hey boss man, you ordered me to search everyone. :lol:

Twelve hours of Halo 3 isn't addiction. It's leveling up.

Victria was seething. She kept her quarters bare for just such occasions. The most damage she could do would be to dent the walls in a few places or rend a pillow or two into bits. There were plenty of weapons about, but no good targets to be had. Thankfully, however, she'd paced off most of her nervous energy during her first rampage through the room and was now leaning on the window frame, staring out into space at the stars flying past. She'd been ignoring the door chimes for five minutes now, but she knew he was still there – still waiting. Beep. He pushed the button again, determined that he was going to stand there and push it until she either left for shift duty, or the heat death of the universe occurred. He could feel her on the other side, more than likely tearing something apart. It was why he hadn't used his security override to enter already – mostly because he was a gentleman, but partly worried about being torn apart himself. So, instead he pushed all other thoughts out of his mind, summoned his best "determined" emotions, and pushed the chime again. Victria hissed under her breath. The chimes had been muted, but she could do nothing about the beating of his heart. The scent of his stubbornness was also maddening. She dug her fingernails into the wall as she again was forced to assert some measure of calm over herself. With a snap of frustration, she growled at the computer to allow him entrance. The doors whooshed open suddenly. He stood at the doorway for a moment, before stepping in enough only to allow it to close. He took in a deep breath, forcing himself to push his battling emotions down. She was pissed, he could see it and feel it, which in turn affected him. If he allowed these emotions to control him, he'd mirror them back on to her. More than likely somehow ending in the destruction of the ship. But he lacked the skills to handle most human relationships, how was he to deal with a pissed Al-Ucardian? Mild Sarcasm? Reassurance? Humor? Nudity? This was exactly why he became a security officer. All you had to do was shoot or say 'yes sir'. He took a few more steps into her sparse living quarters before attempting any sort of communication. "I'm going to take a stab in the dark and assume the 'reanimating the dead pilot' idea wasn't taken too well by Command." "You should not be here," she said to his reflection in the window. "I'm not the best of company at the moment." The total disarray of the room left little imagination to her recent activities, but she felt a warning from her own lips would make him realize that she couldn't always control herself. As much as the Al-Ucard liked to think that they'd risen above their animalistic instincts, the predisposition for emotional intensity had been genetically bred into them and could not always be denied. The line of her back straightened with tension as he moved closer. Her teeth gritted as she realized why he'd sought her out at this particular moment. "If I've pushed this on you, I apologize." He chuckled. "You don't need to apologize," he was now next to her, but staring out into the stars rather than meeting her eye to eye. "I'm sure you've gotten emotions from me that come as an inconvenience," He paused, regarding his choice of words before looking at her. "But if you think I'm going to leave you alone in this state, you don't know me that well." She took another deep breath and released it slowly. "You count on the fact that I will not harm you, but I am not certain I could guarantee that if you ever caught me in a true fit of rage. I maintain control out there only through strength of will. Here, I am alone and have no need to hold back." She closed her eyes for a moment, resting her forehead against the window. "How much do you feel?" "Oh, plenty enough," he trailed off with a sigh. "Let's just say I got off bridge duty just in time." He was watching her closely, trying to see if his slightly aloof approach to this situation was having helping her any. "Still, when it's this intense, it's easy to tell what I'm feeling that's me, and what isn't. Makes rational decisions easier. It's the underlying emotions that are harder to tell who's whom." "They seem intense now because the bond is new, but they grow easier to distinguish and control. You will eventually be able to turn them off completely as though controlling a computer program." "That will be helpful, especially on hazardous missions. What about our range?" "That will increase with time, though it takes years to cultivate and develop any sort of lasting results. If I were to leave for Al-Ucard, time and space would diminish the connection and eventually sever it." "All the more reason for us to spend as much time together as possible," he said with a grin. "If Segami knew, he would be livid. I am certain he would consider it a hazard to our department and this ship. You have seen the latest memo from him, I'm sure. He is already on the prowl for war and feels the need to assert his dominance. Besides that, I have also been formally chastised by Corizon for my part in retrieving the pilot's memories." She wondered how much more furious the captain would be if he discovered this deception. For some reason the thought of making him angry always amused her. Pushing off the window, she turned away and strode across the room, snatching a mostly-intact pillow from the floor. Piece by piece it fell to the carpet. He smirked as he observed the rest of her quarters properly for the first time. He wondered himself if she kept it bare for exactly these reasons. "Segami and Corizon would be the least of my worries. The grapevine on this ship would ruin us." "You would receive a warning on your record, perhaps. I would be imprisoned in the brig and labeled an enemy. I have noticed that some on this ship, even in our own department, would be apt to do that even now for no reason other than my race. Which leaves me to wonder... if I can sense muted hostility without any provocation, what will happen if we are faced with an actual Al-Ucardian attack?" She gritted her teeth again, fighting the rising anger and frustration she felt. The two emotions had been her constant companions ever since she'd first awoken on Excalibur. He sighed, having thought this himself. "They will see the truth." He stared straight into her eyes. "You're an asset to this ship, and anyone who thinks otherwise is an idiot." "Forgive me if I continue to doubt." Hands emptied of the destroyed pillow she picked up a small disc from her desk and toyed with it in her palm. Clutching it carefully she squeezed the trigger release and its three deadly blades sprung forth, barely missing her skin. She'd taken it off one of the bodies of her fellow dead when she'd originally been rescued. "Is that contraband?" He asked in mock surprise, smirking. "An unauthorized weapon? I'm afraid I'm going to have to report you to the Chief, Lieutenant." "I have clearance for it and all other bladed weapons." She snorted. "Undisputable permission." "Don't let Segami hear you say that. He would find a way to dispute it." She sighed as the blades disappeared once more, and she tossed the weapon back onto her desk. "The hardest part is knowing..." her voice lowered significantly. "That the ones that stare at me in anger and fear when they think I cannot see them... they are probably right. I cannot be trusted. It is only a matter of time before I do something drastic. And I will not be able to help myself." Her gaze swung back to him, searching his expression. He smiled at her, and put a hand on her shoulder. "I trust you, and I believe in you. You'll find your balance. I can't begin to imagine how foreign this place and these people are to you, but you'll find your place." He paused, almost for dramatic effect. "There isn't anything I seen that you can't do." Her eyes flitted to the hand on her shoulder then back to his face, though she made no move to shrug off his touch. "If the others have too little faith, then you, perhaps, have too much." But one of the corners of her mouth did twitch in amusement, the majority of the anger and rage draining away slowly. She was still frustrated, but she lived in a perpetual state of frustration. He left his hand there. "Perhaps. But I prefer my way of doing things." He smirked at her in an almost boyish way. "Besides, I'm not about to let my first 'bonding' end in disaster." "It is not my first link, but it is my first real connection to humanity." She stilled under his touch, willing herself to remain frozen. "Thank you for seeking me out, despite the danger. But you may wish to leave now to avoid the disaster of which you speak." Blue irises were slowly being devoured by murky black. His face mirrored confusion as he tried to determine what she meant exactly. Failing that he had to use a more direct approach. "And why's that?" "Because you smell... appetizing." She resisted the impulse to bare her fangs. "We are in the privacy of my quarters and you are not currently inebriated, so I am within my rights as per Atticus, but I doubt you came expecting to be my next meal." "Don't I have to be a willing participant?" "He never specified that," she said, a slow smile appearing. He smirked in a small manner and removed his hand, careful not to make it look like a reeling gesture. "I suppose nothing beats fresh, eh?" "No." He was quickly getting the picture. He just smiled as he walked by her to the door, his hand brushing her arm once more before he came to a stop in the open doorway and looked back. "Just behave now. I have enough paperwork as it is." "I'm not making any promises," she replied, her smile now slightly more feral than friendly.

First Contact is about to go very wrong.

Sorry to all for missing tonight, I believed to have figured out my net problem, which I obviously did not. As a result I'll be getting my own internet and should be present for next week.

::Considers who of He, Victria, or Laarell would be easiest to throw out an airlock::

::headdesk::

::begins what is sure to be mountain of paper work involving The Green One and the Vampire...again::

Much to the suprise of the American bus driver, Canadian ships in fact do not have rear escape hatch.

“Rally the Troops” “Deck 14.” The turbo lift hummed to life, whisking Mark away from the bridge towards the security offices. While he had approximately an hour to prepare security as necessary for this incoming ship, more then enough time, but still prudence was a virtue…he guessed. The lift passed deck five as he tapped his commbadge. “Lieutenant Garrison to security.” A second passed before a familiar voice crackled through his badge. “This is ensign Mathews. Go ahead sir.” Greg Mathews was a young ensign, an unfortunate graduate who did well enough in the academy to be deemed worthy for a mission/quest as ridiculous as this. He was a bright kid, if a little clumsy. He’d go far in the fleet if he kept up his performance. “Greg, I need you to call all of the shift division leaders to the security office for a briefing. We have something of a situation developing. But don’t mention anything; we don’t need to start a panic.” Another moment passed before Mathews chipped through again, sounding a bit nervous. “Understood sir, I’ll have everyone here in fifteen minutes.” “Good, I’ll be there shortly myself. Garrison out.” Sixteen minutes later... Lieutenant Junior Grade Rand tried to sneak in, unsuccessfully Mark would add, a minute late, finishing the line up of Alpha shifts division leaders. These were the best men and women in the Excalibur’s security department, and Mark was notably more optimistic that their first potential hostile action on this quest would be handled by the people in this room. As Rand situated herself Mark stood, taking a sip of his coffee before clearing his throat. “Alright people, settle down, settle. I mean you Benson, no more coffee.” Lieutenant Benson, whom Mark outranked by only few more months as service as a full Lieutenant gave Garrison a smirk and a hand gesture known only to humans with dirty minds. Mark waved him off as he returned his attention to the rest of the officers in the room. “Alright people, I called you all here for this mysterious situation that no doubt Mathews told you all about, even though I asked him not to.” The majority of the room looked from Mathews to Garrison, giving him an acknowledged nod of defeat, while Greg did his best to hide in the corner. Mark let a small smile show as he grabbed a padd on his desk, reviewing the data. “Alright, given that you’re my best and brightest, I’m going to assume that you all at least managed to read my memo about the unknown planet the Excalibur is currently traveling to. Roughly thirty minutes ago, the Excalibur launched a probe into the system to determine if the planet was populated, and if so its level of development. Not to long ago, that probe was…destroyed by what we now know to be a ship in the area.” There were a few hushed whispers and eye glances around the room before Benson spoke up. “What do we know of the ship? And the planet?” Mark smiled internally. This was why Geoffrey Benson was his go to man in Alpha shift. He was smart, sly, and knew what the best questions were. “The ship we know little about to be honest, other then that it has the capability to detect and destroy our probes, and that it has the ability to communicate on our frequencies, but that could mean it’s anything between a single shot freighter, or a dominion dreadnaught. “As for the planet in question, it is moderately developed. Pre-warp, circa Earth 2008 thanks to Commander Teykier’s overly specific scientific abilities. Given the lack of present star flight technologies on the planet, we can’t determine if the inhabitants are an indigenous species, and that the ship is not related, or that it’s a colony world and the ship is its protection.” “What if it’s an indigenous species and the ship in question has taken it upon itself to protect them?” Lieutenant Rand barely managed to squeak out, whether from her well known shyness, or embarrassment at showing up late Mark couldn’t tell. “At this point, the planet isn’t our major concern. It’s the intentions this ship that we have to worry about. If they are indeed protecting the planet for some reason, we have to be prepared that they may view our wish to investigate the planet with hostility, which is why you’re all here.” He had his random crewman lackey hand out padds to the division leaders with deployment orders and such. “In approximately…oh…thirty five to forty minutes this unknown ship will be here, to discuss matters with Captain Corizon and Commander JoN’s. Given the state of unknowns here, the ship is currently running at silent yellow alert, with the shields raised. You all know what to do, and normally Commander Segami would be giving these orders, more then likely on the fly but seeing as how he isn’t available I thought we’d have a nice briefing just to smooth out any confusions. That…and this is the first time the new security department will have to prove itself; I’d prefer us not to make any ridiculous mistakes.” Benson, who took a swig of coffee just to rub it in Garrison’s face, spoke again. “Alright…What about the Marines, and Fighters?” “As of right now I don’t have any information available. However, I doubt the Marines and Fighters will get involved unless this becomes a shooting match anyway. For now, our primary goal is tightening security in and around the engineering decks…just in case. Any other questions?” “Yes…” Benson trailed off. “I can’t help but see that you’re not on this deployment sheet. Going to let the grunts fight in the trenches this time?” Mark smirked. “No, I’ll be in charge of the main entrance to Engineering, and the outlying sections with Lieutenant Victria…if I can find her. More then likely the Command Staff will want Segami up on the bridge handling Tactical, a job I’m more then happy to give to him.” There was a series of chuckles throughout the room. No one liked being stuck on the bridge for hours on end with the level of insanity that held this ship together. Mark finished his coffee, setting it down with a thud on his desk. “Any other questions? No? Good, move out.”

"Blood Pact, Part II" She left the lift behind as she headed down the corridor, her pace somewhat decreased now that they were in the confines of the ship. "Where are we going? What is your first area of concern?" He produced a padd and handed it to her, several corridors on deck 14 were highlighted. "These are areas I suspect would most likely be used by enemy forces to gain access to access to Main Engineering, but again, I'm using a human point of view for this. Any thoughts on how you'd get down here, and how you'd bypass security would be helpful." "The crawl spaces are always a good option, especially if one has the entire layout of the ship. They can be utilized without drawing attention." She studied the padd as they walked. "Beaming into points here, here, and here," she pointed out on the diagram. "Would produce immediate results in shutting down or rerouting all of the ship's power into that area." He nodded as the roamed the halls. He held back an approved sigh, some of those areas had passed his mind as well, which meant he couldn't be completely off. "Alright, lets through caution to the wind then. What route would you take if you didn't have the option of a stealth approach?" She gave the layout another long look and finally traced her chosen route for him to see, pointing out the actual areas of the ship as they passed them. "The least path of resistance lies here. A small party could infiltrate to a significant degree before they could be stopped. A party of one would fare worse if stealth could not be achieved." She pondered for a moment. "You could always run a holographic program of the area to capture different scenarios." He nodded again, the programs already half written. "I plan to. Thank you, your help has been invaluable." He trailed off, not sure if he had anything to ask her, or if he even wanted to leave yet. Holding the data padd for him to take, she paused and continued to stare at him. After several moments of silence, she finally spoke up. "I cannot read minds, but I do know that you hold some sort of tension. There is something you wish to know? Just ask me." He looked down at the padd, and grabbed it, having forgotten it until now. "It's... well... I'm not sure to be honest. You've been so forthcoming, but you haven't inquired into my life at all. I can't help but feel I'm just probing you for information." "Most humans find inquiries into their personal life too invasive coming from one such as me, especially given the small amount of time we have known one another." She smiled slightly. "I am not so bound by many of your taboos. If you wish to tell me of yourself, I would be interested to learn." He smiled as he watched her eyes. "The first thing you should know is that I don't throw myself into the vast lump that is the Human race. I doubt there is much you could ask or do that could offend me; I make it a point in life to be open minded. As to my life story... I wouldn't know where to begin or what would be interesting. Maybe you should just ask." "Perhaps I shall think on it and make a list of what would be most strategically sound." Her gaze shifted to the others in the corridor as they continued to travel through the deck, slowly making their way to one of the other turbo lifts. "I have little practice at it." He held back a smirk as they reached the turbo lift. "You know, this isn't a battle. It's a conversation. Just ask me something. There aren't any rights or wrongs here." He paused as a thought passed through his mind. "I know a lot of races that don't hold small talk in as high accord as Humans, and usually I don't either, but don't let that hold you back." She considered him for a few moments as the doors closed and the lift lingered, awaiting command. "Perhaps I would ask as to the reason why you decided on a career in ship security." He had no idea where to go, and ignored the fact they were now standing in a lift alone. He smirked as he thought the question over before finally turning to face her. "I suppose it would have to be because I'm not good at anything else. My parents were both in Starfleet; I was born and raised on a ship like this. It's basically the only life I know. But... I neither had the practical intelligence or the patience for any of the other fields. Science, maybe, but it's more of a passing hobby. So, being a solider was the only option left if I wanted to get out here." "It is good that you were not content. Contentment breeds complacency and blind obedience. It is the reason why my people are now struggling to be free." She fell silent as she considered her next question. Her capacity for emotion was slowly beginning to expand as she allowed herself to wonder how these humans felt. "And you have no clan on the ship? No family?" His thoughts passed over his mother, dead. His father, stricken with a mental disorder. His sister, too apathetic to care. His brother, too young to have his family's situation pushed on him. But he pushed those thoughts out, determined to be open with her. "No, not on the ship. My mother... she died about a year ago. My father is retired from Starfleet, and lives on Earth. And my sister... we, uh don't talk that much anyway." She nodded, still watching him carefully, tasting each emotion. "I believe that having a clan is an important part of life. It is difficult without one because you have no support. Do you believe that the crew on this ship have taken the place of your family? Many feel this way, from what I've been told." He considered the query as the computer asked for their destination again. "Possibly. I wouldn't know to be sure though. I've only been here a short while, and I've only met a few of the crew. I guess time can only tell. What of your... clan? Do they live on Al-Ucard?" "Yes, but I know not how many of them still exist. The first Scorpiad barrage threw our kind at the Federation until most of our ships were destroyed. My clan is one of Hunters and most, if not all, of us were recruited to serve on those ships. I hope to return to Al-Ucard to discover what has become of them." She said this without changing her expression, superbly trained to repress them in the company of others. He watched her speak about her family, and their possible death without emotion, while he struggled to contain his own. But, if that was how she was he wasn't about to question it. "Well, for what it's worth I hope they survived. And... if not, that they are someplace they can hunt eternally." "There is no eternal Hunt. We simply cease to exist. Perhaps we return to the world of which we were born." She shrugged. "It is not important." Her eyes traveled upward to where the lift voice emanated that was still requesting their destination. Evidently no one else had called this particular lift for service. "Are we traveling somewhere? Or do you wish to learn more about my people and their customs?" Her voice lowered, the blue of her eyes seeming to intensify as she focused on him once more. The space between them shortened. He locked into her eyes, unconsciously noticing her closer to him, but not taking any steps to change that. Odd, that she'd have an atheo-agnostic view of the universe. He'd never heard of a culture of Hunters that didn't have some sort of God or the like that aided them in the hunt. He paused, losing his train of thought for a moment before replying. "Right now, there's nothing I'd rather do more then learn more about you." "Then perhaps we will start with the pact you made earlier. We do not take such things lightly." She slowly reached for his arm and pulled him to her. Her eyes remained locked on his as she lifted his wrist to her mouth. "Together in the Hunt, Mark of the Garrison," she said softly, lips barely brushing his skin. And then she bit down, savoring her first taste. He was startled slightly at her movement, and winced for a second at the bite. This wasn't exactly what he envisioned, but at this point he had thrown out any hopes for normality on this ship out the airlock.

"Blood Pact, Part I" Mark paused for a moment, not sure if it was the right gesture, but he held out his hand regardless. "Well, when that day comes, I'd be proud to fight along side you." She peered at his hand, still a little perplexed by the greeting and the meaning behind it. Nevertheless, she did what was expected and shook his hand, her grip surprisingly strong for one of her stature. "Normally there would be a drawing and exchange of blood for promises such at this." He smirked as he squeezed his hand a little harder, honestly surprised by the strength of her grip. "Well, if that's how the Al-Ucard do it, then by all means. I'm not one to deny alien culture or tradition." She wore an amused expression as she released his hand. "Perhaps later I shall formally educate you on the ways of my people, but I do not think this is the place or time." He suppressed a laugh as he looked around the Promenade, watching the random faces shuffle by he and the junior Lieutenant. "I'm inclined to agree. Would you care for a walk? I believe there is something you might be able to help me with." She nodded her assent and walked beside him as they moved away from the railing. "The views of the station leave something to be desired. I was planning on returning to the ship anyhow. What is it that you need?" "Well..." He paused to sidestep a Klingon who was taking up a surprisingly large portion of the walkway. "As convenience would have it, what I have planned is on the ship. Those surveys I told you about, I've basically been formulating plans to deal with any potential hostile boarders. I think your opinion might be the most important of all." "An interesting concept." She nodded slightly as they walked, ignoring glances from those they passed as she bared her fangs in a half-snarl. "An invader could do much damage if they boarded in certain areas that are difficult to defend or full of crewmen ill equipped to fight." His eyes drifted to her fangs for a second. He couldn't help but be intrigued by them, but quickly set his eyes straight forward, figuring it wasn't proper social etiquette. "Exactly. I'm mostly worried about the Engineering sections of the ship. I've been trained for this sort of thing, but I have very little tactical information to back me up. Besides yourself, and the Jem'Hadar I encountered in the war, I have no knowledge of Gamma Quadrant species." "I could be of some assistance there." Her ice-blue gazed turned to regard him as they left the promenade for the corridor that led to the docking ring. "I've Hunted them all and have intimate knowledge of their battle tactics, how they move, and how they think. Many years of experience." And much information transmitted to her by those she had captured and drained. "Interesting." He led her into the docking ring, his attention drawn to the vast windows and the empty black that lay beyond them. "What do you mean by... hunting? I've fought a lot of battles in my time, but I didn't exactly consider any of it hunting." She chuckled, a low and sultry tone. "Hunting as in for food or sport. For entertainment or survival of my species. Or simply because the Scorpiad wished a particular planet eradicated without having to trouble themselves. There are always those that would be prey." There was a sense of longing in her voice, almost a yearning for those times. She ignored the windows as they passed, her attention drawn to the people in the area. His eyes shot back to her, but with enough control to pass as nothing. "Is the hunt... an instinctual thing? Something you're born with?" They reached the airlock; he paused to allow her through, all gentlemen like. "Something that was implanted into us genetically." She stepped through the airlock and onto the ship without breaking stride or pausing. "I suppose it could be removed, but I doubt there is a single Al-Ucard that would allow it. It is part of us now. We need it to survive." He jogged through the lock to catch up to her, the almost emptiness of the ship somewhat bothersome from the previously packed station. "It must be maddening, to be here on the ship, unable to hunt. I wouldn't say this to any of the Starfleet psych examiners, but part of the reason I came out here was in the hope of some action... to have some sort of... an adventure, or something." "Yes." She smiled slightly as she glanced sidelong at him. "I can empathize with that. The ship keeps me busy much of the time and I have little need to Hunt, but there are times... during the lulls of travel... that the closeness of everything is almost overwhelming. But the holo-programs do help somewhat." He nodded as they turned into a turbo lift. "Deck 14." Suddenly silence filled the tiny lift as he found himself unable to think of anything useful to say. He let out a small scowl of frustration. Victria seemed unphased by the lack of small talk. Standing next to him, she watched him as they traveled, uncaring that humans considered staring rude. His scent filled the small space and she smiled in amusement as she caught the tone of his underlying emotions. He felt her eyes boring into him, but didn't do anything; he'd had much less attractive things stare him down in the past. The lift doors slid open, depositing them on Deck 14, not far away from main engineering. "Well...we're here."

Carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero

"In Case of Alien Incursion" Deck Five, Section 25, near Jefferies hatch 11 Mark crouched over, examining the small entry into the ships Jefferies network. He slid his hand against the metal, comparing his notes. This one would have to be reinforced as well. The Lieutenant stood and turned a corner, heading to his next destination, Jefferies hatch 12. Four and a half decks of complete survey and coverage including counter boarding plans weren't bad for the two weeks he'd already been on the ship. Starfleet of course had its own plans and methods for defending against hostile boarder, but from what Mark had seen in his time with the Fleet, these plans were often inefficient and wasted valuable man power. Hence, Mark had spent every moment that wasn't filled by sleeping and shift duty to walking the ship, learning its finer nuances, and figuring out how to defend them. He walked past his quarters as he reached hatch 12, examining it for a second before writing something down in his notes. Deck 5 hadn't raised any flags yet, mainly because there was little of vital importance on this level besides secondary Cargo Bays. Decks 6 through 9 would be a different story however. The primary computer core took up those three decks, along with the primary cargo bay and stellar cartography. These three decks had already been labeled primary targets and would have to be treated as such when he made his rounds. Even more important however were decks 14 through 16 and deck 18 as well. Decks 14 through 16 held engineering in all its glory, and destructive capabilities. Within were contained all three levels of engineering, all of the ships fusion reactors, all her armories excluding the marines, deflector and tractor control, environmental control and the secondary computer core. There was little that couldn't be used there to control or destroy the entire ship. Deck 18 also contained secondary environmental controls along with deuterium and anti matter storage, which was always useful if you wanted to put a large dent in the ship, to put it lightly. He rounded another corner to find two engineers debating about the handling of some technical issue. A perfect opportunity for the second phaser of his research. "No Dawkins, I'm telling you it can't be the gel packs, there's no way they could do something like this." Mark slid up besides the two, with his command face on. "Ensigns." The both of them, a Human and an Andorian both snapped out of their two person universe. Ensign Dawkins, the Human was quicker to react however. "Lieutenant, what can we do for you?" Mark suppressed a smirk as he put on his best face of embarrassment and confusion. "Well. This is a little difficult to admit, but…I'm lost. I'm trying to get to main engineering; I have a few papers to deliver to Commander Admiran." He quickly gestured his notes. "I've only been here a little while and I have to admit I'm not familiar with the Akira Class…" For being such young officers they held their faces well. Mark had observed that a large majority of engineers considered themselves Lord and Master of their ships, regardless of rank or position. They knew where everything was, how it worked, and how to put it back together. A full Lieutenant asking for directions probably made their day. Dawkins spoke up first. "Well the easiest way would be to use the main turbo lift, which is back that 'a ways." He gestured behind his shoulder with this thumb. Before Mark could say anything the Andorian officer spoke up. "No no, that won't work at all; he'll spend at least ten minutes waiting for a lift this time of day. Sir, what you'll want to do is head down this corridor, there's a secondary lift access there. Take that to deck 10 where it ends. Then head over to section 12, there's another lift there that can take you down to deck 15 where main engineering is located. Commander Admiran should be there." Garrison nodded. "Alright, I should be able to manage that. Thank you Ensigns, as you were." He walked down the hall the Andorian had instructed him to until he was out of eye sight, and began to jot in his notes. This was the second part of his research, alternate routes through the ship. While the main turbo lift was the most direct way to anything on the ship, it was also the least convenient because everyone in their right mind used it. Everyone with half a mind developed their own ways of getting where they needed without waiting a lifetime for a lift like the Andorian had said. So every once in a while he would stop and ask random crewmen their opinions on how to reach key areas in the ship from where they were. It would help him form routes of defense, and what path intruders might take to avoid detection. He had to admit, it was slightly amusing as well. As far as those unsuspecting crew were concerned he owed all the department heads a plethora of status reports and other odd papers, Medical might think he was walking around with three broken bones and a hang nail, but none of that topped science. Commander Teykier was probably still waiting for his report on a class II comet the Excalibur had passed two days ago. The young science officer had given him very good directions, and had even said he'd tell the Commander to expect Garrison a little late. The young man had obviously either ignored or didn't notice that Mark was, in fact a security officer. He chuckled as he made another turn, instead deciding to head to the officers lounge for a small meal before bed. Heck, maybe there was someone there he could convince he was the Captain, fangs and all. And if he was really lucky he could find an excellent route to the waste management systems.