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Cmdr Ba'alyo

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  1. Added some Fair Use images of characters mentioned in the log.
  2. The following log is set before the conclusion of the 12/05/10 sim and prior to the log "Conversations"... The turbolift doors opened and Captain John C. Harriman stepped into the bright colors of the Enterprise-B bridge. Well within Federation space, their mapping and exploration mission was only a few months old, but as the flagship, it wouldn't have surprised him to have the ship suddenly diverted to some border incursion or other flashpoint. The Admiralty seemed to think having Enterprise arrive on the scene was a way of showing Federation resolve. But this particular summons to the bridge hadn't come from new orders. "What've you got for me, Vasquez?" he asked his chief science officer. As usual, her wavy red hair was pulled back in a loose regulation ponytail. "The system we're approaching, sir," she began, "it's one of the inhabited class-M worlds that's never been visited." Harriman nodded. He knew it shouldn't have been surprising how many systems near the Federation core – while charted remotely or by visiting probe – had never been touched by manned exploration. With 400 billion stars in the galaxy, that meant there were millions of systems just a thousand light-year radius from Earth. If only a fraction could sustain life, that left thousands of candidates close to home. This sector, well below the galactic plane, had seen it's share of planned missions, but some nearby crisis – Tholian incursion, Nomad probe, interstellar amoeba – had always drawn Starfleet's attention elsewhere. Many of the worlds Enterprise had surveyed in the last few weeks bore merely an alphanumeric catalog designation. The one they approached was simply UFP-2861BZ, which they'd been calling by the unoriginal moniker 'Beta Zed' in their briefings. "Go on," he prompted the lieutenant, checking the fastening of the white shoulder strap to the front flap of his burgundy uniform. "Our latest scans still show a thriving civilization on the third planet," Vasquez continued, "but we detected this unexpected reading above it." She keyed a sequence and magnified it on the display above her. Harriman took a moment to study the waveform. "A subspace field," he concluded. The last long-range probe, sent three years earlier, had suggested this was a tranquil, advancing race that had broken the warp barrier, but they had never left the confines of their system. "Is that surprising?" "Not at first," the chief science officer admitted, "but the magnitude was greater than expected, an object at Warp 4 headed outward." Harriman smiled. "Are they finally headed out to explore the galaxy?" he asked, amazed at the coincidence. Such a breakthrough could open doors for the kind of first contact mission both he and Starfleet wanted. "Where are they going?" Vasquez shook her head. "That's the interesting thing, captain," she revealed. She looked toward the helm expectantly. Harriman turned that way, as well, meeting the gaze of his helmsman, junior lieutenant Demora Sulu. "We projected a warp trail," she advised. "Sir, it's coming directly toward us." * * * * * The small warp-capable ship had approached, taking about an hour to reach their position outside the system before slowing to sublight. Sensors showed they carried tele-visual communication, capable of responding to hails. "This is Captain John C. Harriman of the starship Enterprise," he greeted, standing in front of the center chair. "On behalf of the United Federation of Planets, I extend an offer of peace and friendship." The image onscreen was an auburn haired, regal-looking woman who looked human from all visible evidence. The only notable difference was her unusually dark eyes, looking as if the irises themselves were black. "Thank you, captain," she smiled warmly. "I am Latani Grax, Outworld Minister and daughter of the Fourth House. I welcome you on behalf of..." she paused briefly, "...the inhabitants of Betazed." The captain blinked momentarily at the use of their own designation and glanced toward Commander Tobiason, manning the communications station. Tobiason showed amazement, briefly muting the conversation. "The translator didn't render that," he reported. "We're hearing her actual words, in our own language." The woman spoke again, drawing Harriman's attention back to the screen. "Our people have been aware of your existence for a short time," Minister Grax explained without prompting. "Since then, we have been preparing how best to receive you." Harriman smiled, wondering how this knowledge had come to them. "I must confess we're surprised to meet you out here like this," he admitted, "but it was the hope of our journey to make contact with your people." Grax nodded. "Improvements in our faster-than-light capability are a recent development," she offered. "We sensed your approach at some distance. It was decided that, when the time came for us to meet, it would be safer to meet here in the depths of space." "Safer?" Harriman allowed himself the one-word question, warily, while wondering what sensors had detected their approach from so far out. These people appeared peaceful, as the probes suggested, and their little warpship was unarmed. He hoped it was not the size and armament of Enterprise that concerned them. The woman onscreen seemed ready for the question. "We are what your species would call 'telepaths'," she said frankly. "It seemed wisdom to warn you of this before your ship entered our system. My people recognize you as explorers who mean us no harm, but yours may be uncomfortable with our openness and what they may consider intrusion into your thoughts." Harriman blinked at the admission, falling to silence. Slow realization came upon him of the implications. Of course, he realized, they must have plucked the name for their planet from his mind. And they'd done it across a comm channel? Had they detected Enterprise's arrival from its thoughts? Was this how they were able to speak the language? Was she hearing him now? "You have many such questions," Latina offered, confirming his fears while trying to calm them. "We welcome the chance to meet with you here, at this safe distance, to begin this process of 'first contact' and answer your questions. We invite you to come to our ship and hope to visit yours." Harriman felt a surge of excitement and trepidation. This was the kind of risk Kirk had meant, he considered, that came with sitting in the chair behind him. "We look forward to meeting you in person and learning more. I'm told your world is a garden paradise; I hope we can visit it." Minister Grax nodded. "We invite you to send probes to study our world as we talk; we are an open society with no secrets to hide," she welcomed. "But we have one request: we ask that you delay any visit our world," she paused, gazing back with those dark eyes, "until you can invite those from the starship Challenger to join us."
  3. While deep Trek knowledge isn't essential, you'll be amazed at how much you can pick up over the course of simming. Sometimes, if a particular plotline delves into Trek lore, the hosts will prompt the crew by suggesting they look at a particular episode, movie, or Memory Alpha subjects. And some positions just don't need require as much history or technobabble. One can survive as a happy-go-lucky security officer with little more knowledge than which end of the phaser to point where ... and which end to avoid. If the scope of the later Trek canon looms too large, you can always consider STSF Advanced Sims set it the TOS era. Hood is classic TOS, Challenger is late TOS movies, and Commanche Creek is New TOS (Abramsverse). You can always ease into later eras over time.
  4. Season Two narrative has been posted, with the above entry revised.
  5. Attached is an edited compilation of player and guest logs, providing a narrative of Challenger history over its multi-year mission. Season One: 2294 (Attached [pages 1-48]) Covering the construction and launch of the USS Challenger, its lengthy mission arc to Qo'noS (including convoy attacks, relief efforts, coup attempts, and the Battle of the Azure Nebula), and the outbreak of plasma plague on Obi VI. Season Two: 2295 (Attached [pages 49-120]) Detailing a Romulan encounter in the Lantaru Sector (region of "subspace death"), conclusion of the Organian Treaty, avoidance of war in Elasian-Troyian space, shore leave on Pacifica, and the rescue of an unknown species of telepaths from tentacled menaces. Season Three: 2296 (Current Year, In Production) Includes a lengthy diplomatic mission to Magna Roma, rescue of a freighter from Orion privateers, recovery from an amnesia-inducing minefield, and the exploration of several worlds (magnestar system, jungle ruins, and swarm-infested ice planet) during the search for an Orion pirate base. Attachments are in MSWord format. USS_Challenger_Logs_2294.doc USS_Challenger_Logs_2295.doc
  6. The orb was a multi-colored palate of pinks and yellows and greens, with even its large bodies of water covered by interwoven layers of fungus and seaweed. Warmed by its cool blue star and the radiant heat of the gas giant it orbited, the fertile moon had once been the cradle of an unrecorded, but intelligent, species. Now it hosted only abundant plant and animal life. The native sentients had once spread across the surface, taming the wilderness, clearing agricultural spans, and erecting cities of concrete, metal, and glass. They had reached sufficient levels of technology to harness the atom, loft objects to circle their world, and begin their first chemical driven foreys into nearby space. And then they were gone. The cause -- like much about their existence -- was still unknown. It was no ancient cataclysm that had ended their dominance of the globe. Only 600 years had passed since the last of their kind stood on the surface. Although their rise and passage was a mere blip in the geologic history, the ravages of time had not yet erased their trace. Native flora, unchecked, had advanced into the remnants of civilization, breaking up streets and sending down roots that drove apart structures. Metal reinforcement bars, expanding with hundreds of years of oxidation, crumbled the concrete they were meant to strengthen. Humid air and unforgiving sunlight pitted surfaces, fractured sealants, and eroded joints. Aggressive molds had rotted wood and consumed softer building materials. The tallest structures had collapsed over the first centuries, their metal frameworks yielding to corrosion and the relentless force of gravity. Only massive stone and concrete buildings retained a semblance of their shape and function. Wind-blown seeds and spores had turned these into multi-level, wondrous hanging gardens. The streets between were debris-filled canyons. Power systems had failed more than a half-millenia ago, with the rare exception of hydroelectric or solar-generated sources. The landing party sent by the starship Columbia -- five humans commanded by a Rigellian Chelon -- had pushed their way through the dense plant life into one of the fallen cities. Their designation for the place was Felfeyra IIIB, although this was far different than the name its inhabitants had given it. Avoiding a large carnivorous plant on the outskirts, the team had emerged into a landscape of gridlike canyons strewn with crumbling cement. Piles of rubble flanked them, with spires of corroded metal and masonry towering in the distance. Seeking the subterranean source of sporadic subspace noise, the team had descended into the fallen interior of a former underground transportation network. They'd unknowingly passed the remnants of an urban solar power network, it’s triple-junctioned gallium arsenide arrays topping stainless steel poles. Dimmed by dirt and film corrosion, they nevertheless continued to produce a faint electric potential, sufficient to power fading LEDs and charge transtator capacitors. Descending into the basement corridors of what had once been a formidable building, they found the gilded, ornate lobby of a laboratory complex. An open shaft, its lift car smashed at the bottom, offered access all the way up to the street level, allowing sudden downdrafts of outside air to mix with humidity from the flooded lower levels. The source of the subspace signals that had summoned them remained a mystery, somewhere within the decaying remnants of a culture, whose nature and disappearance lay under its own moldering shroud.
  7. In addition to the above promotions, the following commendations were issued for the two most recent Challenger missions: MAGNA ROMA Lieutenant (j.g.) Josephine Lessard is hereby commended for proficient service and repeated excellence in her analysis of Magna Roma history to successfully identify points of cultural divergence, supporting diplomatic and first contact objectives, and leading an extraction team to recover an officer captured by the native populace. Lieutenant (j.g.) Quintin M'Guire is hereby commended for proficient service in support of diplomatic and first contact objectives with the Magna Roma government. Lieutenant Anastasia Poldara is hereby commended for repeated excellence in challenging the widely-held presumption of Hodgkin's Law of Parallel Development in Magna Roma cultural evolution, for determining the origins of emerging subspace technologies, and isolating sources of cultural contamination. Lieutenant Savros is hereby commended for excellence in leading an archeological study of cites on Magna Roma, helping to determine cultural dating and points of cultural divergence. ORION PIRATE ATTACK (and Amnesia Recovery) For injuries sustained aboard the starship Challenger during boarding action by Orion privateers, Lieutenant H.G. Reed is hereby awarded the Crimson Shield. Lieutenant H.G. Reed is hereby commended for proficient service and meritourous action in outfitting a damaged freighter to successfully lure and engage Orion privateers, working outside the duties of her department in recovering critical power and life support systems after a disabling attack on the USS Challenger, and repelling a boarding attempt by Orion forces. Lieutenant (j.g.) Quintin M'Guire is hereby commended for proficient service for his actions in outfitting a damaged freighter to successfully lure and engage Orion privateers. Lieutenant Anastasia Poldara is hereby commended for proficient service and valor for restoring computer control after a disabling attack on the USS Challenger and in acting beyond the duties of her department in repelling a boarding attempt by Orion forces. Major Kimiko Johnson is hereby commended for proficient service in repelling a boarding attempt by hostile Orion privateers. Lieutenant (j.g.) Edward Freeman is hereby commended for excellence in restoring critical power systems and secondary computer control after a disabling attack on the USS Challenger. NOTE: This list does not include commendations or awards associated with NPCs or command officers.
  8. The following crew members have been promoted: 22 August, 2010: H.G. Reed has been promoted from Lieutenant Junior Grade to full Lieutenant Dr. Natalie Harris has been promoted from Lieutenant Junior Grade to full Lieutenant Congratulations to you both and many thanks for your contributions to the sim. We hope to continue benefiting from your expertise for many sims to come!
  9. The following log takes place in the period before the crew woke up disoriented and suffering from amnesia. As the crew begins to recover, some of these events may be remembered... The starship Challenger loomed beside the subdued Orion ship. It had been several hours since they'd overtaken the pirates. Surprised by Challenger's trap, the Orions had broken off their attack on the Efrosian freighter and tried to escape. Although they had fled toward the asteroid remains of a burned-out dwarf system, their speed and shielding were no match for the arsenal of an Excelsior-class starship. Battered down, their engines overheated, they'd been tractored to a stop and boarded by the Marines. After a brief firefight, they had finally surrendered. It had seemed almost anticlimactic. But it was satisfying, Seiben admitted. These pirates had managed to best them previously by avoiding a straight-out fight. In their first encounter, the Orions had escaped by delaying them to save the crew of the USS Taurus. Later, they had forced Challenger to break off pursuit by threatening the civilians they'd captured. Once Major Johnson had confirmed the ship was secure, she'd left her Marines in charge and returned to process the first group of Orion prisoners. Commander Ba'alyo had gone over to the captured ship with security and engineering teams to prepare the prize ship for a return trip to Starbase 15. Over protest, Kimiko had stayed behind to follow Dr. Juno's order to report to sickbay for observation of a minor head injury. Both ships - Teykier's Bounty and Challenger - held position over the next few hours, while material and personnel transported between them. Overseen by Lieutenant Savros, the stolen dilithium went into cargo holds. The liberated hostages were given guest quarters on Deck 3. The captured Orions were processed and brought aboard in small groups, destined for incarceration or eventual repatriation. Captain Seiben stood up from the center seat, finally feeling the fatigue set in. Now that the adrenaline of the chase had worn off, his body felt the hours he'd been on the bridge. The alpha shift had pulled double duty, waiting to spring the trap. During the lull, the night shift had finally relieved them. Poldara, Reed, and M'Guire were already off duty, no doubt in leisure pursuits. Relief officers sat at most of the bridge positions. Even now, Lessard was relinquishing her seat at communications, heading aft to the conference room to compose an after-action report. Now it was his turn. Seiben offered a data slate to the duty officer. Silent and efficient, Mr. Leslie nodded, waiting for the captain to step aside before taking the center seat. Now, he mused, he only had to contend with the Magna Roman "ambassador" who shared his quarters. * * * * * It was a testament to its designers that, after centuries of silent waiting, the gravitic mines still worked. Sentinal signposts of the ancient war that had cleansed this system, the neighboring units had been awakened by the subspace disturbance of objects penetrating their protective zone. Attracted by the EM fields and masses of two ships, they stealthily closed from different directions. Designed to disable enemy ships for capture, the first drew itself within 200 meters of the disc-like portion of the larger intruder. It detonated as programmed, unleashing explosive shrapnel and its primary weapon: the bio-transducer pulse. Asynchronous bio-electric waves blossomed out in an arc toward the target, disabling computers and biological systems alike, weakening them for later acquisition. The pulse jolted those in the saucer section, jarring them into unconsciousness as it wiped their short-term memory. * * * * * Alerts went off in the control center of Teykier's Bounty. Imagining dangers like failing systems or Orion booby-traps, Ba'alyo whirled toward the Andorian beside him. "What's going on, Idrani?" The Marine sergeant looked at the unfamiliar displays, taking time to adjust. "Some kind of explosion, sir," she replied. "I've lost our signal from the ship, and the tractor beam has cut out." "Can we raise Challenger?" the exec demanded. The Andorian shook her head. "No response." "Secure any prisoners we still have aboard, then see if we can get these sensors to tell us what happened," the Efrosian ordered, bolting toward the corridor. "I'll get down to the transporter room and beam over with security." * * * * * The second mine reached them moments later, exploding between the Orion and Federation ships. It peppered the underside of the saucer and the connecting neck as its pulse knocked out systems and any of those remaining conscious. Drifting, their crews disabled, both ships lay waiting to be seized by forces that would no longer be coming. But the minefield didn't know that. It knew only its mission to protect the long-dead system within by keeping intruders here, dazed and trapped in amber - forever, if necessary. A mission other mines lay waiting to assume.
  10. Things were starting to come together. Although the vessel called Challenger had been rattled, its crew dazed or unconscious, most of the damage was being overcome. The ship's power generators were functioning, although still being run at low levels out of caution. Impulse engines were at 30%, with warp power operating at a minimal 15% capability. There seemed to be enough power to run the ship; all of the subsystems looked workable. Emergency force fields were in place on several decks, where the external hull had been torn open by external explosion. With the computer up and running again, those few who were awake had learned their names and positions, even if they seemed unfamiliar. They'd made contact with the unknown ship that was following them. Instead of enemies, they'd found other people dressed in the same uniform, similarly disoriented and wondering what was going on. But it was starting to come back to them. * * * * * On Deck 10, Lieutenant Commander Ryan Leslie slammed shut an access door, sealing a bound and unconscious Orion inside the horizontal alcove labeled "Emergency Shelter". He'd been surprised to find the panels in these oddly-angled corridors concealed all sorts of goodies - temporary pressure suits, engineering tools, fire extinguishers, medical supply kits, and even disaster survival compartments. He and Lieutenant (j.g.) Hannah Reed had hefted their prisoner into one of these. Leslie wasn't worried about the Orion's comfort, since he'd obviously killed at least one Marine and stunned the other two women they'd been working with - Kimiko and Ana. He was surprised it had taken so many of them to overcome the muscle-bound brute, but pleased to find that the experience had unlocked memories of other security incidents - ones where he'd been younger and wearing a red shirt. He was starting to remember. * * * * * Uninterrupted, Ensign Isaac Spencer had been digging through the data banks for more than an hour. He'd learned Challenger was a ship of the United Federation of Planets with over 750 officers and crew aboard. He'd stumbled on a record - a log - that said the ship was responding to a distress call from a Federation freighter being attacked by Orion pirates. They'd been chasing the pirates and overcome them near this asteroid field. According to the log, they had seized the Orion ship, captured its crew, and had been slowly bringing them aboard as prisoners. There was no record of another attack after that, but timestamps showed the damage happened a couple hours after that. Whatever it was, it had been a surprise. Pleased with himself, he'd wandered back to report to Freeman or Savros, but couldn't find either one. That's when he heard the phasers - although he'd been too startled to wonder how he knew what they were. Unarmed, he dove under an engineering console, trying to keep quiet from the approaching shouts. With a sinking feeling, he wondered if the Orion prisoners had been freed by whatever struck the ship. If so, he considered, it might be their ship that was about to be overcome. * * * * * Dr. Alexei Juno carried the security officer over his shoulder as the lift stopped on Deck 7. Dr. Natalie Harris followed, knowing they could better care for Crewman Reinman in the sickbay that was supposedly on this level. Although they'd been initially uncertain about their respective medical skills, they'd managed to treat his ocular injuries on the bridge. More was starting to come back to them. Freeman, armed with a phaser, had joined the doctors as an escort. There was no telling if there were more murderous Orions lurking on these decks. He'd been fighting off a feeling of deja vu for the last few minutes, as well as the image of the security officer that had been vaporized in front of him. But he found his thoughts more overcome by that warbling he'd heard on the bridge before the lift doors had closed. The sound of a proximity alert... * * * * * Commander Zen Ba'alyo didn't really know his own name, but he was starting to know his place. From the command level of the Orion ship, he'd been talking to the image of Captain Rolf Seiben. Although he didn't recognize the man, he wore the same uniform; there was a growing sense of familiarity about him. They'd been fighting the green-skinned people on this ship since they first woke up. If so many of these Orions hadn't been restrained and similarly disoriented, they might have been easily overcome. But he and the others in the burgundy uniforms had been armed. None of them were fluent in the language on the signs and displays, but they'd managed to keep control. From the facts that were coming together, it seemed he and his group had invaded this ship, an idea he found distasteful. Onscreen, the one called Seiben was looking down, some concern in his expression. "Are you getting that?" he asked. "It's... a proximity alert." The man looked mildly pleased with himself as he identified it. Ba'alyo looked around at the other men in uniform, who started looking in turn at the incomprehensible consoles. There were so many blinking lights, they were overcome with information. What else was going to happen to them?
  11. Inside the starship Challenger, the crew was regaining their bearings. Four of the impulse engine fusion arrays had been brought online, restoring power to internal force fields and averting further decompression danger. Bulkheads, though still lowered on the damaged decks, could now be raised safely. The Matter/Anti-matter Reaction Chamber (M/ARC) was running at low levels. There was now sufficient energy to raise the external shields, charge the phaser banks, engage the tractor, or propel the ship at faster-than-light speeds - although none of these things had yet been attempted. In addition to steadying the rhythm of its heartbeat, the brain of the mighty ship was beginning to wake. Primary and secondary computer cores had been reinitialized. Several of those who were conscious had managed to learn their name, position, and rank aboard the ship. * * * * * Lieutenant Commander Ryan Leslie, who had just learned he was senior duty officer for the bridge's night shift, was making his way toward the center of Deck 7. He was helping Hannah Reed, the young woman who was listed as chief navigator, find a doctor to help her injured arm. Main sickbay was supposed to be on this level, somewhere towards the interior. He and Reed had passed a number of unconscious people sprawled on the deck or leaning against the angled surface of the corridors. Interestingly, none were wearing uniform jackets like theirs or the puffy white coveralls they'd seen on the impulse deck. Instead, these people wore burgundy one-piece jumpsuits with a black collar. And they had little brass plates on their right shoulders with names like Barstow and Murdock and Andrax. Although none were injured or dead, they'd been able to offer little help other than propping them in a more comfortable position. But no doctors in sight. "Where are they," Leslie asked no one in particular, "all huddled in an access tunnel somewhere?" * * * * * Accessing the computer library, Major Kimiko Johnson and Lieutenant Anastasia Poldara had learned their names and respective positions as Marine commandant and chief science officer. The afterglow of their find had been rudely interrupted by a violent, green-skinned giant, who'd been summarily subdued by the two of them. Under duress, he'd claimed to know nothing about their situation, having awoken in a holding cell several decks below them. The voice from the bridge had directed them to return him to a secured cell. They'd marched him into the corridor, agreeing it was a good idea. * * * * * His own name was Isaac Spencer, an ensign assigned as relief communications officer. At least that's what the crew manifest indicated. He'd left the others back at the warp intermix thing so he could access the computer. Scrolling through the visual record, he'd first recognized the face of his travelling companion Lieutenant Savros, who was listed as science officer. He was a Vulcan. Quintin M'Guire was the name associated with one of the guys they'd run into. He was listed as a junior lieutenant assigned as helmsman. Rounding out their group, he finally found Edward Freeman, a junior grade lieutenant in engineering. Inwardly pleased at his discoveries, Spencer started poking through the records, trying to figure out how they got there. * * * * * He ran the pads of one hand against the scratchy hair of his face, grunting a little. The other side of his face was throbbing and cold. Opening his eyes, he saw that he was lying against a metal floor. He muttered a curse and got to his feet, noting that through the darkness there were a lot of pulsing lights. Where was he? There were words printed on the wall that said "Cargo Transporter 1" and a large raised area in front of him. On the wide flat surface were stacked geometrically-shaped containers saying Elasian Imperial Trade, Dilithium Crystals, Raw. He looked down at the jumpsuit that covered his plump frame. He pulled off a brass plate that said Telthar. The whole place made no sense. Worse, it looked and smelled... sterile. Why would he be in such a place? * * * * * Captain Rolf Seiben had learned not only his name, but in the last hour had confirmed he was in charge of this drifting vessel. The young woman with him was Lieutenant Josephine Lessard, chief communications officer. They'd been pleased to field messages from throughout the ship and watch various systems come to life, but now there were troubling reports with words like "intruders" and "Orions". Now their attention was directed to a Science console and a disconcerting blip highlighted onscreen. Outside the starship Challenger, an unknown ship was moving slowly. It seemed to have its bearings - it was heading right for them.
  12. The starship Challenger and its crew were damaged. It had been three hours since the events which had caused both. Two explosions had ripped into the superstructure of the mighty starship, damaging systems and exposing some of the inner decks to space. The first had been further away, above and in front of the ship. Fragments had ripped into the upper foresection of the saucer, punching holes in the primary hull into Decks 3, 4, and 5. Force fields had deployed to preserve the atmosphere, but eventually failed due to increasing demands on impulse power. Portions of those decks were now in vacuum. Emergency bulkheads had lowered to protect the rest of the ship. The second explosion had been near the connecting "neck" of the ship and much closer. Debris had torn into the underside of the saucer, as well as portions of the secondary hull. The aft sections of Deck 11 and 12 on the saucer had eventually decompressed, as had the fore sections of Decks 13 - 16, including the photon torpedo complex. Again, bulkheads had lowered to protect the rest of the ship. The damage had been more than structural. Fluctuations in the magnetic constriction fields had engaged automatic safety protocols in Main Engineering. The warp intermix chamber had been flushed of reactants to avoid a catastrophic core breach. Plasma had been valved to the warp field coils, then vented overboard through the nacelles. Deuterium and antimatter in the core had been routed to their respective storage containment pods. The power demands of the ship had fallen to the impulse engines; sadly, only two of the twelve fusion generators had been running at 80% capacity, which was not enough to sustain both life support and the atmospheric force fields for more than a few hours. One by one, those fields had failed, decompressing the areas near the hull breaches. Eventually, the Main Shuttlebay field had collapsed as well, blowing several unanchored shuttlecraft out of the ship. The unique shock effect had disrupted the starboard and port primary computer cores, as well as the secondary core in engineering. The internal communications and sensors had overloaded and knocked offline. The external versions of these systems was non-functional, since subspace sensors and transceivers had been ionized. Without warp engines online, weapons and defensive shields were virtually powerless. The crew itself remained damaged, unable to access their memories or identities. Hundreds were still unconscious, with several minor injuries attributable to their collapse. A handful had been killed in the blasts, explosive decompression, or asphyxiated after failure of the force fields. But things were improving. A dozen officers and crew were making their way through the ship, trying to understand and correct their situation. While none of them knew their own names, teams had managed to reinitialize the computer cores and restore internal communications. The two active fusion engines had been brought to 100%, offering enough power to maintain life support and restore the atmospheric shields. Some had shown signs of remembering skills they were unaware they possessed. Things were improving. But the approach of the other ship might make things much worse.
  13. In summary of the above graphic: --Seiben / Lessard (and presumably Juno) remain on the bridge. --Leslie / Reed are in impulse engineering, having restored full power to two (of 12) fusion engines. --Savros / Spencer are on Deck 25, assessing onboard damage via the restored secondary computer core --Freeman is on Deck 24, having restored and reinitialized the secondary computer core --(Ana) Poldara / Kimiko are on Deck 7, having reinitialized the primary computer core and fiddled with power allocation --M'Guire's wanderings have intersected Freeman's, but he seems to have heading off to look for a lifepod --Harris / (Michael) Poldara were forced to flee into a Jeffries tube, after some of Deck 3 decompressed The location of other characters (Ba'alyo, Nitara, T'ashaya, and Teros) is not shown, but will be noted once revealed. [Note: This graphic is based on the ST:Generations MSD, which assumes a 34-deck Excelsior (Mk II) interior layout. Although I've referenced this graphic during the plotline, there are differences with our posted deck description.]
  14. Attached is a graphic depicting internal damage to the starship Challenger and the wanderings of those crewmembers who awoke in their amnesic state.
  15. It wasn't going to be that easy. First, he didn't really know what he was doing. It would have been easier if he knew he was Ryan Leslie, a Lieutenant Commander and duty officer in charge of the bridge's night shift. But it wasn't going to be that easy. Two hours ago, he'd woken up, finding himself stretched over a console in front of a large blank viewscreen. The circular room he was in had a lot of computer stations embedded in the walls around him. Most had people slumped over them or in chairs beside them. The room was dark, bathed only in red light. Several displays showed red blinking lights and warnings. Almost immediately, he realized he had no idea where he was. Distracted, he heard someone moan behind him and saw a man getting up from the metal floor, just beyond a curved railing. The man glanced around, looking similarly disoriented, and stumbled down a step into the center of the room. He swiveled a large, empty chair and dropped into it, rubbing his head. It hadn't taken long to determine the other man was just as confused as he was. Only after trying to introduce himself did he finally realize: he didn't know who he was. They tried to take in their surroundings. The large display in the back of the room showed they were on a ship called the USS Challenger. Other lights and warnings made it clear something bad had happened. A few key presses brought the lighting back to normal. It would have been easier if Leslie could remember his many years of sitting at a bridge engineering console. But it wasn't going to be that easy. They did a quick check of the other men and women around them, finding them unconscious, but uninjured. There was a frantic moment when they'd found one who had turned blue, but after trying to clear his airway, they'd found he was still breathing. After finding antenna on his head, noting the coolness of his body, and seeing the deep blueness of his skin they'd come to the conclusion that the man wasn't human. And yet, this didn't seem strange to either of them. The displays around them had titles like "Communications," "Science," and "Engineering," which suggested they were in the ship's control room or command center. The console he'd been laying on turned out to be "Helm" and "Navigation." They tried talking to the computer, but it only told them the memory banks were offline. It was a surprise when the woman showed up. Some kind of access panel popped open on the floor between the helm and the viewscreen, and she emerged, leveling some sort of weapon. She was dressed like they were, in some kind of uniform, which was something he hadn't really noticed about everyone in the room. It seemed like they should do something to get things fixed, but how could they know if they weren't doing more harm than good? They each assessed different consoles. Together, they learned there were multiple hull breaches, compromised shields, and bulkheads isolating damaged areas. Warp power and weapons were offline, but the ship was being powered by something called impulse engines. The computer core and communications seemed to be offline, but thrusters worked. It looked like they'd been attacked, but if so, why was there no sign of intruders? Why was no one shooting at them, trying to finish them off? It was the woman who made the next connection: If someone had crippled them, they might be back; it was up to the three of them to try and get the ship working. The other man had suggested getting warp power online, but the display showed Main Engineering was many levels below them on Deck 19. They would have to split up, but who should go? It was only then they noticed the few things that were different about their uniforms. The man in the center had a shoulder strap and turtleneck that were white, while Leslie's and the woman's were gray. Glancing around, they saw gold and green collars on some of the unconscious people. More importantly, the three of them had a decorative pin on their shoulder, but they weren't the same either. The man in the center had one that was more ornate, with three gold bars across it. Leslie noticed his own was box-shaped, with two inward-pointing chevrons, and a single gold bar. The woman had two small triangles, tipped with gold. There was no way of telling what these meant, but it seemed obvious the man in the center was in charge. That suggested who should stay and who should go. They studied the large Master Situation Display, noticing the pattern of gangways and tubes that interlaced the ship. Going first, Leslie lowered himself onto the rungs that would lead them to engineering. The woman followed. He could only hope that somehow, they could remember what to do, find someone who did, or locate instructions. He had no way of drawing on the extensive cross-training he'd received on almost every engineering and security system of this class. No, it wasn't going to be that easy. Descending as the woman closed the hatch above them, Leslie almost stepped on someone coming up the rungs. "Uh, hello?" came the voice below. Leslie returned the greeting, glad to see another face, even if it wasn't familiar. He had no way of knowing he'd just run into Dr. Michael Poldara, but this time, it wouldn't have made things any easier. And it wasn't going to get that way anytime soon.