Cmdr Ba'alyo

Commander Zen Ba’alyo took a step away from the tactical console, where Doug and Abe were conferring. He had given the two officers the problem of isolating a perimeter around the infected township of Giiwyen. He hoped the solution would be more in Lieutenant Kas’ area of expertise, since the alternative was the use of force. They’d already had to use shipboard phasers to warn off a groundcar that was about to enter the quarantined settlement. He was hardly a pacifist, but he preferred to exhaust other options first. Ba’alyo looked to his left, toward the image of Obi VI on the main viewer. The concentrations of people were shown in yellow on the topographic map, with outbreaks highlighted in red. A few red dots extended to individual homes, some nearly 100 km away from the northern town. Clearly, the quarantine needed to expand and include this circle, not just Giiwyen itself. But how could they enforce such a wide area? The limited population had worked to their advantage. There were only 50,000 colonists – minus the 3000 already dead, he realized. The next town was more than a thousand kilometers away, nestled against the continent's central mountain range. So far, nearly everyone had obeyed civil defense orders to limit travel and avoid Giiwyen. But what if there were more groundcars like the one they’d managed to stop? What if some of them headed out of the quarantine, instead of into it? How far should Challenger go to keep the perimeter secure? Captain Seiben and his team were already in conference with Governor Illan Mekam. They’d gone down unsuited, rallying morale among the hundreds who had turned out to see their beam-down. Given the relative distance of the capital – it was 20,000 km away and separated from the northern continent by a vast ocean stretch – there seemed to be no chance of contagion… yet. Thusfar, not a single case had been reported in the southern hemisphere. From the sound of it, the colony governor had followed protocol by the book: the quarantine of Giiwyen, public announcements, increased police presence, and travel restrictions. She’d taken the addition precaution of cancelling all off-world travel. The few hundred members of the remaining medical community had prepared hospital beds and supplies, but there was no one to treat and no samples to study. Up north, Giiwyen and its doctors had fallen silent – no one and no information was going in or out. Hopefully, Dr. Juno and Lieutenant Savros would change that. Wearing protective suits, they were moving through the quarantined area looking for survivors and some clue as to the nature of the pathogen. With luck, the could obtain a sample for further analysis. “Commander,” called the voice of Lieutenant Lessard from across the bridge. Zen turned, leaning against the railing and looking over the empty command chair towards her. “I’m receiving an update request from the John Snow,” she reported, touching the transceiver in her ear. “I’ve got visual from a Dr. Susan Nuress.” Ba’alyo nodded. The Oberth-class medical frigate was inbound, bringing a team from the Grima Center, which specialized in infectious diseases. With their two lead doctors down on the surface, it would fall to him to offer the details. Unfortunately, it would be a short, grim summary with more unknowns than knowns. He stepped around the railing, past the navigation station, and stepped up onto the central dias. He drew in a deep breath through his nostril before he acknowledged, “Onscreen.” And he told her what little they knew.

Commander Zen Ba'alyo eased into the center chair of the starship Challenger, reflecting soberly on the planet below and unfolding events. The Obi VI colony was young, established in the 2250's. Far from remote, its location high in the galactic plane and away from major shiplanes had nevertheless kept its population small - under fifty thousand. The planet was class-M with an adequate biosphere. It had a cooler climate and no exotic minerals or resources. From his knowledge of the stellar database, he knew the central star was A8V class, a light blue main sequence star which was less radiant than typical stars of its color. The diversity of its colonists was notable, reflecting a cross-section of races in this part of Federation space. While many new settlements were dominated by the founding members of the Federation, less than a third of the Obi VI colony was human, with a statistically insignificant number of Vulcans, Andorians, and Tellarites. He was surprised, given Efrosian reluctance to leave their homeworld, to learn that members of his own species were the second largest group. Two major land masses, divided between northern and southern hemispheres, comprised a third of the globe which wasn't ocean. Islands and archepelagoes took up the rest. The secluded settlement of Giiwyen in the north, which boasted a population of more than 3500, was the focus of their attention. Reports of the outbreak had started there, quickly decimating the ranks of available medical professionals. Dispatched to address the emergency, it had taken three days for Challenger to travel from Starbase 24 to the Obi system. Upon their arrival, the northern town was ominously quiet. Sensors showed more than three thousand already dead and hundreds still infected. In that short time, the mortality rate had jumped to exceed 90%. Although the infected were limited to the northern settlement, Lieutenant Savros had reported evidence the contagion was working its way into some of the native wildlife. Dr. Juno had listened to the reports gravely, then asked permission to suit up and get down to the surface. From there, he could seek samples and locate those still needing treatment. He'd left the bridge to do so. The captain had spoken with Governor Mekam, who was eager to confine the outbreak and calm her populace. She had requested a visible Starfleet presence. Captain Seiben had ordered Major Kimiko, Dr. Harris, and a small security team to join him in the transporter room, where they'd be beaming down to the colonial capital on the southern continent. It was then Challenger had detected a small groundcar making its way toward the infected town. It had ignored their warnings, refusing to answer hails. Zen had ordered Doug to fire a low-level warning burst in their path, which got their attention. For the moment, the vehicle had come to a stop. "Lieutenant," he looked toward the communications station, "let me know when the captain's landing party is away." Lessard nodded, touching the subspace transceiver in her ear. "They're almost suited and ready to energize," she reported. Zen ran a hand through his white mane of hair. He'd made no secret of his anxiety about sending the captain down there in the midst of this. Still, it looked like they might be able to establish a quarantine zone and isolate the disease. Would they be able to save those inside the perimeter? He looked at the tactical display, which showed the halted ground shuttle. What would it take to enforce it? Or to avoid the chaos of a planetside panic? He blinked. Avoid a panic, he repeated mentally. With sudden urgency, Ba'alyo looked back to Lessard. "Did you say suited?" he asked. The communications officer gave the briefest of nods. The executive officer got to his feet. "Savros, how many people are near the beam-down point in the capital?" The Vulcan's hands adjusted his sensor scope. "Several hundred," he announced dryly. He looked up, his voice slowing. "It would seem they are arriving at some kind of public gathering." A visible Starfleet presence, he recalled. The governor wanted the people to see that help was coming. How would a crowd react to seeing their rescuers arrive looking like they were afraid of a plague in their midst? "Lessard, get the transporter room," he ordered. He hoped he could stop the captain and his party from causing the panic they were hoping to contain…

Commander Zen Ba'alyo walked slowly through a viewing lounge on the orbital annex of Starbase 24. He looked out the two-story viewports at the Excelsior-class starship Challenger, suspended in the drydock framework beyond. Following battle with the rebel Klingon fleet inside the Azure Nebula, the small Starfleet task force had withdrawn toward Federation space. They'd been forced to dispatch at least four insurgent ships, but managed to recover three of the missing freighters and 42 members of their captured crew. There was no telling if there were more rebel ships in there, but that was the Empire's problem – Starfleet orders were to limit involvement toward getting their own people and property back. Upon clearing the nebula, the task force had been pleased to discover the Miranda-class starship Gallant, which they'd feared lost during the search. Ambushed by three D-7 cruisers, Gallant had taken heavy damage, lost communications, and fled deeper into the nebula to avoid destruction. But she had done her duty, warning the rest of the fleet about her attackers before taking refuge. Challenger and Georgetown had both sustained structural damage, but it was torpedo damage to their warp engines that had required the slow, four-day transit to Starbase 24. Having emerged almost unscathed, the starship Columbia took charge of the derelict freighters and provided cover during the return transit, while Venerable remained at the border to alert against further incursions. The starship Ardent, arriving too late for the battle, had offloaded supplies and assumed its own patrol route. Ba'alyo stepped closer to the viewport, feeling the chill beyond through his reddish, sensitive skin. Privately, he knew it would have been worse if not for the intelligence and escort provide by Captain Koloth of the IKS D'akturak. Despite the turmoil, the mission to Qo'noS had been dotted with success. Challenger had successfully defended the convoy, and its badly needed supplies, against capture by what they now knew were rebel forces. According to the logs he'd read, they had gathered crucial tactical information about Klingon cloaking capabilities and their limits. If not for the armed escort, the freighters and their cargo might have been used against Klingons who'd remained loyal during the coup. Dr. Gidgiddoni had stayed behind to make sure the medical supplies on Qo'noS went to good use. Her passions – especially toward patients – were always too boundless to contain. He would miss the chance to serve on the same ship with her, but it had allowed them a brief, but pleasant reacquaintance… and farewell. The science and engineering staffs had learned a great deal more about the ecological damage the Praxis explosion had caused to the Klingon homeworld. Although they were a long way from a solution, they'd made promising inroads and suggestions on how to restore atmospheric integrity. They had encountered Klingon scientists who thought it futile to waste effort on saving their planet, but it seemed Challenger had shown there was hope. The Federation wasn't swooping in from the border to seize their doomed world. The coup had been a surprise, possibly accelerated by the exposure of the Klingon spy codenamed Cardinal. Starfleet Intelligence had extracted the asset before he could be executed, perhaps prompting the insurgents to make their move early. The rebels had risked Federation neutrality by attacking and boarding Challenger to prevent Cardinal from spilling his secrets. They'd come close to succeeding. The principle of non-interference had been sorely tested. Challenger had been forced to sit out the ensuing battle, protecting the orbiting convoy. The return of Ambassador Dax aboard the Georgetown had seemed to rally the loyalists and stabilize the situation. But then, they'd learned the ground battle had started, and the diplomat was right in the middle of the hand-to-hand fighting. It had been a difficult order for Ba'alyo to send in his officers and the Marines. Commendably, they'd recovered the Trill without inserting themselves in the larger battle. In the end, the Klingons had sorted things out for themselves. The forces led by Kor had stormed the Great Hall and liberated Chancellor Azetbur. Kang's fleet had been too formidable, forcing the rebels to fall back toward their stronghold within the Azure Nebula. After weeks of search, their sister ship Columbia had learned the captured freighters were being kept in that same nebula. The Starfleet task force had converged on the site, engaging the hostiles, and recovered most of their ships and crew. Now it was over. Looking through the viewport, he could no visible battle scars on the Excelsior-class ship. Having served on Starbase 24 before his assignment as Challenger's XO, Zen had spent the last couple weeks with old colleagues. While most of the crew had been given liberty, however, he knew Cyiy and Kas had spent their time realigning the nacelles and replacing the advanced materials in the hull plating. He wasn't sure what the rest of the crew had been up to. He continued looking at the sleek, graceful lines of the starship as he walked up to the crewman at the docking port. "Commander Ba'alyo," he introduced himself, "returning to Challenger." The enlisted man was Ariolo by species, and he tilted his angular head down. He was new enough to the base that Zen didn't recognize him. "Yes, sir," he responded. He shifted his centaur-like torso and directed one arm toward the open circular port, where an engineering pod waited. "Just a moment and I'll summon a pilot to ferry you to the drydock." Ba'alyo was fully rated on the pod controls, but knew starbase procedures required someone to bring the pod back. "Thank you, crewman," he answered. He would be interested to know how the others had occupied their time. Although relationships had been forged through the rapid-fire boarding attempts, rescues, and combat, there was much about the crew he didn't know. He stole another glance at Challenger, who looked ready for her next mission. She would be his home. He hoped he would stay long enough to learn about those who'd share it with him.

Challenger had slipped the bonds of the Klingon homeworld and now hurtled toward a rendezvous with whatever waited for them in the Azure Nebula. At Warp 9, it would take twenty-nine hours to close the distance. Even knowing that battle probably awaited them there, the waiting was tense. As an astronavigation specialist, Zen couldn't help but imagine their progress as the line on a mental star chart. Eight hours into the journey, they would leave the Qo'noS Sector, passing by the trinary Rura Penthe star system that housed the infamous Klingon penal colony. The rest of their journey would straddle the separation between the Mempa Sector and the thin sliver of the Korvat Sector that hugged the Klingon-Federation border. They would pass the Morska listening outpost, then only three light years from the Khitomer system itself before arriving at the Maranga system, just inside the Vodrey arm of the Azure Nebula. Captain Saylek of the Columbia had mentioned receiving data on a number of navigational buoys within the diffuse cloud, which was good, since Maranga itself was a weak brown dwarf with a swarming collection of planetoids, asteroids, and rubble. Columbia, escorted by a cloaked Klingon cruiser under Captain Koloth, was closing in on the same location via a route that took them from their search in the Archanis Sector through Federation space. Zen wondered if they would be able to raise assistance from Starbase 24, his last posting. If Koloth's report could be trusted, the remaining bulk of the rebel fleet waited at Maranga alongside the captured Federation freighters and transports. Uncontested, they could launch strikes into UFP space or stir up trouble along the Romulan Neutral Zone. And there was the matter of the missing crew – these were Federation officers and citizens that could not be abandoned. Aside from extracting a well-placed spy and then the ambassador, Challenger had been largely restricted from interfering in the coup on Qo'noS, since it represented an internal Klingon matter. They'd been invited by the legitimate government to provide supplies, medical treatment, and environmental assistance before the coup, but once there, they could not stop a violent bid for power – even if it was against UFP interests. But the rebels had made the mistake of seizing Federation ships, stealing its cargo, and imprisoning or slaughtering its crews. Liberating these ships was a justifiable involvement, if only to prevent offering unwilling aid to one side. He mulled over options in his head. They'd learned a lot about the rebels tactics and potential cloaking weaknesses during the convoy attacks and the boarding action. He considered the tactical analyses done by Poldara, Savros, and Kas. It was time to put their exceptional talents to work.

Commander Zen Ba’alyo opened his eyes, somewhat refreshed by the rest he had stolen. The digital chronometer near his bunk showed nearly six hours had passed. Six hours since the insertion team came back aboard, having safely recovered the Federation ambassador from the surface of Qo’noS. By their account, Curzon Dax had been fighting with bladed weapons alongside the Klingon vanguard taking the Great Hall. Despite the ongoing surface battle, Marines and Starfleet officers from Challenger had located and extracted him. The ship had been unable to use the transporter to beam Ambassador Dax to safety, due to a combination of scattering fields and diplomatic lock-out. When Zen thought about it, it made sense to keep unwanted people from beaming in and out of your central government building. His tension hadn’t eased until the shuttle had touched down safety in the Challenger aft bay. As was the Efrosian habit, he’d endured it silently. Then, he left the bridge to Lieutenant Commander Cyiy, who had looked well rested after returning from the senior staff dinner aboard Georgetown. He asked Lessard to alert him if there was a change in status, but it looked like loyal Klingon forces would make short work of the few rebels remaining in the Great Hall. Since Lessard had not woken him, he did not know if the Klingons had finished their recapture of the government center or if they’d liberated Chancellor Azetbur, but it was natural to assume the worse hadn’t happened. No sudden reversals on the surface, no alerts indicating the ship or the convoy were under attack. Six hours with nothing bad developing, he noted. Perhaps the longest stretch since he’d arrived. He wondered if Captain Seiben was back aboard yet. He sat up, swinging his boots over the edge of the bed, and stretched his tall frame. At least the waiting was over. With the convoy supplies delivered, medical treatment begun, and the environmental study underway, Challenger had accomplished its primary orders in Klingon space. Other events had slowed them down, but with "Cardinal" dead, the Ambassador safe, and the coup resolving itself without Federation intervention, he wondered if remaining at Qo’noS was just begging for more trouble. Zen thought about their secondary mission – the missing ships from the earlier convoys. The starship Columbia was still speeding toward an encounter near the Azure Nebula. Was that where the last piece would play out? Would Challenger be part of it? He slipped on the white turtleneck of his command uniform and got to his feet. Time to see what was next.

I totally agree with Kansas. Keep it basic at the beginning, because you might have a sudden flash of insight after you've been playing for awhile, so you can throw it in later. I did this with my own bio. Even though my character's a Commander, I decided not to list a lot of details about his career. I'm not claiming its classified or contains any secrets, I just want the freedom to make some parts up later to support future stories: the guest villian is an old crewmate, I've been to this planet before, Darth Vader is my father... I also agree with Laarell and Images that there's lots of ways to lay out your bio. Check out the ones that are out there and you'll see different formats with different kinds of sections: Personal Statistics Background Service Record Education Personality / Psychological Profile Medical Record Interests Notable Career Incidents Miscellaneous I wouldn't use all of these. Pick a couple that are important to understanding your character. Think about how you imagine and how you want others to visualize your character: smart, huge, shy, brash, overeager, uncertain. This'll guide how you play and others respond to you. I'm also a big fan of finding a representative picture, but I'm a visual person. It's not essential.

With the captain and senior staff over dining on the Constitution-refit Georgetown, Commander Ba'alyo grew concerned about reports of Klingon ground forces moving in on the rebels at the Great Hall. He's already alerted Ensign Lessard to advise Captain Seiben of the development. Although the Prime Directive placed strict limitations on their involvement in an internal political struggle, there was one point of interest that seized his own thoughts. "Savros," he wondered aloud, "the Ambassador isn't human, but we should be able to pick out his vitals, shouldn't we?" The Federation diplomat had been returned to the Klingon First City on Qo'noS in the hopes of resolving the dispute. Ba'alyo assumed the other starship was tracking the envoy, but wanted to be cautious. He had no way of knowing Ambassador Dax had left strict orders with Georgetown not to be scanned or monitored. "Quite right," the Vulcan officer replied, "I'll scan for Trill life signs." Behind him, Lessard was closing the channel to the other ship. "Aye, sir," she concluded. "Challenger out." "I'm calibrating the sensors now," Savros reported, "we should know where the Ambassador is shortly." The Efrosian first officer turned toward Dr. Natalie Harris, who was lingering at the aft portion of the bridge. He lowered his voice. "I hate to ask, but do you know much about the Ambassador's physiology?" Space-going Trill were still a rarity, much like his own species. He knew their species was reluctant to discuss their internal anatomy – some sort of taboo, he supposed. He heard cases of them even avoiding transporters, or insisting that no pattern trace be kept. If he should somehow be injured… Harris looked a little sheepish. "He's a Trill," she chuckled weakly, "I know they have spots or ridges, depending on where they came from on the homeworld..." The way she trailed off suggested she was less than confident about her knowledge, which was hardly surprising. "Have you ever met him?" she asked. Zen shook his head. "No," he replied, "Just on our viewer." He remembered the split screen with Dax and Kang. "The Klingons seem to think highly of him." Toward the front of the bridge, Savros spoke up. "I think I have found him." His eyebrow went up. "He appears to be engaging in small arms." Ba'alyo blinked, then felt a surge of blood pound in his neck. "Engaged in small arms?" he said in sudden alarm. "He's in the battle?" "I didn't think ambassadors were..." Dr. Harris was saying behind him, "oh dear..." Beside him, Lessard swivelled, looking fretful. He looked over to her. "Do we…" he stammered, " Can we raise him, Lessard?" The communications chief turned back to her board. "Trying diplomatic channels." Savros turned away from his sensors. "Part of his negotiations?" Ba'alyo gripped the railing with his right hand. "No wonder the Klingons respect him... he's just as reckless as they are..." Almost as an afterthought, he turned toward Lessard. "And get me the Georgetown!" Dr. Harris moved beside him, rubbing her temples. He took a cleansing breath himself. Lessard was shaking her head. "Nothing from the Ambassador, sir," she reported, "but I have the Georgetown." "Onscreen," he directed, though his mind was already running through the Prime Directive options. Dax was a Federation civilian under special diplomatic protections. What was Challenger allowed to do to protect or extract him? On the Main Viewer, an Andorian female appeared, her antenna twitching in irritation as she put down some form of pastry. "Hello, Challenger," she greeted, almost lazily. Zen moved to center himself on the screen. "Georgetown, our sensors show loyalist Klingons are moving in on the Great Hall. Ambassador Curzon seems to be right in the battle." He could hear Lessard still trying to reach the diplomat. Unconsciously, he reached up to stroke the long, white whiskers of his beard. Lessard sat up suddenly, touching the subspace transceiver in her ear. She had obviously heard something. "Sir," she announced, "I've got a signal but no response. Trying to locate." Had he known she'd heard clanging weapons, he'd have been even more alarmed. The Andorian onscreen frowned. "Do you want me to get in touch with someone downstairs?" Ba'alyo looked onscreen, somewhat incredulous. "Before the Ambassador dies? I think you'd better." He felt his muscles tense, ready to spring into action. It seemed the time to sit things out had passed.

Commander Ba'alyo paced the aft bridge, wary of the upcoming dinner that was scheduled aboard the Constitution-refit Georgetown. Although Lessard had passed on communications that the rebel faction was collapsing, Zen remained concerned about letting down their guard in what remained a potential war zone. As yet, Captain Seiben had not detailed the make-up of the dinner party. It was possible it would be limited to command officers, in which case he and Lieutenant Commander Cyiy would accompany the captain . On the other hand, the gathering might be for the entire senior staff. If so, Zen hoped he and the junior officers would be allowed to remain aboard Challenger as a contingency. By all reports, the ground battles had stalled, but the rebels still held control of the Great Hall. In orbit, it seemed the rebel ships had withdrawn under cloak. Corroborating subspace messages from Rok'Tun and Captain Saylek indicated the stolen freighters and at least one warship were falling back toward the Maranga system. Columbia was on its way there, alone. An estimated transit of 48 hours. Zen was concerned about the liklihood that Columbia, if not heading into an outright trap, would arrive there to find itself hopelessly outnumbered. The commander circled around toward the front of the bridge, approaching Lieutenant (j.g.) Savros at the secondary science console. "Can you pull up charts on the Maranga system?" he quietly asked the Vulcan. Astronavigation had been his career path, but Zen didn't know every system in the quadrant by memory. Savros nodded and complied, accessing the stellar cartography database. In a few moments, the system was displayed on the upper bank. Maranga was a loose collection of planetoids, asteroids, and rubble – a hornet's nest of debris locked in orbit around a weak brown dwarf. It was embedded in the Vodrey cloud, a diffuse extension of the larger Azure Nebula. What he did know from memory was that this nebula was a favorite staging area for Klingon raids into Federation space over the last thirty years – and a useful screen for Starfleet insertions, as well. Just last year, he had been aboard the Excelsior when Captain Hikaru Sulu had attempted to sneak into Klingon territory, an incident that had not made the official logs. Inside the nebula, they had been discovered by a D9 K'tinga-class warship commanded by Kang, the same formidable Klingon who now seemed in command of the loyalist forces above Qo'noS. He wondered if that meant other ships routinely patrolled the area. He knew Challenger needed to stay and protect the ships of the convoy and be ready to extract Ambassador Dax. It was probably also important to show Federation support and witness the conclusion of the coup. But it felt like they were sending someone else to conclude their mission while they sat at leisure. Up to this point, they'd been restricted from interfering in what was clearly an internal political matter of the Klingon Empire. But it seemed like the one part that did concern Starfleet, the recovery of their stolen freighters and crews, was about to happen elsewhere – without them. Zen allowed a low growl of unease, then folded his arms and looked off at the viewer.

The schedule for all Academy sims is posted at www.stsf.net/schedule.php. There's one every night.

Bridge schematic and diagram for the USS Challenger:

Canonically, it is supportable that Chekov was aboard at some point during the first season of TOS, even if he was not a member of the bridge crew - remember that Khan "never forget a face". Space Seed was a (late) season one episode. So a conscious continuity oversight (acknowledged by Koenig and Nicholas Meyers) later helps continuity. No more than Starfleet still not using seat belts. If they play with the continuity of the original Enterprise, they're going to be running contrary to the long Trek tradition of incorporating the way things were - ala the smooth and chunky Klingon foreheads. I mean, we're okay with velour uniforms but we'd have a problem with orange buttons? I remember an old Pocket Book that posited that complex warp fields were detrimental to some technology, so they had to use "macro" electronics and analog technology. Interestingly, this is what the reimagined Battlestar Galactica did, eschewing higher tech solutions to avoid Cylon tampering. So they have handheld phones and unnetworked computers. One of Star Trek: Enterprise's failings was a lack of respect for series continuity. Nemesis made some of the same mistakes. This doesn't mean rigid adherance is required, but I hope Mr. Abrams realizes this isn't a series that needs reimagining. (I've seen a CGI extension of NCC-1701 that shows practically Art Deco nacelles - I hope that's a fake.) There's something to be said for breathing new life to draw in the young fans, but if it costs you a massive and loyal fan base, what's the point of using the brand name? I'm still willing to see what they come up with, but will it be more like DS9's healthy respect in "Trials and Tribblations" or the travesties that were the Star Wars prequels? P.S. Quintos is perfect casting. P.P.S. I'm unqualified to debate Mr. Urban's hotness.

Captain Seiben remained below, dealing with information from the liberated spy known as Cardinal. According to report, Dr. Gidgiddoni had broken the ethical dilemma and allowed the Klingon to pass on his secrets before dying. Ba'alyo frowned, making the long white hair of his beard swing. He wondered how she had justified such a position. He and Lieutenant Commander Cyiy were here on the bridge, keeping watch in the captain's absence. As usual, Ba'alyo avoided sitting and chose to walk around the outer ring of the bridge. The Master Situation Display showed where engineering had excised the Klingon boarding pod from the outer hull. Kas, Doug, and Savros were leading efforts to determine how it had penetrated Challenger's shields in the first place. The Engineering I console was configured for damage control and showed the havoc caused by the boarding action – a hole in the outer hull near Deck 15, lowered bulkheads where they deployed anesthezine countermeasures, and damaged corridors near sickbay. He paced on, passing Internal Security and its list of nearly a dozen prisoners being held securely in the brig. He still wondered what to do about them. Passing the starboard turbolift, he looked ahead to the tactical station. Its display showed a small fleet of Klingon ships gathered in the debris field of Praxis. Only a few rebel ships lay in orbit over the First City, but there'd been no weapons fire since Challenger had forced withdrawal of the cloaked ship that had attacked them. He passed the Main Viewer and its expansive display of Qo'noS. Beyond it, Lieutenant Poldara was manning the science consoles, rolling a chair between them both. He took deliberate steps, working to not disrupt her. On the other side of the portside turbolift, Ensign Lessard was clearly concentrating on the heavy, confused comm traffic and trying to sort out what was going on out there. Finishing the circuit of his pacing, Ba'alyo noted that Engineering II showed power and propulsion at 100%. He paused for a moment at the back of the bridge. Since Cyiy already had the center chair, he took the opportunity to slip out one of the aft doors and over to the small Deck 1 Mess. It was a small room with just five chairs, but it was easily accessible from the bridge and had a mini Nutritech food processor unit. He punched in the code for a strong black coffee, a human habit he had unavoidably acquired. The synthesis machinery went to work. As he waited the obligatory twenty seconds, he thought about sharing the hot beverage with Giddoni back on the Ardent. He let a corner of his mustache go up. The two of them had been younger officers – he a junior navigator and her in her shipboard residency. It was good to see her again. The readout changed to indicate "selection ready" and he took the steaming mug from the holding bin. Sipping, he realized this was the first break in the tension since he'd been aboard. He wondered how long it would last.

Commander Zen Ba'alyo stepped out of the starboard turbolift onto the bridge, near the security console. He recognized almost none of the faces. The recent crisis had not allowed much of a formal introduction to the crew. The center chair was empty – the captain was probably conferring with sickbay. Across the bridge, a relief officer was at communications, so he didn't see Lessard. The only person he'd met already was the Vulcan junior lieutenant nearby. Despite the color of his turtleneck which indicated he was a member of the science staff, he was hunched over the tactical console. This made sense, since Doug was recovering in sickbay. He took a step forward, announcing his presence. "Savros." The Vulcan looked up. "Sir," he straightened. Ba'alyo made a motion for him to continue as he was, which sent a twinge of pain through his injured forearm. Savros noted the bandage under the damaged uniform sleeve, but made no inquiry. "Status," he inquired in his low, rumbling voice. "What goes on out there?" He already knew the internal status. The crew had come together to repel a dozen Klingons who'd boarded the ship. He wondered if that would cause it's own problems. In the last few months, his assignment had been to monitor treaty compliance at their star fortresses. Travelling on their ships, he'd learned some quirks of Klingon culture. Among their warriors, death concerned them less than the thought of capture. Now the brig would be filled with Klingons who had been gassed, stunned, or disabled. Would it have been more merciful to slay them? What would the confusing demands of their honor demand? His own martial tradition flared briefly. They'd showed no mercy in bringing grenades and explosives to kill their target, a Klingon spy. What mercy did they owe in return? He pushed his thoughts aside to listen to the science officer. "Orbital communications are still jammed, so we still can't reach the Columbia," Savros reported. "The readings are confusing. The cloaked ship that attacked us went visible and withdrew after we hit it. Some larger ships are holding position above the capital city, but a bigger group gathers near the remains of Praxis." "And on the surface?" the XO asked. Savros shook his head slightly. "No contact, but there are Klingon warriors massed around the Great Hall." So the coup was still happening. "But no calls for assistance," Ba'alyo noted. "And no demands," Savros added. The Efrosian cradled the adhesion bandage on his forearm and looked at the situation unfolding onscreen. They'd managed to stay alive and avoid violating the Prime Directive so far. But the rebel Klingons had tried to kill the Klingon spy onboard, which meant he was a some kind of risk to them. That alone might challenge their ability to remain neutral. He looked toward the center chair, realizing the ultimate conflict was not yet over.

Zen Ba'alyo (ZEN Bay-ALL-yo), Commander Executive Officer, USS Challenger NCC-2457 Species : Efrosian Gender : male Height : 6'0" Weight : 180 lbs. Eye Color : White Hair Color : White Place of Birth : Efros Delta Background Ba'alyo is a skilled navigator with an aptitude for stellar cartography. Before transferring to the command division, he served as a science specialist in subspace field dynamics. He used these combined skills in support of the failed transwarp project on the Excelsior-class. He has served short stints as a scientist and navigator on a series of starships including the Triumph, Reliant, Yorktown, Ardent, Excelsior, and Lexington. He was also based on Starbase 24, from where he ventured on Klingon ships to conduct border inspections, monitor treaty compliance, and observe the dismantling of several Klingon star fortresses. His assignment to Challenger is his first posting as executive officer on a starship. Efrosian Physiology Since Efrosian eyesight includes some infrared and ultraviolet ability, this adversely affects their ability to see in the visual range used by most humanoids. This results in mild color and contrast blindness. Ba'alyo sometimes uses optical aids during briefings to help. The Efrosian species has an inherent, limited sensitivity to electromagnetic and subspace fields. Personal Efficiency reports describe Ba'alyo as a reflective officer who works to develop and use skills in others. He is quick to accept and provide counsel. Although his assignments have been generally short, he has maintained relationships with officers and enlisted personnel throughout the fleet.

Images of Commander Ba'alyo.

He kicked the strangely curved blade away from the fallen Klingon - a bat'leth, if he remembered right. Although his adversary had been stupid to bring a blade to a phaser fight, it had still taken a heavy stun from Zen and two from Doug to bring him down. Klingons were durable fighters, he had to admit. The warrior-priests of his clan would admire this one. He looked toward the satchel the Klingon had been reaching into. "Doug, see what he was doing over there," he ordered. The tactical officer moved down the corridor toward an open panel, prodding open the leathery sack beside it. Ba'alyo could see blinking lights on what looked like a detonator. He slapped his hand against the wall panel. "Bridge, one Klingon down on Deck Eight. we've got explosives!" His thoughts raced, knowing that if the explosives went off here, it could rip into sickbay below them. With the Klingon spy in surgery, they could lose any information he carried about the ongoing coup. Trying to think where the nearest transporter room was, he realized it had been awhile since he'd been on this class of ship. There was little time for him to remember. "Lieutenant," he called out, "pick up those explosives and head to the transporter!" Momentarily, he wished the systems and fields inside a starship weren't so complex. If transporters could operate freely inside, they could just beam it from one site to another site, maybe right into space. He heard the bridge calling after him as he rushed away. He wasn't going to send Doug to his death alone. Navigators didn't usually give such orders, but even as a shiny new XO, he wasn't ready to let someone else take a risk he wouldn't do himself. Besides, there was supposed to be one more intruder on this deck. He watched Doug turn down one of the radial corridors, maybe toward the gangway. Vaguely, Zen remembered that the transporter room on the Excelsior had been one deck below sickbay - Deck 10? He followed, hoping the anesthezine gas, security, and the Marines were handling the other dangers. He breathed a silent blessing on their task. If he and Doug failed, the ship might go up from the inside out.

He would not choose a moment of crisis to voice his concerns. He'd only been aboard the starship Challenger a few hours. With the appearance of the missing freighter, then the sudden scrambling of Klingon forces, and now the boarding action, he'd had no time to meet with the man he had been ordered to serve under. He did not know Captain Rolf Seiben. He had read the official records and knew the human had earned the right to command, but he did not know how he thought. While the intelligence man might think the Prime Directive something to ignore, this was still a Starfleet ship and he did not set Federation policy. That was for President Ra-ghoratreii, the Council, and the Admiralty. The Marine commander was far too eager to inject herself into the internal affairs of a foreign power. But her ranks were used to following conflicting, difficult orders. He would not fault her for it. As first officer, it was his duty to object if they were violating protocol. If the Klingons were going to start shooting at each other, Challenger might need fall back, protect its convoy, and withdraw. Things would be different if it were a Romulan invasion or a Tholian attack, but it wasn't. This looked like Klingons deciding their own fate, even if it didn't meet Federation approval. Unless Captain Seiben knew something he didn't. Did he already have orders or information he hadn't shared? From Zen's position near communications, he stole a glance at the human through pale, white eyes. Although he saw in wavelengths that differed from many humanoids, the image gained him no insight. No time for that now. The ship was in danger. As he'd said earlier, "Debate later. Battlestations." Clearly, they had the right to repel hostile boarders. And if they could find the ship that fired on them, they'd be within their rights to return fire and destroy it. He was confident of the crew's abilities. They had not treated him like an outsider. Ensign Lessard had done good work, using comm traffic to speculate which ships might be loyal. Lieutenant "T" at tactical had kept watch and his cool, not firing on anyone without the captain's order. The Vulcan at science had speculated the attacker was another Klingon ship that could fire while cloaked. No more torpedoes were coming at them, so the focus was on the Klingons spilling into Deck 15, Section 2. The issue of taking sides beyond the ship would come later. Onboard, he knew which side he was on.