Sheng-ji

Wait...you're telling me that they let a rabid dog command a starship?

 

:(

Did you just call me a rabid dog??? :(

Lt.(Jg.) Sheng-ji Marish

AENG | USS Reaent

SD 0402.24

>Begin<

Captain Ty Montiar and his first officer, Commander Raymond DiNazo, sat in the officer’s mess of the as yet commissioned USS AIDA, NCC-87249, Saber-Class, looking over personnel files.

“You know,” DiNazo said to his captain, who looked up briefly from the pADD in his hand to his first officer. “Picking a Chief Engineer, it’s a big decision.”

“Yeah I know,” Montair said, pointing to a large mug of coffee, “That’s why I have this.”

“I am surprised Starfleet didn’t just give us one,” DiNazo said as he leafed through the PADDs sprawled out on the table. “I mean, we’re not going to know what to do if they keep letting us have so much…freedom.”

Montair smirked. “Well you know,” he said in between coffee sips, “If this were my first time ‘round they would, but since this is what…my third command, they figure I can pick my own crew.”

“Oh,” DiNazo said grinning, “Is that how you got me?”

“No,” Montair said coyly, “You I got stuck with.”

They smirked and continued looking through the files. Occasionally one of them would speak up, making a comment about a perspective candidate.

“What about O’Shannon?”

“Maybe,” Montair said, “Put him in the maybe stack.”

“Jules?”

“I don’t know,” DiNazo replied. “Kind of hot tempered.”

“For an Engineer?”

“Yeah…”

“Oh….uhh no then.”

Finally they had narrowed the list down to seven PADDs all of which set neatly in front of them.

“What about the Dameon?” DiNazo said looking at the seventh PADD, which he picked up from the end of the line. “Lieutenant Junior Grade Sheng-Ji Marish, Assistant Engineer, USS Reaent.”

“Michael’s pet dog?”

DiNazo smirked. “I don’t think Lt. Marish would see it that way, but yes.”

Montair picked up the PADD with the Dameon’s muzzle on it and looked it over. “Hmm, Danm near blew the ship up, that’s promising…”

“Has extensive training in weapons, some field experience, and helped build the USS Reno, Saber-Class…and yes…nearly blew the Reaent into a million pieces.”

Montair seemed to think about that line of credentials for a moment, “Don’t throw him away yet, but let’s have a look at the others.”

A few hours later, the list had narrowed again, and ‘Michael’s Pet Dog’ was still in the running.

“Hmm,” Montair said looking over the remaining three finalists. “We keep coming back to Lt. Marish.”

“Yeah we do,” DiNazo said, he picked up the PADD, although by now he’d memorized the important points of the Starfleet Bio. “What do you think, should we give the boy a shot?”

Again the Captain of the USS AIDA seemed to debate these issues in his head before finally speaking. “Well he doesn’t have much in the way of Command experience and didn’t do all that well in the command level courses, but he knows the in’s and out’s of a Saber-class, and that counts for something. So he nearly blew up a ship, I guess if we throw him out for that, will have to prosecute me too.”

DiNazo smirked. “Heh,” was all he said before growing serious again. “We’re going to have a lot of younger crew on this boat…he could be an asset.”

“He’s a little older than most of them, and at least has some field time,” Montair said. “The other two are fresh from the Academy…you know what that means.”

“They think by the book means ‘by the book’,” DiNazo said looking briefly at the other two PADDS.

“Exactly,” the Captain said placing the other two to the side, “At least this one is already house broken…”

“No Pun Intended?”

“Meh.”

“So that settles that?”

“Yep,” Montair said leaning back, “You want me to contact him, or would you rather do it?”

DiNazo thought for a moment. “Why Captain,” he said. “I wouldn’t dream of bogging you down with paper work, of course I’d be happy to contact Lt. Marish and inform him of his transfer.”

“Tell him if he takes the job,” Montair said smirking, “He’ll be promoted to full Lieutenant, and he’ll even get his own office and everything.”

“Right sir,” DiNazo said standing, “I’ll get right on it.”

____

On the Reaent, a few Hours before Last Week’s Sim.

Sheng-Ji Marish had just stepped into his quarters for a moment; he had needed to freshen up before returning to engineering for his duty shift as “chief.”

But what had started out as a simple trip, turned into something all together different as he walked in to notice a blinking light indicating a message. Sheng-ji sauntered over to the desk and hit the button with a claw.

After entering his personal access code, he started to change uniforms, he really didn’t care about seeing the message—he could hear quite well.

The voice on the recording was unfamiliar, it was gruff, but with a paradoxically smooth quality to it, and from the sounds of it, the man on the other end was middle aged.

“Lt. Marish,” the voices started. Straight foreword.

“My Name is Commander DiNazo, First Officer of the USS Aida,” DiNazo’s voice crackled over the comm. A name to the voice, but why would a commander contact me—directly?

“Lt. I am going to cut the crap and get straight to the point,” DiNazo’s voice was all business, “Captain Montair and myself are…requesting…that you take position of Chief of Engineering aboard the USS Aida…”

“Pause recording,” Sheng-Ji blinked, and returned to the sitting area where the computer terminal was. With ears like his, he knew he hadn’t missed that. Chief of Enigineering!?!

“Computer, Resume recording from time index Alpha 15.6.”

A few beeps later the screen flashed back to life, DiNazo’s chiseled distinctly Italian face filled the screen once more. “Captain Montair and myself are…requesting…that you take position of Chief of Engineering aboard the USS Aida,” the message repeated.

“I know this is coming as a surprise to you,” DiNazo said. That’s an understatement.

“However,” the message continued, despite Sheng-ji’s increasing bewilderment. “The Captain and I think, that after a careful review of your personnel file, that you are exactly the man for the job, I have included a full file on the Aida and her specs, as well you will find attached orders for you to report to the Adalenne Shipyards, where the Aida is in the final stages of completion. However, since I know that the Reaent is currently a fair distance from Adalenne, I have put your transfer orders on hold until you complete your current mission. I look forward to hearing from you. Captain Micheals and Commander Ridire will be informed shortly of your transfer. Congratulations Lieutenant Marish, Godspeed. This Message Ends Now.”

>End<

Who you callin' a mutt??

Lt.(Jg.) Sheng-ji Marish

AENG | USS Reaent

SD 0501.29

>Begin<

Something it seemed was always happening around this vessel. And for some reason, Sheng-Ji just couldn’t stay clear of it. Sure they’d managed to avoid near death—yet again and avert a war with the Romulan Empire. But now he was claw deep into an investigation of possible sabotage.

He was an engineer, not a detective. In fact he wasn’t even an explorer. Everyone else it seemed on this ship was ready to encounter the unknown, but Sheng-ji was rather content with dealing with what he knew about—which didn’t include intergalactic strife or sabotage.

As he and Graham made their way to Security, Sheng-ji could only sigh internally. Why he had ever left Utopia Planetia for one of these fleet jobs was compeletly beyond him. Oh sure, they made it look all nice on the brochure: “Come see the Galaxy in Style,” or “Do your duty for the Federation,” or “Be all that You Can be in Starfleet.”

He’d roll over and play fetch if they’d change it to: “Come Blow up your Captain,” or “Be Shot at by Hostile Aliens,” or “Be Blown Up by your own crew!”

It was a good thing his hair was already silvery-gray, because it if it weren’t, by the time he left the Reaent—he’d have plenty of gray hairs.

The worst thing was, he wasn’t even doing what he’d spent 1/3 of his life training to do. Oh sure he’d taken the basic engineering classes, learning how to reroute a fault plasma inducer, or change a light bulb in a science lab. But that wasn’t why he’d entered Starfleet—no he’d trained to build and design weapons systems. Of course, that was just what he’d been doing a few hours ago…and he saw how that turned out.

“Oh great maker,” he thought to himself. “Give me patience to see you will.”

More than ever in his life, he felt himself questioning the will of the maker. Which of course only made things worse. The humans had a phrase…”the lord works in mysterious ways.” Perhaps the same was true with his god. Perhaps the maker worked in mysterious ways, and all of this strife was testing him fro some other, greater purpose. Only he knew for sure.

>End Log<

She's going by dog years!! ::ducks::

You have a problem with the Canine species, Cat Lady??

Heh usually when a Non-GM player is an XO or CO...people usually die....or is that just when N'Dak's MCO or MXo...

I know that record is like XO: 9-36-2 and CO is like 4-16-0....heh

Meanwhile, t'Rex and basically the whole ship is plotting a way to get rid of N'Dak, at this rate we're gonna need a whole new crew by April. lol..

Anyways, Yay us for 10 years of continuous simming. ::breaks out the Rihannsu ale and confetti:: wOOt!

::grins Evilly::

Happy Birthday Talon!

Lt.(Jg.) Sheng-ji Marish

AENG | USS Reaent

SD 0501.05

>Begin<

Sheng-ji sat to the side of engineering at a consol working by himself, running dynamic simulations of how to expose a Romulan warbird for her sheath of energy. It wasn;t nearly as easy as it sounded.

He tapped away, looking busy as ever. But he could feel it: the look of the other crewmen on his back, looking at the ears, the claws—and fangs had he been smiling.

Humans, he had decided, for all their benevolence, were still something of racists. They feared, or at least were overtly curious to the point being of irritatingly so, any race that deviated from their humanoid norms.

He’d scene it as a cadet, and continued to see it here on the Reaent. Normally he’d ignored it, but lately, the certain and annoying stares from the junior officers was really starting to annoy him. It was probably nothing, and he should let it go by the way side. But somehow, he just couldn’t.

But despite that, he still had a task at hand, and he needed to concentrate solely on that task. If there were a Romulan Warbird out there, she wasn’t going to be to happy to see two Federation vessel in the neutral zone. At that was never a good thing when the point-ears weren’t happy.

He rubbed his eyes, as he took a momentary rest from the simulations and mathematical equations. This was more along his lines of work, than replacing a light fixture in a science bay, but still it was taxing, and he was beginning to show the signs of a tired, overworked young officer. Which could only mean one thing—after another cup of strong coffee—he’d be ready for another 16 hours of work.

>End Log<

Welcome to STSF!

An Updated Bio ;)

Lt.(Jg.) Sheng-ji Marish

AENG | USS Reaent

SD 0412.10

>Begin<

The whole of engineering seemed on edge as the Reaent hovered in the Neutral Zone. Not that Sheng-ji blamed any of the humans for being—what was it he was sensing—anxiety. He wasn’t telepathic—thankfully—personally he didn’t want to be bouncing anyone else’s thoughts around his head, but his people seemed to have a knack for perceiving fear and angst in others. Perhaps it was some ancient predatory instinct that hadn’t been lost.

He had never met a Romulan, never had any reason to. Nor did he fear them. He read about them at the Academy, masters of deception they had been called; able to manipulate almost any situation to suite their needs.

But as he sat looking over the status monitors, he couldn’t help but wonder why everyone was so anxious. The nervous chatter and tepid speech of his fellow shift mates getting to him as well, and it wasn’t long before the hair along his neck had began to stand slight, his ears we pinned back at attention and he was jumpy as a teran frog. It was as if the entire engineering staff expected a fleet of Romulan warbirds to decloak at any moment and blow them all to the next life.

He shook off the ever growing angst, and continued watching the situation monitors. The warp-core’s soothing murmur helped. Times like this were the worst. The waiting, not knowing what would happen next.

Your gripped by the unknown and powerless to control whatever is waiting for you behind door number one. One moment your like a snake crossing the road, blissfully unaware a car is speeding towards you—then whack—your road kill.

Sheng-ji accepted the inevitability of death long ago. Only fools dream of immortality. He just hadn’t dwelled on death lately. But with the immediate future cloudy and hazy, he could not help but think thoughts of his own mortality as he watched the consoles flicker.

His time would come some day—he just hoped that that time was not today.

>End Log<

Pearl Harbor (and unitll 9/11 the only real) was the first time in American History that we seemed mortal, and the only time America was attacked on American soil. Such an experience is unique through out our history. A little humanity reminds us who we are.

Err...sorry! I was more thinking of new player recruiting, not Blurox's current role of dealing with GM recruits. :D

Uhuh sure.... ;)

Welcome to STSF! Hope to see you around the Academies :o

Lt.(JG) Sheng-Ji Mairsh

Asst. Engineer | USS Reaent

SD 0411.24

>Begin<

The warp core buzzed in Sheng-ji’s ears, calming him. He was frustrated with the lack of respect he often got from among his peers, but the growling and anger eased as he focused on his work at hand and pushed those other matters from his mind.

Once again, Sheng-ji had found himself in ‘command’ of Engineering in a dangerous situation. Of course this time at least McLean was conscious—just no where to be found. The Gods apparently enjoyed testing him. What was the human phrase “what does not kill you, will only maim you,” or something like that.

He released a deep breath as he rapped his claws over the “center” consol in Main Engineering. It was the nerve center for the entire Engineering section, and from it he was up to speed on every little power transfer, every out of alignment EPS Manifold.

Running his clawed fingers over the consol, he felt, perhaps for the first time, that he had found a place for himself.

Everyone was on edge, being so close to Romulan Space, and he was no different. While relations had improved between the two species, things weren’t as the humans would say “hunky-dory.”

Not to mention they were in the middle of the Neutral Zone, in some sector of space with very little known about it that wasn’t ‘classified’ beyond the Dameon Engineer’s clearance level.

He supposed that they might get lucky and nothing at all happen on the mission that was not supposed to happen—but then that seemed to rarely ever happen. He wondered if he was the Jonah…or if it were someone else that carried the bad luck to the crew.

Relaxing ever so cautiously, Sheng-ji leaned back against the lightly padded chair, continuing to monitor the situation to assure that if anything happened he could react quickly to it.

>End<

Well the Expos are as good as gone.

And from a legal point of view, the only thing that Montreal really has a calim to, based on past decisions, is the actual name "Montreal Expos." The team itself is currently owned and ran by the baseball owners collectivly (which is what makes this situation a little different from other teams where an individual owns the team)

Still the point remains, contrary to popular belief you have no stake in an NFL team what so ever. If the San Fransisco 49'ers wanted to move to Orlando, they could. Montreal (unless the city actually owns the team, which I doubt they do.) has no real controll over the situation.

As far as robbing someone, I don;t think this is at the level of say the Cleveland Browns to Baltimore or Baltimore Colts to Indy moves either.

Lt.(Jg.) Sheng-ji Marish

AENG | USS Reaent

SD 0411.08

>Begin<

Batting his eyes open, Sheng-ji slowly pushes himself up from his bed. Allowing his eyes to adjust to the dim light, he yawned, scratching behind his left ear with his claws, letting out a slight sound of enjoyment accompanying the yawn.

After his eyes had adjusted, he looked for the clock across the room. There was still some time before they reached the coordinates they were headed towards, and several hours before he was to be on duty again.

Having had a rather nice dog-nap, he felt a slight tinge of hunger. But first, he needed a shower, he smelt worse than any normal dog would ever want to. Undressing, he stepped into the smallish sonic shower stall and turned it on, letting the sonic pulses beat away at his skin.

After a few minutes under the sonic barrage, he wrapped a towel around himself and went back into the living quarters. His living quarters, a single suite for junior officers, weren’t broom closet small, but weren’t the condos of the galaxies or sovereigns either.

Not that Sheng-ji minded. Compared to other officers he knew, his were rather sparse in decoration. There was of course the customary furniture, a desk and chair, a couch and coffee table that doubled as the dinning table, and a nice sized bed. The only non-issue decorations in his neatly kept quarters were several small statues of the gods of his people—reminders of his mortality—and a picture of his parents that he kept by his bed. Other than that, it would be hard for an outsider to identify the inhabitant of the quarters.

Sheng-ji had never been very sentimental, and he certainly wasn’t an expert in interior design.

Still donning his towel, he stepped over to the smallish closet across from the bed. Sliding the closet door open he sorted through his array of clothing. Mostly duty uniforms, he had brought a miniscule collection of “civilian” clothing when eh had came aboard. Either because he rarely took time off, or simply because he was no slave to fashion, despite his rather striking looks.

Finding a simple red kimono and a pair loose fitting red pants, he dressed himself, and then slid on a pair of leather sandals. Looking at himself in the nearby dresser mirror, he smiled showing his fangs.

Flipping his flowing silver locks behind his back, he walked to the dresser opening a the top drawer, taking a simple black ribbon from one of the drawers and tied his hair in a pony tail, allowing two ‘tails’ of hair to remain flowing down from behind his ears and in front of his shoulders on either side in perfect symmetry.

Satisfied he exited his quarters and entered the nearby lift, and for the first time since awakening spoke, “Forward Lounge.”

Then retreated back into silence as the lift hummed to life carrying him towards the forward lounge. As the lift came to a measured and precise stop, and the doors opened with a controlled swoosh, Sheng-ji stepped out heading down the corridor towards the lounge.

A bit anxious at being around the crew for really the first time since he had came aboard the Reaent, he entered through the double doors and found a quite window seat.

>End Log<

Lt.(Jg.) Sheng-ji Marish

AENG | USS Reaent

SD 0411.03

>Begin<

Sheng-ji set quietly, and alone, in the forward lounge of the Hawking. He had opted to stay onboard as one of the skeleton crew that would be needed. It wasn’t that he disliked the Reaent but he had become—in some way—attached to the nostalgic old ship he now found himself on.

He watched the swirling nebula gas clouds out the window, where the now destroyed vessel had been. He wondered just exactly had been going on, but he knew that no immediate answer would be coming.

He then focused his eyes on the Reaent, relaxing his ears to either side he sighed. Over there he was just an assistant, an assistant still probably in the dog-house. But over here on the Hawking, he was more or less the second in command. An interesting feeling for a young pup that had never intended to even be on a starship.

Running his claws through his silvery hair he sighed yet again. He was thirsty and tired. The last few days had been emotionally and physically stressful. Right now he just wanted to relax. He ambled over to the small bar located to the side of the room facing the open windows, hoping to find anything worth drinking.

He opened the first door to find nothing. “Figures,” he mumbled to himself.

Then the second, finding a few empty, but clean glasses. He sat them on the counter then moved to the third and final cabinet door. He looked around it for a few seconds, until his eyes caught something—could it be—yes it was: an unopened bottle of Saurian Brandy that must have been left behind by the former crew.

A most pleasing surprise indeed. “Finally something on this mission has gone right for me,” he smiled happily, showing his fangs.

But just as he prepared to open it, he realized he was due back on duty any time—being liquored up on Saurian Brandy was a one way trip to the dog pound. Still, he had found something to take home with him as a souvenir.

Smirking, he grabbed the engineering bag he had brought with him, and placed the medium sized bottle in the bag and covered it with some various engineering tools.

As Sheng-ji zipped the bag and headed back to the main bridge of the Hawking, he smirked a bit—maybe this hadn’t been as big of waste of mission as he had thought it had been. And, hey, they got the Reaent back too.

>End Log<

Welcome to STSF :)

Hope to see you arround.

;)

Heh.

Now Show me...

A picture of Nixon on "Laugh In"

I am just glad it's all over with.

Over achieving Cardnials? Grom they had the best record in the NL!

And four words for you: Curse of the Bambino.

Cards sweep in four.

Lt(jg) Sheng-ji Marish

AENG | USS Reaent

SD 0410.21

>Begin<

Leaning back into his chair on the bridge of the Hawking, Sheng-ji sighed to himself as the stars in front of him passed on the viewscreen. This has not exactly been his idea of an ideal first mission.

He had nearly destroyed his first assignment, and then lost it completely. Only to be left with a skeleton crew on a disserted vessel.

He ran his claws through his shimmering, flowing silver locks. His keen hearing could pick up al the little noises on the bridge, the very beeping of a consol, the slight shudder of a deckplate under stress of being walked on.

He contemplated his future. When the Hawking arrived at Starbase, there would be an investigation. People would ask questions, and then what?

Would he be assigned to another vessel, or would he return to Utopia Planetia? At the moment his future was very uncertain, and it disconcerting for the Young Dameon. At the 32 years old, he thought he had finally found his place in the universe, but now that had all been vanished in a few brief hours.

The great goddess was watching him, he was sure of that, but what did she have in mind for them, for him?

As he sat, absorbing the events of the past few days, he wondered where his path would take him. What the future had in store for him and the remaining crew of the USS Reaent.

He had not known many on the vessel that had simply disappeared, in fact he could only name a few officers. While he could tell many on the Hawking were shaken, to him, the loss had not actually hit him. Beyond the cost of lives, he felt disconnected from the crew. Like he wasn’t really part of it yet.

Making friends had never been something he had been able to quickly or easily, and now that opportunity wouldn’t come for sometime. He hadn’t even met his Chief, when the disaster had happened.

He looked back to the view screen. He hoped, and prayed, that the souls of the Reaent found there way home. He hoped that they cold find happiness, that they could find the great goddess.

Lowly, he repeated the ancient death rite of the Dameon.

“Neye eb he n’veris eb moryenua, eb lonar ye gurna, Lokmar n’derish rental, Marngho ebne yetle Vanteis. Ju n’Reanet koumar gurna. Aswena eb Morerrr Tye.”

(Translation: May they find the way they seek, they are far from home, overcome the dark of night, help them arise to find the sun. Lead the Reaent Home. Now they are free.)

He looked out the view screen and said lowly. “Now they are free.”

>End<

:follows a rather large tachyon field..::

 

YOU ARE WRONG FOR THAT!!.....and you know it..... :)

 

I liked it...blue nazis...what more could you want....kinda sounds like one bad mixed drink... ;)

 

::walks up to holobar:: Gimme a blue nazi..... :D

::flashes his claws:: Enterprise bah!

OCC: Thanks to Doc Smith for 'lending' himself to me :mellow:

PERSONAL LOG

Ensign Sheng-ji- Marish

AENG | USS Reaent

Stardate 0407.01

>Begin Log<

Sheng-ji was crouched in the corner in the back of sickbay. The hair on his neck was still ruffled slightly. There would just have to be Cait in sickbay wouldn’t their, the only thing worse than a Gorn was a Cait. He’d probably get fleas from her.

He tried to push the thoughts of fleas and that Caitian behind him out of his mind. He concentrated on the task at hand. Fixing the containment module and getting out of their as quick as possible.

He had ran through everything, twice. It wasn’t the field emitters, it wasn’t the power flow, he had realigned the coils twice. What in the ones’ name could it be.

Sheng-ji stopped to scratch behind his ears. The problem was most perplexing, how to fix something that wasn’t broke. Sheng-ji sighed to himself—this was not his idea of fun.

He looked down at his tool kit. Nothing there was going to fix the problem—because as far as he could tell there was nothing wrong.

For a few seconds, Sheng-ji just sat their crouched listening. His ears were filled with the sounds of Sickbay. He could hear Dr. Smith breathing; he could even hear that Cait purr ever so slightly as she went about her duties. Then something caught his attention. His hears perked up on the top of his head, the sound of the containment field. It wasn’t correct, something wasn’t right because the normally harmonious sound of pure energy wasn’t humming right. Something was wrong/

Sheng-ji turned his eyes back to open panel. There had been one part that he hadn’t looked over, mainly because he had never known that part to ever malfunction. He reached far into the back of the open panel.

He ran his fingers over the small box, as he thought one of the ODN lines was severed. The small little box was a booster box that relayed commands from the Main Computer Core, specifically information on proper field alignment. There were two ODN lines leading into it, one that controlled flow of information from the on/off button. The other from the Main Computer, and it was the one severed.

Sheng-ji turned back to his tool kit and took out a roll of ODN line. He reached back into the panel and disconnected the broken end from the relay box. He then disconnected the other end from the conduit it ran into. He connected the new set of line from the conduit to the box. He flipped the reset button on the receptacle for the Main Computer line on the Relay Box. Then he listened to the field again, ahhh the sweet sound of success.

He looked back to Dr. Smith. “Problem solved Doc.”

“Oh?” Smith said. “What was it?”

Sheng-ji held out the two broken ends of ODN line. “This ran to your Main Computer Relay box.”

“Oh? Does that happen a lot?”

“Actually that’s the first time I have ever seen something like that. But I will have to take the sample here down to ME to analyze why it snapped.”

Smith nodded. “So the field is working correct.”

“Yes.”

The happy Doctor walked over with a hypospray. “Well then, if the field is up then were good to go, let me inoculate you to be on the safe side.”

Smith pressed the hypo into Sheng-ji’s neck. “Thanks again Mr. Marish. Let me know what you find.”

“Of course.”

Sheng-ji managed a smile and got out of sickbay as quick as he could. He hadn’t been in Sickbay that long, 30 minutes at most. But it had seemed a lot longer than that. As he stepped out onto Deck 19, the ship begin to shake violently and it lurched underneath him and he found himself smacked against the wall in front of him.

He let out a small yelp. “Owhhhh”

Before he could figure out what was going on, the ship shook violently again, this time he maintained his balance, but just barely. He could hear EPS Conduits rupturing further down the corridor.

“That sounded like torpedo explosions…” he growled loudly.

As the torrid few seconds came to an end, Sheng-ji got the feeling he had better get to Engineering as he could feel the ship lurch to warp.

He made his way to a TL. “Main Engineering.”

>End Log<