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Chirakis

STSF GM
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Chirakis last won the day on December 17 2017

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  1. =/\= Aegis Mission Brief 9/14/18 - 10:00 PM=/\= 29 April 2388 - Stardate 2388.119 TBS is 1 hour. The time is 1600 hours (4:00 PM) Aegis local. Task Force Aegis is still in orbit. The red dots have left. The science probe detected an area of nothingness in the nebula. Is it null space? OPS hailed the target zone. We received an untranslatable reply. Medical has a plan of communication that they believe might work. Chirakis: =/\==/\=BEGIN SIM=/\==/\= Chirakis: =/\==/\=BEGIN SIM=/\==/\= Chirakis: :::CnC, pacing, as usual::: Dacia Sandero: ::in medical working on their project :: Fletcher Jackson: ::watching Aux OPS, just in case the dot comes back::: Jylliene: ::ponders her order for replacement carpeting for the areas that are being paced into threadbare-ness:: Kallah Ramson: ::on CnC:: Johnson Kenyon: ::tinkering in sickbay with some medical instruments:: Jylliene: ::Returns her attention to Ops:: mimipavilion: ::in medical going over the psionic verbalizer info:: Johnson Kenyon: ::Mimi:: What did they say they call that? Chirakis: ::stops at Tarisa's console:: Any success in translation? Nijil tr'Korjata: :: Where he is :: mimipavilion: ::hears Johnson:: It's a psionic verbalizer. Captain Ramson uses it to communicate with us. Jylliene: ::listening to the background of conversation and activity on the CnC:: Tarisa: ::Had just finished her data analysis when Chirakis stepped over to her.:: Actually, I think it is a corridor. Possibly to another dimension. Dacia Sandero: Interesting Cdr Wyatt Cayne: :: Makes sure the message data is loud and clear :: Tarisa: It is certainly not a natural phenomenon. Chirakis: The nothingness is a corridor? Johnson Kenyon: A psionic verbalizer? How does it work? Chirakis: To another dimension? What has led you to that conclusion, Commander? Chirakis: :::curious, she looks to Ramson and Coleridge::: Jylliene: ::just as curious:: Kallah Ramson: :: glances over:: Johnson Kenyon: The Captain uses this to communicate with us? This makes one telepathic? Cdr Wyatt Cayne: :: Searches the Starfleet database for phenomena similar to this...nothing :: Tarisa: It is simply a theory. But it seems the most possible at the moment. The idea that the unknown appeared to try and communicate with us at least seems to support the idea of it being a corridor. Jylliene: ::ponders that:: Scott Coleridge: Can we investigate this from here, or do we need to go there? Scott Coleridge: The red light was appearing here. There must be something connecting us to it. Chirakis: ::considers that for a moment, then listens to Scott::: mimipavilion: ::still looking at the information:: Ummm... it says that uses the psionic area of the brain to activate and communicate. Telepathically that is. Nijil tr'Korjata: :: In main engineering. He knows something is going on and he knows that his mate knows, but he's in the dark. Well, literally. For some reason this engineering lab has no lighting :: Tarisa: Since the station sensors by themselves could not accurately determine what was happening, I would have to suggest going there. Johnson Kenyon: Was the Captain able to communicate with you? ::scans the psionic verbalizer with a tricorder:: Kallah Ramson: <Ramson is a mute telepath. > Chirakis: :::Ramson:: Captain, the crew of Vladivostok said that the creatures that tried to help them did not speak, they hummed. Cdr Wyatt Cayne: :: Assessing the threat variable :: Chirakis: And... the report I received from Captain d'Ka said that there was no trace of them whatsoever when their teams landed on planet to rescue the crew. Jylliene: ::ponders:: Kallah Ramson: Most likely there was communication outside their hearing range. Scott Coleridge: If these are the same creatures, do we know if dispatching a ship would be considered an intrusion? Annisha: :: It was late on Volnar where the girls were staying. :: mimipavilion: ::smirks:: Ramson uses her psionic areas to use the verbalizer. Chirakis: ::looks to Scott:: Tarisa: I certainly do not suggest taking a ship into the corridor. Jylliene: ::glad to hear that:: Tarisa: But to the vicinity would be very helpful. Kallah Ramson: It seems they are try to make contact with us. Cdr Wyatt Cayne: Can we get a probe just outside the zone? Chirakis: ::nods to Tarisa:: It could be dangerous. However, yes... they seem to be trying to contact us. Johnson Kenyon: ::attempt to raise eyebrows, mimicking Vulcan:: Fascinating Johnson Kenyon: ::looking at his scan results:: Chirakis: We must keep in mind that everything we are discussing are assumptions. Tarisa: ::Nods.:: Jylliene: ::agrees:: Kallah Ramson: Then we need a way to test one or more of these assumptions. Chirakis: Another probe? Johnson Kenyon: You know, doctor, we should probably test this to see the effect while conducting medical scans Chirakis: Or taking a ship close to, but not into the nebula. Kallah Ramson: Yes, a probe but let's give this a specific task. Tarisa: I could program the probe to make an orbit around the area. We could then follow up with a starship. Chirakis: :::at a sudden awareness, she looks up::: Captain.. Kallah Ramson: Yes? Johnson Kenyon: Doctors? Chirakis: There were images that came from Vladivostok. Images of those who helped them, then disappeared. Chirakis: We have not tried to transmit images. Nijil tr'Korjata: :: After some time of tinkering, the lights in the lab came on :: mimipavilion: Good point. And see how this could be useful for communication. Chirakis: In fact.... ::moves to her console::: I have one image from Captain Belton. Chirakis: ::she pulls it up on the main screen::: Johnson Kenyon: If the Captain can use it, it would be nice to see if it could be generally used. We should first have a telepath attempt to read and communicate thoughts and use it as a baseline Chirakis: As you can see, this image seems to be a humanoid covered in some kind of cloth... mimipavilion: ::nods:: Dacia Sandero: @Alexis. ::with Miana d she Annisha :: Chirakis: It is facing the screen... Chirakis: Almost posing. Chirakis: The weapon hooked onto its hip is reversed, and not ready for use. Chirakis: And the point of the javelin-like instrument in its hand is stuck into the ground. Chirakis: And its head is slightly bowed. Chirakis: Dr. Davis said that it appeared to be less hostile and more "wanting to talk". Jylliene: ::listening and thinking:: Johnson Kenyon: :::looks at Dacia:: can we run some medical scans while you try to transmit thoughts Chirakis: Perhaps if we try to communicate with images? Tarisa: ::Curiously looking at the image. Her tail lashing back and forth as she thinks.:: Dacia Sandero: Yes sure Kallah Ramson: depending of your cultural outlook that could mean surrender, friendship, or an invitation to duel. Chirakis: Um.... Johnson Kenyon: Dr P, if you would run the scans... Chirakis: But does it make sense that they would want to duel if they tried to help the crew? mimipavilion: ::nods:: Of course. Johnson Kenyon: ::to Dacia:: I assume you have transmitted thoughts to non telepaths? Kallah Ramson: Most likely not. But what images would you suggest we send? Chirakis: Perhaps a similar one? Dacia Sandero: Not often, but I have in the past, yes. Johnson Kenyon: ::Dacia:: Is there someone we can send a message to that wouldn't mind? mimipavilion: Before we should try, I have to make sure the link is open to CnC Fletcher Jackson: ::tending to business, not really hearing the conversation::: Dacia Sandero: Hmm.. Nijil tr'Korjata: +Kenyon+ Are you alright Kenyon? mimipavilion: ::double checks the line is open:: +CnC+ Pavilion to CnC Kallah Ramson: :: pondering:: Johnson Kenyon: +Nijil+ Ensign Kenyon here. Yes, sir. I'm working with medical in sickbay Jylliene: +Mimi+ Ops here, doctor. Nijil tr'Korjata: :: Going over to communications across the station :: Chirakis: ::staring at the image onscreen::: Chirakis: Of course... neither have we tried sound. mimipavilion: +Jylliene+ Just making sure the link was open, per Captain Ramson's orders, and could let her know that we are going to have Dacia test run the verbalizer via telepathy. Kallah Ramson: :: looks to Tarisa:: Ready longer another series of probes. Rig one for communication relay. Jylliene: ::looks over to Ramson:: Doctor Pavilion is ready to test run the verbalizer. Tarisa: ::Nods as she begins setting it up.:: Chirakis: ::notices that Scott is very quiet::: Johnson Kenyon: ::to Mimi:: I thought we were going to test the psionic verbalizer after we see the results of your scans. Kallah Ramson: :: steps towards ops:: +com+ Sickbay, be aware... Without a bit of training the device can verbalize any and every passing thought. Johnson Kenyon: ::hearing the Captain:: Jylliene: ::not sure whether to be intrigued or terrified by what they might end up projecting:: mimipavilion: +Ramson+ Understood, Captain. I'll let Dacia know. Tarisa: I have 3 probes ready, one set for communications. Scott Coleridge: ::out of his depth all this speculation on communicating with aliens:: Fletcher Jackson: :::still tending to business::: Kallah Ramson: ::Tarisa:: Launch when ready Tarisa: ::Nods, launching all 3 probes.:: Kallah Ramson: ::Chirakis:: Care to pose for our first postcard? Chirakis: Postcard? Kallah Ramson: :: smiles:: Chirakis: A word from earth? mimipavilion: ::Johnson:: I thought we were going to use it while she was sending a message. Cdr Wyatt Cayne: Do we need to be closer to communicate? Chirakis: Image? Chirakis: Of course, Captain. Johnson Kenyon: ::Mimi:: It's up to you. I thought we should baseline it first without the verbalizer, but if you know what effect that has, we can move to the verbalizer mimipavilion: I think Dacia's telepathic baseline on file. But one of us can double check before starting. Chirakis: :::pulls her d'ktagh and a phaser, she places the phaser backwards in its holder and holds the d'ktagh pointed down, her head bowed:: Chirakis: ::but only slightly::: Fletcher Jackson: :::blinks at the captain's pose:: Tarisa: ::Curious glance at the display.:: Johnson Kenyon: ::Mimi:: that makes sense... I'm ready when you two are mimipavilion: ::nods:: Johnson Kenyon: ::sitting at a console to await the results:: Kallah Ramson: ::Tarisa:: how long till the probe is in range to transmit? Cdr Wyatt Cayne: :: Is unsure what the rest are doing, or how they are planning further communication :: mimipavilion: ::pulls up Dacia's file and looks at her telepathic baseline:: Chirakis: ::is waiting:: Dacia Sandero: I'm ready as well Jylliene: ::listening:: Kallah Ramson: ::ops:: capture an image of her so she's not stuck like that. Kallah Ramson: :: smile:: Jylliene: ::captures:: Done. Chirakis: ::holding her position, but if it were not the captain, she would have some questionable words to voice::: Tarisa: The probes have just entered range. Chirakis: ::Jylliene:: Thank you, Commander. Jylliene: ::nods to Chirakis:: Of course, ma'am. Kallah Ramson: Transit the image Chirakis: :::returns the objects to their proper places::: Cdr Wyatt Cayne: Probe communication frequencies stable. Jylliene: ::prepares the image for use:: Johnson Kenyon: ::gives the thumbs-up sign to Mimi::: Dacia Sandero: ::nods:: mimipavilion: ::looks at Johnson and Dacia:: I got the info I need, Dacia would you like to practice a bit with the verbalizer, the captain said without it any and every passing thought will be verbalized Dacia Sandero: Ok sure Chirakis: (Is there a designated target for the verbalizer?) Johnson Kenyon: I think Dacia would have a better chance at determining what she transmits than non telepaths Nijil tr'Korjata: :: Messages Jylliene about dinner :: Jylliene: ::glances, ponders; sends reply:: Johnson Kenyon: (If Dacia has chosen a target, she hasn't mentioned it) mimipavilion: The question is who is she wants to transmit to. Fletcher Jackson: :::turns back to his duties:: Tarisa: :;Watches as the probes begins to make their respective orbits.:: Jylliene: Image has been transmitted, watching for response. Dacia Sandero: ::choosing a suitable target.. Whatever it is:: Fletcher Jackson: :::looks up::: What? mimipavilion: ::keeps an eye on Dacia:: Chirakis: ACTION> The probe receives a strange message from "beyond" Fletcher Jackson: ::turns to Jylliene:: Ma'am, you needed something? Tarisa: :;Perks up.:: We are getting a response. Jylliene: No.. ::confused, to Fletcher:: Kallah Ramson: ( the device turns psionic thought into words. Target would be anyone in hearing distance) Fletcher Jackson: Uh... okay, ma'am. Just thought I heard someone call. Chirakis: ACTION> An image emerges from the probe and shows onscreen. Chirakis: ACTION> It is the same image that came from Vladivostok. Jylliene: We have a response. Jylliene: ::puts the image onscreen:: Cdr Wyatt Cayne: :: Looks :: Kallah Ramson: Well, at know who we're dealing with at least Chirakis: ::looks up::stunned::: Chirakis: =/\==/\=PAUSE SIM=/\==/\= Chirakis: =/\==/\=PAUSE SIM=/\==/\= Chirakis: 9/14/18 Chirakis: Thank you. Chirakis: Captain, TBS? Kallah Ramson: short Chirakis: And how short would short be? Chirakis: 5 minutes? Ten? Kallah Ramson: 10 Chirakis: Ten minutes. Words for the crew? Kallah Ramson: none Chirakis: Commander? Chirakis: Questions or comments from the crew? Nijil tr'Korjata: So are people supposed to submit a picture of what they think we are seeing on screen? Chirakis: I suppose you could. Chirakis: If you remember the image that came from Vladivostok. Chirakis: I will reprint the original log from that era and send it out tomorrow. Chirakis: Crew dismissed. Be well. Be Safe. Don’t forget your towel.
  2. Mission Brief | Sky Harbor Aegis | 14 September 2018 29 April 2388 - Stardate 2388.119 TBS is 1 hour. The time is 1600 hours (4:00 PM) Aegis local. Over the last 12 hours, we have been stymied by a red dot that appeared on Mission Operations consoles on Aegis and USS Missouri. Although it—or something that was controlling it—seemed to be trying to communicate, it never succeeded. To facilitate the communication, medical has been working on communication via enhanced telepathy by using a psionic verbalizer. Meanwhile, science’s long-range probe detected a void of nothingness in a perimeter around the dot, “...no life signs, no debris, no space dust, just nothing.” Was this a pocket of null space, or some kind of buffer between our space and another space? A conduit between areas of space? A conduit between universes? Since this particular area of space—nebula 236a—is known to trap ships and cause disruptions in communication and navigation, it is possible that we might be dealing with null space. Captain Ramson requested Ops to send a hail towards the target location, using a basic language code. Whatever “it” is sent a response, but the code is untranslatable. At sim begin we are still working to solve the conundrum.
  3. =/\= Aegis Mission Brief 9/7/18 =/\= 29 April 2388 - Stardate 2388.119 TBS is 2 hours. The time is 1400 hours (2:00 PM) Aegis local. Task Force Aegis is in defensive orbit. Aegis OPS console is still blinking its irregular red dot pattern. Reports from science, medical, and security should be ready for Captain Ramson and Commander Coleridge. Chirakis: =/\==/\=BEGIN SIM=/\==/\= Chirakis: =/\==/\=BEGIN SIM=/\==/\= Kallah Ramson: ::on CnC:: Jylliene: ::CnC:: Chirakis: ::exiting her office, into the command lift::: CnC Scott Coleridge: ::on the CnC, having updated Ramson on the outcome of their meeting:: KelsaViegnor: ::taking a late lunch at a table near the corridor, watching folks walk by as they head to wherever they're going:: Dacia Sandero: ::in sickbay:: Chirakis: ::exiting the lift, she pauses for threat assessment::: Tarisa: ::Enters CnC, going to her station.:: Jylliene: ::nods to Chirakis, hearing the lift:: mimipavilion: ::in medical with Dacia and Johnson, finishing up the report, with a set of symbol pictures:: Johnson Kenyon: ::in sickbay with Mimi and Dacia:: Dacia Sandero: ::looking over the report and pictures:: Chirakis: ::nods to Kital:: Alexis McFarland: @ ::looking at some growing tube root plants:: Chirakis: ::approaching Ramson and Coleridge with her information, she waits for their conversation to end::: Johnson Kenyon: I think we should use pictures of humanoids Kallah Ramson: ::turns to Chirakis:: Chirakis: ::polite nod::: Captain, a report on the possibilities of our red dot friend. ::Hands her the PADD::: mimipavilion: ::nods:: I hope this meets both of your approval before I take it to the CnC. I did include pictures of humanoids. Dacia Sandero: Makes sense to me. Kallah Ramson: ::takes padd:: Kallah Ramson: ::looking the data over:: Johnson Kenyon: I see it now... Dacia Sandero: ::looks:: Chirakis: ::standing there in case she needs to clarify::: Kallah Ramson: ::glances up at Chirakis then hands to padd to Scott:: Kallah Ramson: Opinion on this intel? Annisha: @ :: Night is beginning to settle on Volnar. The girls are getting situated into their room. The bugs are starting to make a racket :: Chirakis: Excellent, Captain. Kallah Ramson: ::directed to both Chirakis and Scott:: Johnson Kenyon: ::pictures of ordinary humanoid things... chair, table, people, stars:: Chirakis: If that is what you refer to. Alexis McFarland: @Night sure comes in early on this planet. Chirakis: It is only supposition at the moment. We should know more when science has its probe ready. Cdr Wyatt Cayne: :: At his post, watching the scanners :: Alexis McFarland: @How do timezones work? Tarisa: ::Logs into her console, bringing up a program. Perks up:: The probe is ready now. Tarisa: @ Miana> ::Ears twitch at the sound of the bugs.:: Alexis McFarland: @ ::changed into her PJs and jumps on her bed:: Chirakis: ::half-turn to Tarisa::: Johnson Kenyon: ::examining the report, looks to Mimi:: At least I'm junior enough... Annisha: @ Grandma said a day is 26 and a half of our hours. Kallah Ramson: ::looks to Tarisa then back to Chirakis:: Then let's see what we can see. Scott Coleridge: ::Ramson:: I suppose it's a consideration. But it seems like a stretch to me without anything more to go on. Fletcher Jackson: :::exits the lift and makes a beeline to Aux OPS::: mimipavilion: ::nods:: true Jylliene: ::does her other work, turning over possibilities in the back of her mind:: Chirakis: ::Scott:: Agreed. Fletcher Jackson: ::logs on, expecting to see a red dot::: Cdr Wyatt Cayne: :: Looks over the flight paths of each of the ships in the sector :: Fletcher Jackson: ::but... it's not there::: Johnson Kenyon: ::Dacia:: Aren't you Betazed? Is there anyway we can communicate telepathically? Fletcher Jackson: ::broad grin and he settles in::: Kallah Ramson: ::turns:: If your probe is in order, you may launch when ready. mimipavilion: ::looks at the two, then to Dacia:: How would you two feel having telepathic communications as a back-up plan? Dacia Sandero: Yes, I'm Betazoid. I haven't really picked up anything from it, but we can try. Tarisa: :;Nods, launching the probe.:: Probe away. Dacia Sandero: :It could work. Kallah Ramson: Hopefully it's guidance system doesn't get as turned around as we did. Alexis McFarland: @ Hmm. ::lays down next to Miana:: Johnson Kenyon: ::Dacia:: Is there anyway to extend your telepathic range with technology or drugs that could allow you to attempt communication from here? KelsaViegnor: ::considering new ideas for the shop:: mimipavilion: ::listens in:: Nijil tr'Korjata: :: Still thinking about the news of his position, and how could he have missed it? He knew the workload got more than one engineer could handle, so he had others off-load the work :: Annisha: @ :: Buzzing gets suddenly louder at the window... a bug, as big as Annisha's head, buts into the window pane: Bizzz! :: Ah! :: jumps back :: Chirakis: :::she steps back to her console and logs in::: Alexis McFarland: @ Whoa! Tarisa: @ Miana> ::Shoots up at the loud buzzing. Tail poofs.:: Alexis McFarland: @ ::hugs Miana:: What was that? Chirakis: ::also monitoring the probe and checking the most recent reports from the area::: Tarisa: @ Miana> It was so loud. mimipavilion: I don't want to overload Dacia with too much drugs. ::looks at Dacia:: I'm sure you agree. Tarisa: ::Watching the trajectory of the probe.:: Dacia Sandero: Uh, there is some technology we can use to amplify telepathic range yes. Annisha: @ :: Just as suddenly, an azure beam hits the bug, killing it before it even hits the ground :: Dacia Sandero: Yes, I think using drugs should be an absolute last resort Chirakis: ::curious as to how nebulae distort guidance systems and communications::: Tarisa: @ Miana> ::yelps at the beam.:: mimipavilion: ::nods:: Maybe we should consider some other telepaths as part of our plan. Alexis McFarland: @ Are all the bugs so big on this planet? I'm glad they only come out at night. Johnson Kenyon: It's just that Commander Coleman suggested telepathy is a possibility for us to consider? Dacia Sandero: Yes, I agree with that. Johnson Kenyon: Additional telepaths can augment their range? Dacia Sandero: And it certainly is, if this red light is sentient. ::to Johnson:: It depends on the person, but yes. Tarisa: The probe is almost within scanning range of the target. mimipavilion: ::nods to Dacia, then to Kenyon:: Plus we don't want to overwork one telepath as well. Dacia Sandero: Yes, it'd be easier to spread it out. Cdr Wyatt Cayne: :: Watching the scans :: Area around probe is clear. Chirakis: ::looks up, watching the main screen as the probe moves::: Alexis McFarland: @ ::next to Miana:: Buggy. Annisha: @ They said they will carry away naughty kids.. :: looks at the bug on the ground :: You think all of them? Kallah Ramson: ::pondering on the intel, but keeping an ear open as the probe data comes in:: Tarisa: Any moment.... :;Gets a beep.:: mimipavilion: ::takes the Padd with the Symbol Plan and adds the backup Telepath Plan to it:: Alexis McFarland: @ You'd better watch out then, Annisha. Johnson Kenyon: Do we have additional telepaths who would agree to help? Fletcher Jackson: ::continues working::: Tarisa: ::Gives a curious look at her console.:: There is nothing... Dacia Sandero: We have many telepaths on the station. I'm sure we can get a few to agree to help. How many do you think we'd need? Tarisa: @ Miana> ::Covers up in her sheet.:: Eeep! Annisha: @ :: smirks :: Ie Ie... Chirakis: ::looks to Tarisa:: Nothing? Jylliene: ::glances up at the big screen, back and forth to her own console:: mimipavilion: I think this will be a very good start for us. ::thinks:: Probably another 4 or 5. Johnson Kenyon: it's worth a shot... Tarisa: ::Nods.:: There is a void of nothingness in a perimeter around where the dot should be. Chirakis: ::to all::: How is that possible? Johnson Kenyon: I have no idea what range a telepath might have to begin with... it would be nice if we could gauge that and, at the same time, see if I can rig up something to extend it with tech Tarisa: No lifesigns, no debris, space dust. Just nothing. :;Shakes her head.:: I do not know. Dacia Sandero: I guess I can be your guinea pig. Jylliene: Shielding? Cloaking? Tarisa: There are no power sources. Cdr Wyatt Cayne: The scans of the probe match our long range scans of the area. Alexis McFarland: @ ::holds Miana:: Those bugs won't get you. Nijil tr'Korjata: :: Looking up the record of Kenyon :: Jylliene: That we can sense. Could that be internal, within the perimeter and itself shielded from view as well? Scott Coleridge: And the mystery deepens. Jylliene: ::referring to the lack of power sources:: Chirakis: Indeed. Cdr Wyatt Cayne: Cloaked... or something I believe called null space? Johnson Kenyon: Doctors, isn't there some medical records on this sort of thing? Chirakis: ::looks to Scott and Ramson, remembering the Vladivostok's rescue::: Tarisa: :;Console beeps again.:: The probe is approaching the void... ::Frowns.:: It is now gone. Dacia Sandero: ::looks over to Mimi:: Hmm.. Chirakis: ::Cayne:: Null space? Johnson Kenyon: you know, the area of the brain that is most active when you send and receive mental messages. Tarisa: No signal. Chirakis: Gone where? mimipavilion: ::nods:: If there is nothing else, I will take this ::waves PADD:: to the CnC. And I will let you two figure out the tech to help extend the telepathic range. ::Dacia:: We'll have to look into who has a reasonable telepathic range. Cdr Wyatt Cayne: The USS Enterprise reported entering a pocket of is some years ago. Dacia Sandero: ::nods:: Yes, indeed. Tarisa: It vanished. I am no longer detecting any traces of the probe. mimipavilion: ::thinks:: That is a good question. Chirakis: ::stunned::: Cdr Wyatt Cayne: A cloak would be an artificial means of disappearance, Pockets of null space are natural, as far as we know, Kallah Ramson: ::looks around CnC:: Thoughts? Annisha: @ :: Goes to Miana :: Don't like bugs? Tarisa: @ Miana> They are creepy... Jylliene: ::shakes her head, at a loss:: Alexis McFarland: @ I don't really like them either. Chirakis: I have no idea, Captain, except for the report I gave you from Captain d'Ka. Chirakis: ::to anyone:: Is it possible to exist in null space? Johnson Kenyon: I'm not sure what medical devices are used to detect brain waves, but I wonder if we can focus and send them... just a thought. Tarisa: I am unsure how to classify this. Scott Coleridge: The null space itself might be some kind of buffer between our space and another space. Chirakis: ::Scott:: A conduit between universes? Kallah Ramson: Might explain somethings. Jylliene: ::figures it's as good a possibility as any:: Dacia Sandero: @ There's a wide variety of equipment that can, even tricorders can be configured to detect brain waves. mimipavilion: Ok, what about an EEG Jylliene: ::startles slightly:: The red dot is gone. Dacia Sandero: That'd certainly work. Fletcher Jackson: ::blink turn::: Johnson Kenyon: An EEG, if I remember, simply measures the electrical brain activity Kallah Ramson: ::turns to ops:: Annisha: @ Anyone here that? Jylliene: ::stares at her console, waiting to see if it returns:: Tarisa: @ Miana> ::Ears perk up.:: Alexis McFarland: @is it bugs? mimipavilion: True, but it's a start Jylliene: ::looks up at the screen:: Look - the void's closing. Dacia Sandero: ::Nods;: Chirakis: ::looks up::: Cdr Wyatt Cayne: Null space was investigated with a shuttle craft, but I'd not want to live there. Jylliene: ::glances back and forth between her console and the screen:: Tarisa: :;Watches.:: Chirakis: ::Cayne::: Agreed. Johnson Kenyon: In order to send a signal from someone's brain, I'll have to know not only the current, but more importantly, the frequency Kallah Ramson: Still no energy source readings? Chirakis: ::she takes a deep breath with a slow exhale:: Tarisa: :;Shakes head.:: No. It is possible the energy being used is on the other side of the void.' Johnson Kenyon: ::assuming a medical panel:: computer, bring up research into telepathic brain frequency. mimipavilion: ::Johnson and Dacia:: See what else that can be set up as well with the EEG, then once I return, Dacia we'll pull up your recent brain waves from your last physical and do another scan for comparison, then we'll run a test to see what happens. Chirakis: Interesting. Annisha: @ Bizzt! :: gooses Miana :: Kallah Ramson: So nothing is shielding our view of something. Always fun when first contact involves relearning the basic laws of physics. Johnson Kenyon: Sounds good. and Good luck. Dacia Sandero: Yes, sure Tarisa: @ Miana> Eeep! ::Ducks under the covers again.:: Jylliene: ::slight chuckle:: Chirakis: True. And a lesson to be learned when we are on the opposite side of first contact. mimipavilion: ::nods:: I'll be back ::exits medical via tl and orders it to CnC:: Annisha: @ :: Listens to the bugs :: I hope I can sleep.. Chirakis: And....:::moves back to her console::: apparently we are not under attack. mimipavilion: ::arrives on the CnC a short time later:: Cdr Wyatt Cayne: Sending the probe only got us more questions. Jylliene: That is a good thing. Johnson Kenyon: ::to Dacia:: I'm surprised no one has come up with this idea before... Kallah Ramson: ::turns towards her command console:: Going on the assumption that this is first contact.... Ops. Send a hail towards the target location. Basic language code. See if they can figure out how to say hello while we do the same for them. mimipavilion: ::looks around the CnC, plan in hand:: Jylliene: ::nods:: Yes ma'am. Chirakis: ::turns, hearing the lift, and waves Mimi over:: Jylliene: ::sends out the hail:: Dacia Sandero: Yeah, the thought never came up. Though something like this doesn't happen everyday mimipavilion: ::sees Chirakis wave her over and heads in her direction:: Chirakis: ::motions toward Ramson::: Kallah Ramson: ::Scott:: On the chance that this is some natural phenomenon.... what can we do to protect ourselves if that null space was to open up on top of us? mimipavilion: ::nods and heads over to Ramson:: Fletcher Jackson: ::slowly returning to his work::: (w) Pray. Johnson Kenyon: here's something ::looking at the computer display:: a telepathic amplifier Kallah Ramson: ::turns to Mimi:: doctor. Fletcher Jackson: ::shudders:: Johnson Kenyon: it's an alien device that was used by the first warp capable Enterprise mimipavilion: ::stops in front of her rather concerned:: Apparently I missed the show. Anyways, our report on communication. Tarisa: Special shielding perhaps. mimipavilion: ::hands the PADD over:: Kallah Ramson: What do you have. Johnson Kenyon: there is no mention of how it works Kallah Ramson: ::takes padd:: mimipavilion: Basic symbols to start with, as well as a back-up plan with telepathy. Kallah Ramson: ::nods:: We are sending language code now. mimipavilion: ::nods:: Kallah Ramson: ::hands the padd back:: You're free to use the data you have on my psionic verbalizer on the telepathy angle. Johnson Kenyon: ::to Dacia:: I am surprised this has not been a subject of research on Vulcan or Betazed mimipavilion: ::takes the PADD:: Understood captain mimipavilion: ::makes note of the psionic verbalizer:: Cdr Wyatt Cayne: We do not know if we will get a response back Dacia Sandero: ::nods:: I'm sure the Vulcans might have, being how analytical they are but yeah, nothing that I've found about it. mimipavilion: Anything else sir. Johnson Kenyon: Maybe the Vulcans are a little secretive when it comes to their telepathy Kallah Ramson: ::mimi:: no, just keep a line open between your team and CnC. Chirakis: (two minutes) mimipavilion: ::Nods:: Understood. If you'll excuse me. Johnson Kenyon: I assume Betazoids don't really need to extend their range on a planet of telepaths Dacia Sandero: Yeah, I'm sure. Dacia Sandero: Yes, you're correct. We Betazeds never had a need to boost our telepathic range and thus haven't really researched into it. Alexis McFarland: @::Suggles Miana:: Chirakis: ACTION> The code initiates a response, but it is untranslatable. Chirakis: =/\==/\=PAUSE SIM=/\==/\= Chirakis: 9/7/18 Chirakis: Thank you. Chirakis: Interesting. Chirakis: Captain, TBS? Chirakis: Long enough for word to get out and a few logs written? Kallah Ramson: maybe an hour to study the response. Chirakis: Excellent. Chirakis: Words for the crew? Kallah Ramson: none Chirakis: Commander? Scott Coleridge: No Chirakis: Any questions or comments from the crew? Chirakis: Seeing none... Chirakis: Crew dismissed. Be well. Be Safe. Don’t forget your towel.
  4. Congratulations on Sim #1000. May you enjoy 1,000 more!
  5. Wrapped in an Enigma “ Captain, I know you said your contacts are in the dark. But at least with Missouri, try to discover why we are the only two places experiencing this.” ~Commander Scott Coleridge In the relative quiet of the Security Complex, Kirel paged through her files, looking for information that would point to the commander’s request: discover why Aegis and USS Missouri are the only two places that have experienced the “red dot” phenomenon, and why it insisted on using the Mission Operations console exclusively. She looked up to study one of the many screens that decorated her office, the screen focused on Nebula 236A. A mark just to the left of mid-screen highlighted the red dot’s location within the nebula. The red dot never moved from those coordinates, but it did move from one console to the other. It followed a live Mission Operations screen. Mission Operations focused on external communication: communication between Aegis and starships in the vicinity. Internal Operations—also known as Aux OPS—focused on communication within the station. A dissimilarity. A valuable dissimilarity that could be the reason for the red dot to focus on External Communications. In other words, something out there could easily be trying to communicate with Aegis and/or Missouri. Pushing away from her desk, Kirel began to pace, which helped her think. After pacing for some time, she decided to break a promise she made to herself long ago. She needed assistance, and she knew where to get it. As much as she disliked telepathic conversation, sometimes it had its perks. “Kh’éile,” she mentally called to her bondmate, Je'rit d'Ka, who busied himself with the same puzzle on USS Missouri. “Are you occupied at the moment?” After a few moments of silence, “Not especially,” he responded. “A question regarding your ability, kh’éile. Are you sensing anything from Nebula 236A?” Again, a few moments of silence delayed his response. “I will tell you what I told Captain Ramson, and that is that I sense something, but nothing that gives us information.” She paused in her pacing to stare at the screen. “You sense something but you do not know what it is?” “Correct. I can only describe it as being filtered from full communication. Blocked, you might say.” “But you still hear, sense, and feel everything else?” She sensed a snort, then a wry smile as he shook his head. “More than I ever wish to hear, sense, and feel, kh’éile. The price I pay for agreeing to command a predominantly human crew.” “Do you sense a threat?” “None at all.” Over the next half hour, she and Captain d’Ka exchanged information and gathered some very interesting material. Nebula 236A was not an ordinary nebula, it furnished a conduit from Breen space to reclusive communities just outside the space claimed by the Joint Allied Powers. USS Missouri led Task Force Aegis and kept outsiders at bay and generally away from unwanted groups—especially black marketeers and the like—out of Joint Allied space. Nebula 236A was also known for unpredictable nebular and electromagnetic shifts that drew ships off course. It had been assumed that the exploratory science vessel, USS Vladivostok, was drawn off course within the nebula. They were captured by a rogue group and left to die on a barren planetoid while the rogues took the ship into Breen space. Vladivostok’s crew was subsequently found and rescued by two elements of USS Missouri’s Special Operations. “Yes, I remember that well,” Kirel said. The she asked, “How did they survive in such a forbidding atmosphere with so little to keep them alive?” There came a very long pause, during which Kirel could feel his slow mental shift to intense focus. “They were kept alive by a group of strange aliens who did not speak, nor did they show their true nature. They were completely covered with cloth. According to their physician, the aliens tried to feed them, but they could barely stomach what they were fed. Also….” He paused again, sorting through his thoughts. “Kh’éile, they saved the lives of some of the crew who had gravely ill from malnourishment and exposure to the elements.” Kirel waited, expecting more, then asked, “And the Special Operations elements that rescued them? Did they see the aliens? Were they able to tell more?” “No,” he said after a pensive pause. “Kh’éile, they never saw the aliens. The aliens left no trace. Not a print in the snow that showed a ship landing or leaving. USS Ramius was monitoring external starship movement during the operation, and they detected no ship leaving. It was as though the aliens had ever been there.”
  6. Mission Brief | Sky Harbor Aegis | 7 September 2018 29 April 2388 - Stardate 2388.119 TBS is 2 hours. The time is 1400 hours (2:00 PM) Aegis local. The strange red dot continues to flash while we hunt for answers. Commander Coleridge outlined three phenomena for exploration: The communications and navigation issues in proximity to the nebula; Our Ops station experiencing the red light; USS Missouri reporting a similar blinking light. Regarding the light: Aegis sensors have not found anything unusual. The light appears to come from the vicinity of Nebula 236A. Attempts to communicate with it via code have failed so far. The communications array seems to be the light’s target. There is a possibility that the light could be from a creature, an artificial intelligence, or something else that is attempting to reach out. Commander Coleridge ordered the following: Science will configure and send a probe toward the light. Medical will focus on trying other methods of communication, such as telepathic and symbolic. Security will try to discover why Aegis and USS Missouri are the only ones experiencing the light.
  7. =/\= Aegis Mission Brief 8/31/18 =/\= 29 April 2388 - Stardate 2388.119 TBS is zero. The time is 1100 hours (11:00 AM) Aegis local. Task Force Aegis is in defensive orbit. Ships entering a zone near nebula 236A experience communication and navigation disruption. A warning has been broadcast to that sector. Aegis OPS console is still blinking its irregular red dot pattern. Commander Coleridge is about to call a command meeting. Captain Ramson is stuck in her office with SF Command. . Chirakis: =/\==/\=BEGIN SIM=/\==/\= Chirakis: =/\==/\=BEGIN SIM=/\==/\= Chirakis: ::CnC, checking situational readiness::: mimipavilion: ::on the CnC:: Dacia Sandero: ::in sickbay:: Fletcher Jackson: :::OPS, watching the red dot dance::: Alexis McFarland: @ ::on the planet, watching the cows:: Johnson Kenyon: ::CnC, testing the OPS console after returning it to normal:: Tarisa: @ Miana> :;Playfully chasing what might be a chicken.:: Tarisa: ::On CnC, at her console.:: Scott Coleridge: ::surveying the action on the CnC, pondering, as Captain Ramson has retired to her office to consult with SF Command:: Chirakis: :::attempting to sort out the information they have, and so far is getting nowhere::: mimipavilion: ::observing:: Scott Coleridge: ::can tell that everyone is pursuing their own leads but seems to be getting nowhere fast:: Chirakis: ::her eyes wander and they end up staring at the main tactical screen as she tries to make sense of the situation... if there is even a situation:: Scott Coleridge: ::clears his throat:: Ahem. Chirakis: ::Turns to the Cdr::: Fletcher Jackson: ::looks up::: Scott Coleridge: It appears that we have quite the mystery on our hands. mimipavilion: ::looks at Scott:: Johnson Kenyon: ::wondering why the restored console configured for OPS doesn't have the red light:: Nijil tr'Korjata: :: Enters the conference room :: Alexis McFarland: @ ::reaches out her hand and pets one of the 'cows':: Scott Coleridge: You have 5 minutes to gather what data you have about this anomaly, and then I want all senior staff to meet in the conference room. ::Jackson:: Make sure anyone not in the CnC is notified, please. And Ensign Kenyon, since you've literally taken that station apart with your bare hands, you're invited too. Fletcher Jackson: Aye, Commander. Fletcher Jackson: ::checks to see that Main OPS is fixed and moves over after logging out and then logging in::: Johnson Kenyon: ::looks up at Coleridge:: Aye, sir Tarisa: ::Grabs a PADD and steps away from her console. Goes to the conference room.:: Fletcher Jackson: ::he looks up and... :: Fletcher Jackson: ::mutters something about a red flashing light that won't go away::: Johnson Kenyon: ::stands and walks to the conference room:: Scott Coleridge: ::takes some time to gather his own observations, then heads for the conference room:: Fletcher Jackson: +All Hands+ All command staff, report to the Main Conference Room in 3 minutes. I say again, all command staff, report to the Main Conference Room. That is all. mimipavilion: ::heads into the conference room:: Nijil tr'Korjata: :: Already sitting in the conference room :: Dacia Sandero: ::Looks up and hears the comm:: Well.. ::heads to the conference room:: Cdr Wyatt Cayne: :: Makes his way to the conference room :: Alexis McFarland: @ It's like petting a sofa. Chirakis: :::walking toward the room, he glances at Jackson::: Take the con Tarisa: :;Takes a seat.:: Johnson Kenyon: ::sitting next to Nijil:: Greetings Subcommander Fletcher Jackson: ::turns, blinks::: Yes, ma'am. I have the con. Annisha: @ :: Watches the animals. She was not told of the animals, just the plants. There were crops as far as her tiny eyes could see :: Dacia Sandero: ::makes her way to the conference room and takes a seat:: Scott Coleridge: ::standing at the head of the table, waiting for everyone to arrive:: Tarisa: @ Miana> ::Gives up on chasing the chicken. She goes to Alexis, and starts petting the cow too.:: Ooohh... mimipavilion: ::takes a seat:: Nijil tr'Korjata: :: Nods :: Ie, good.. afternoon. :: Looks for his padd :: Oh, morning. Dacia Sandero: ::nods hello to everyone:: Chirakis: ::quietly strides to her chair and waits for the Commander to sit::: Cdr Wyatt Cayne: :: Sits opposite Nijil :: SubCommander.. Johnson Kenyon: ::feeling privileged:: Nijil tr'Korjata: Cayne, err Commander Cayne. Scott Coleridge: ::sits down and looks around the table, expression pensive but not dour:: The purpose of this meeting is to summarize what we've discovered so far, then focus our line of inquiry in the hopes of getting more clear answers. Fletcher Jackson: # ::CnC, watching the red flashing light::: Aye... aye aye... Chirakis: ::sits::: Alexis McFarland: @ ::looks at all the crops as well:: Scott Coleridge: We seem to have three phenomena: first, there was the communications issues in proximity to the nebula; then, our ops station began to experience the red light; finally, Missouri has reported a similar blinking light. Scott Coleridge: It's not a huge leap to think the last two phenomena are related, but we don't know if that's true or how. And are they related to the first phenomenon? ::shrugs:: Scott Coleridge: ::Tarisa:: Have sensors turned up anything unusual? mimipavilion: ::listens:: Dacia Sandero: ::contemplates this new information:: Tarisa: ::Shakes her head and frowns.:: No. I have tried numerous spectrums, and have nothing. Johnson Kenyon: ::listening:: Scott Coleridge: What about our attempts to "communicate" with the light? Chirakis: ::ponders... communications...OPS... red blinking light.... what else is there.. there must be something else.... something else:::: Nijil tr'Korjata: I am starting to dig into the root code of the sensor and ops station. So far the red light does not correspond to a known sensor reading. I'd hate to think Starfleet Intelligence, Tal Shiar or other agencies are planting some kind of unknown code, Dacia Sandero: ::hopefully not Blinded by the Light:: Chirakis: ::slight snort and half grin as she turns to Scott:: Commander, if I may? Nijil tr'Korjata: The Nie'rrh should take a look, being the only pure Rihan tech at our disposal. mimipavilion: ::still thinking it's an alien of some kind:: Annisha: @ :: Looking into the distance to see a fleet of drones over the crops :: Scott Coleridge: ::Chirakis:: you may Alexis McFarland: @ ::Walks next to Annisha:: What do those drones do? Chirakis: I can assure you that neither SF Intel nor the Tal Shiar are involved in this. They are just a puzzled as we are. Johnson Kenyon: ::this is a lot more involved than I thought... Rihan here?:: Chirakis: ::Nijil:: As for your idea, SubCommander, it is an excellent idea, but I personally would not recommend sending any vessels into that area until we can find out more. It is only my opinion, however, and subject to command decision. Annisha: @ I think they provide rain...or maybe they zap bugs. Johnson Kenyon: ::lifting his fingers as a way of raising his hand:: Nijil tr'Korjata: How do we not find out more without sending a vessel? Alexis McFarland: @ Bug. Tarisa: @ Miana> ::Watching the drones.:: There must be some big bugs... Chirakis: That is an excellent question. And that is part of what we are discussing at the moment. Tarisa: I agree with the Sub Commander. I feel we are at the limit of what the station sensors can provide. Cdr Wyatt Cayne: Probes would be our next step, but automated...stealth. Chirakis: :::ponders that::: Alexis McFarland: @ Did your grandparents say when they got the animals? Chirakis: Why stealth? Dacia Sandero: ::listens quietly:: Johnson Kenyon: ::moving his fingers up higher:: Cdr Wyatt Cayne: Don't want to tip our hand at the poker table. Chirakis: True. Chirakis: ::looks to Scott::: Nijil tr'Korjata: Mr. Kenyon, I presume your examination of the operations console revealed no technical issues that could account for this...dot? Johnson Kenyon: Subcommander, umm, thanks for asking. I was able to isolate the signal to the communications array, but otherwise everything was working as normal... Oh and I learned this red blinking dot only appears on one console at a time Johnson Kenyon: at least that was my assessment Chirakis: (w) Interesting. mimipavilion: ::hears Mr. Kenyon's assessment:: Is it possible that it isn't a typical spacial anomaly, but maybe a spacial creature? Just a thought. Chirakis: A spacial creature? Scott Coleridge: A creature that has to find a way to reach out that manifests right now as this light... Chirakis: Hm... mimipavilion: Yes Scott Coleridge: If that's the case, maybe there is a more effective way to communicate Johnson Kenyon: Could it be artificial intelligence? Nijil tr'Korjata: I would think if the dot was something like what we are saying we'd get more than just a dot. Chirakis: ::Nijil:: Explain. mimipavilion: True, how long did it take us to understand our friend Shadow. Chirakis: 10:45 PM Johnson Kenyon: ::to Nijil:: When I cut off the power to the OPS console, relay by relay, it wasn't till it was nearly completed disconnected that it disappeared and reappeared on another console Nijil tr'Korjata: A dot on the screen is the simplest indicator I know. In starfleet terms it's a color denoting a warning. Chirakis: ::slow nod::: Johnson Kenyon: ::thinking:: Alexis McFarland: @ ::pets Miana;; Scott Coleridge: How can we test our hypotheses? Nijil tr'Korjata: If it's a form of communication the message is very vague. The moving to another console makes no sense. Could it be something in both systems? Johnson Kenyon: ::a warning that moves from console to console to ensure it is seen?:: Annisha: @ :: laughs :: She's not a cat.. I mean she's a felinoid, but not a cat. :: pets Miana :: Right Miana? Tarisa: @ Miana> ::Purrs as she watches the chicken birds again.:: Johnson Kenyon: ::to Nijil:: I have only seen it on one console at a time, but I have not conducted an exhaustive search:: Alexis McFarland: @ So soft though Nijil tr'Korjata: An internal scan should be performed on the station. Tarisa: @ Miana> Is is the shampoo I use. ::grins.:: Chirakis: Another thought is that red is the color that travels the farthest in space. That may or may not have a connection. Annisha: @ Meow and Shoulders? Tarisa: @ Miana> :;Giggles.:: No. Alexis McFarland: @ ::giggles:: Cdr Wyatt Cayne: The red is only the indicator color and not that from a long range sensor reading? Chirakis: Commander, I believe that Commander Cayne's idea of sending a probe could be our first step. Cdr Wyatt Cayne: Could this be a Pathfinder type of issue, with an itinerant pulsar acting as a subspace lens? Chirakis: ::nods to Cayne, understanding his last::: Johnson Kenyon: I think the fact that it is sending a message that is persistent enough to be seen, says there is some underlying intelligence... Scott Coleridge: So I'm hearing that we should investigate with a probe, conduct a more thorough scan of the station, and explore other communication options Chirakis: ::nods:: Nijil tr'Korjata: :: nods :: Right, and consider the install of an even newer sensor station...I'm sure science would appreciate it. Johnson Kenyon: ::thinking about itinerant pulsars.. wondering if possible for something to reflect back a signal like an echo to appear to be from life:: Scott Coleridge: I think we have the resources to explore all three options Annisha: @ :: Breathes in deeply :: Smell that air. This place is warm. Scott Coleridge: Keeping in mind that if this is the result of an alien intelligence trying to communicate, we don't want to inadvertently give it access to more systems. Chirakis: ::Nods agreement:: Alexis McFarland: @ Mmm. It's nice! Nijil tr'Korjata: We can install a more rigorous filtering system for incoming transmissions. Johnson Kenyon: If it is an intelligence, it knows enough about us to get our attention through persistent, low level communication Chirakis: 10:55 PM Scott Coleridge: Commander Cayne, work with Tarisa to prep the probe Johnson Kenyon: ::to Nijil:: you want to cut off the transmission? Annisha: @ :: Annisha's grandmother watches the girls from the kitchen window, letting them take in the atmosphere :: Cdr Wyatt Cayne: :: Perks up :: Certainly. Nijil tr'Korjata: Filter is not cutting off. We don't know it's a transmission. Johnson Kenyon: I'm not sure I understand the purpose of a filter if you don't want to filter it out? Scott Coleridge: Doctors, focus on trying other methods of communication . Telepathic . Symbolic .You can have Ensign Kenyon to help with the technical stuff mimipavilion: ::nods:: Johnson Kenyon: ::stopping side conversation to hear he is to work with medical:: Fletcher Jackson: # ::sitting at OPS, drumming his fingers on the console as the red dot blinks.. and blinks... and blinks::: Scott Coleridge: Subcommander, boost sensors and explore your filter idea in case we want that option Chirakis: (two minutes) Nijil tr'Korjata: I can dedicate a processing unit to all of the sensor data we have collected. Alexis McFarland: Dacia> ::nods:: Scott Coleridge: Captain, I know you said your contacts are in the dark . But at least with with Missouri . Try to discover why we are the only two places experiencing this. Scott Coleridge: Everyone clear on their assignments? Chirakis: Yes, Commander. mimipavilion: Yes Johnson Kenyon: Yes, Commander Johnson Kenyon: ::can we use the two sources as a triangulation?,,, thinking:: Nijil tr'Korjata: Needs a third Alexis McFarland: Dacia> Yes Scott Coleridge: Then let's get to it. Dismissed. Chirakis: =/\==/\=PAUSE SIM=/\==/\= Chirakis: =/\==/\=PAUSE SIM=/\==/\= Chirakis: 8/31/18 Chirakis: Thank you. Chirakis: Perfect timing. Well done, everyone. Chirakis: Commander, TBS? Scott Coleridge: 2 hours Chirakis: 2 hours it is. Comments for the crew? Scott Coleridge: Hopefully our investigations will turn up interesting stuff Chirakis: I am sure there will be some interesting stuff. Chirakis: Comments or questions from the crew? Johnson Kenyon: Doctors, what ways do you want to communicate? Chirakis: You need to figure out how you're going to communicate between sims? Chirakis: I suggest setting up a Google doc. or similar. Chirakis: Discord is another avenue. Alexis McFarland: Works for me Chirakis: You may stay and discuss that after dismissal. Anything else? Chirakis: Crew dismissed. Be well. Be Safe. Don’t forget your towel.
  8. Mission Brief | Sky Harbor Aegis | 31 August 2018 29 April 2388 - Stardate 2388.119 TBS is zero. The time is 1100 hours (11:00 AM) Aegis local. We are in the middle of a conundrum. Our friendly (or not so friendly) blinking red light in the vicinity of Nebula 236A does not want to stop blinking—a testimony to persistence beyond measure. At sim begin, Captain Ramson will call command (everyone) to the conference room for a meeting to discuss the situation.
  9. Missing Links Chirakis Kirel, SI-5 Ens Jackson called it a lighthouse. Kirel called it a nuisance, an interruption, and a nightmare that they certainly could do without. Even with discussion among those of rank in Command and Control, not much had been accomplished. Kirel stared at the Mission Operations screen as though her glare would make it disappear. It did not, of course, nor did she believe that it actually would, but it did help her to think. And those in CnC recognized that posture as a “Do Not Disturb” sign. They gave her a wide berth. Even her bondmate passed by with no more than a cursory nod. However, his expression was one of distraction and confusion—an expression she had seldom seen. She sighed. Hopefully the puzzle pieces would fit together into a comprehensive image, and soon. Whatever this blinking light is, it is a security threat, and would be so until proven otherwise. -------------------------------------- Chirakis Kirel, Captain SI-5 Chief of Security, Sky Harbor Aegis Stardate 2388.119 Sky Harbor Aegis is experiencing a strange phenomenon that appeared in the vicinity of nebula 236A. The incident began on this date and is ongoing. Every avenue is currently being explored, and as yet there has been no definitive answer. The Situation: A strange light blinks red continuously, at random intervals, in the vicinity of nebula 236A. One crewman described it as resembling “a lighthouse.” The red blinks appear only on the Mission Operations console. When Mission Operations is changed to another console, the red light follows is—meaning that the only console on which this phenomenon occurs is that of Mission Operations. Whether this light is a warning, an attempt to make contact with Aegis, or otherwise has not been determined. No other vessels, colonies, or starbases have reported a similar phenomenon, with the exception of USS Missouri. No reason for that occurrence has been postulated. Investigations are ongoing. Extended Data: Nebula 236A forms a major link from Federation Space and that of the Joint Allied Powers to former Breen space. Nebula 236A is a major conduit for former Breen slaves—both friendly and hostile. Both Task Force Aegis and Strike Force Aegis monitor Joint Allied borders and continue to repel hostile groups. So far, none of these hostile groups has been connected to a blinking red light. This area of Nebula 236A also fosters communication and navigation interruptions. [Refer to: N236A.2388.117.USSMissouri; N236A.2388.117.SHAAegean] Therefore, a warning has been posted for all vessels traveling close to that area. Aegis Computer System does not recognize communication with this red light. However, the blinking light seems to respond to our communication system. For instance, sending a message in Morse code has elicited a response in kind. Whether this is an actual response or a mirror of the message has yet to be determined. Regular reports forthcoming. If regular reports do not arrive on time, consider Aegis hostile territory and approach as such for investigation. Chirakis Kirel, SI-5 Computer encrypt, priority Alpha Send to Rendezvous October Riov t’Alani ----------------------------------------- After sending the report, Kirel turned to watch the Operations console continue to blink. It was time to “circle the wagons” as some Terrans say— though she did not completely understand its meaning. As Chief of Security, she was bound to respectfully approach Captain Ramson and request a command meeting to discuss the matter. For the sake of those not familiar with security’s parlance, she sketched out a suggested plan of discussion and forwarded it to Captain Ramson and Commander Coleridge. Suggested Plan of Discussion—Command Meeting 2388.119 - Sky Harbor Aegis We are witnessing a red area, flashing as though it were a lighthouse. The light seems to be emanating from nebula 236A, but that is not certain. The flashing could be in the nebula, close to the nebula, or even coming from the other side of the nebula. Is the light meant to be a warning, as would a lighthouse? Is it trying to send a message? Is it a lure similar to that of bioluminescent creatures found on several planets? That sector has a posted warning because something in it causes navigation and communication interruptions. Are the red dots linked to the absence of something rather than the presence of something? When we respond to the light, the same sequence responds— meaning that if we send two flashes, the response is two flashes. However, our computer does not recognize the blinking as any known code. We are not detecting any abnormal patterns in the energy relays that might be related to the light. Are sentient creatures trying to communicate? Is the light technologically responding to what we send? Are we sending a flash to a mirror? The red blinks appear only on the Mission Operations console. When Aegis OPS is moved to a different console, the blinking moves with it. Is it technologically attached to Mission OPS? Why only Mission OPS? It has not been reported by any other ships or stations. USS Missouri is experiencing the same phenomenon. Why are Aegis and Missouri experiencing the phenomenon? Is there a commonality between Aegis and USS Missouri. If so, what is the commonality?
  10. =/\= Aegis Mission Brief 8/24/18 =/\= 29 April 2388 - Stardate 2388.119 TBS is 1 hour. The time is 0900 hours (9:00 AM) Aegis local. Aegean docked at Aegis. Toq-Pan-Jri is at the shipyard. Task Force Aegis is in defensive orbit. Ships entering a zone near nebula 236a experience communication and navigation disruption. A warning has been broadcast to that sector. Aegis OPS console is still blinking its irregular red dot pattern. Science is looking for anything in space that should be there but is not. Chirakis: =/\==/\=BEGIN SIM=/\==/\= Chirakis: =/\==/\=BEGIN SIM=/\==/\= Jylliene: ::CnC, Ops:: Dacia Sandero: ::in sickbay:: Johnson Kenyon: ::moving the isolinear spanner into position, deactivating the first input on the OPS panel:: Chirakis: :::CnC, doing various things::: mimipavilion: ::on CnC, still observing:: Alexis McFarland: @::With Miana and Annisha, relaxing a bit after finishing her breakfast:: Tarisa: ::On CnC, comparing Aegean and the science vessel's logs with what she already has.:: Jylliene: ::On aux ops, that is:: Fletcher Jackson: ::aux OPS, glad to be away from the red dot::: Kallah Ramson: ::on the cnc:: Tarisa: @ Miana> ::Resting in a chair.:: That was yummy. Jylliene: ::on aux aux ops?:: Alexis McFarland: @Mmm. Yes. What are we doing, Annisha? Chirakis: ::plowing through reports from the red dot area, she sees nothing of importance::: Johnson Kenyon: ::not seeing anything change, moving to shut off the next relay:: Scott Coleridge: ::on the CnC still:: Kallah Ramson: ::walking the cnc, checking on each station in turn Kallah Ramson: :: Alexis McFarland: @::Drinking some juice:: Jylliene: ::checking expected arrivals/departures:: Kallah Ramson: i do hope this is nothing like those broadcasts that took over the stations comm system once. Jylliene: Hopefully not. Jylliene: ::cringes a little inwardly at the memory:: Johnson Kenyon: ::overhears the captain, afraid to ask:: Scott Coleridge: ::Kallah:: So far we're not detecting any signs of intrusions of our computer system Tarisa: ::Sighs as she continues to work.:: Chirakis: ::she looks up:: Hopefully not, Captain. Kallah Ramson: ::nods to Scott:: just one...blinking...light. Johnson Kenyon: ::seeing the red dot remain, moves to the next relay:: Cptn d'Ka: & Commander Lei'ri, take the con. I'll be on station. Alexis McFarland: @::looks outside::: Looks like a nice day today. Cptn d'Ka: & Lei'ri> Aye, Captain. Tarisa: @ Miana> ::Nods.:: Mmhmm. mimipavilion: ::remembers the comm incident:: Cptn d'Ka: & ::steps into the command TR:: +Aegis Command+ Permission to come aboard. Chirakis: ::looks up, then to Ramson:: Alexis McFarland: @ I'd like to see what they have on this farm. Kallah Ramson: i would love it if we are missing something amazingly obvious. Tarisa: ::Frowns as she is starting to see the same results.:: Jylliene: ::looks to Ramson:: Kallah Ramson: ::without turning:: permission granted. mimipavilion: ::listens:: Chirakis: As would I. Perhaps Captain d'Ka has an idea. Johnson Kenyon: ::disabling the next relay on the OPS panel, hoping this will turn off the blinking dot:: Jylliene: +d'Ka+ Aegis here. Permission granted, sir. Welcome aboard. Cptn d'Ka: & +com+ Thank you, Commander. To your command TR, if available. Jylliene: +d'Ka+ Of course, sir. Standby for transport. Cptn d'Ka: % +standing by+ Jylliene: ::activates:: Jylliene: ::transports:: Johnson Kenyon: ::wonders if the blinking red dot will remain when he disables the whole console:: Cdr Wyatt Cayne: :: At tactical :: Cptn d'Ka: ::materializes in the CnC transporter area and steps out, turning immediately to Captain Ramson::: Captain Ramson. Chirakis: ::watching, neutral expression:: Kallah Ramson: ::nods:: Tarisa: ::Ears perk up as she sees the new arrival.:: Cptn d'Ka: Commander Coleridge. ::nods:: Captain Chirakis. ::nods:: Chirakis: ::polite nod, then resumes her duties:: mimipavilion: ::watches:: Tarisa: @ Miana> ::Smiles.:: I caught the scent of a few interesting animals. Scott Coleridge: ::waves at d'Ka and then gets back to analyzing the energy subsystems:: mimipavilion: ::goes back to observing:: Cptn d'Ka: :::approaching Ramson:: Captain, a word? Cptn d'Ka: ::notes the engineer working at the OPS console:: Kallah Ramson: ::motions towards her office:: Alexis McFarland: @oooh. Let's go check them out. I think Annisha's grandparents said most of them were friendly. Cptn d'Ka: ::nods, following::: Kallah Ramson: ::slips into the office:: Jylliene: ::wondering how the girls are enjoying their visit:: Tarisa: @ Miana> ::Jumps out of her seat.:: Okay! Chirakis: ::she steps toward the OPS console::: Any progress, Ensign? Johnson Kenyon: ::moves to the next relay:: Johnson Kenyon: ::to Chirakis:: the console appears to be working fine, I'm running a level 2 diagnostic now Alexis McFarland: @ ::slips on some sandals and heads outside:: Mm.. nice and warm. Chirakis: And nothing so far, I take it? Kallah Ramson: ::turns and sits on the floor, leaning sideways into one of the larger floor pillows:: Johnson Kenyon: That's right, Ma'am. I'm checking the relays one by one Cptn d'Ka: ::joins her on the floor:: Captain, you must be having problems with your communication system, as I see an engineer working on it. Would it have anything to do with a flashing red dot? Johnson Kenyon: ::by now the OPS console has been about 1/2 disabled:: Chirakis: ::thinks:: Chirakis: :::wondering... why ops?::: Kallah Ramson: it does. Kallah Ramson: is that not as uncommon a problem as we suspect? Johnson Kenyon: ::blinking red light still there, disabling the next relay:: Alexis McFarland: @ ::walking around outside in the farm:: Cptn d'Ka: Definitely uncommon, but common to Aegis and Missouri. Tarisa: @ Miana> ::Following Alexis around.:: Annisha: @ It looks just like the holo-recording.. :: looks around :: Cptn d'Ka: Has it been reported by any other ship or station? Alexis McFarland: @Mmm. Yes, it does. Kallah Ramson: Not yet. Jylliene: ::glances over at the main console, wonders how long it might take to track down the issue:: Nijil tr'Korjata: :: Down in main engineering working on utility lines :: Johnson Kenyon: ::thinking that the scanners will be disabled from this console.... now... cuts another relay:: Kallah Ramson: The sector is under a navigational warning because of some unexplained disruption of nav sensors. but no lights, not yet. Cptn d'Ka: ::takes a deep breath into a slow exhale::: There is a commonality here that we might consider. Aegis command and Missouri command have telepaths, as the others do not. Alexis McFarland: @ ::heads over to a pasture, with lots of what could be cows?:: Scott Coleridge: I'm not detecting any abnormal patterns in the energy relays that might be related to our light friend. Tarisa: @ Miana> They are so big! Alexis McFarland: @ Yeah, I wonder if that's where our milk came from Kallah Ramson: true. Tarisa: @ Miana> Hmm...maybe? Kallah Ramson: Hope you're not saying we're blinking lights in our sleep. ::smile:: Alexis McFarland: @ Do you know what they are, Annisha? Nijil tr'Korjata: :: mutters :: So many ODN lines across this station. Nijil tr'Korjata: Kenyon? :: asks without looking behind him :: Cptn d'Ka: He gives a hearty laugh::: Let us hope not, Captain. Then my next question would be if you have had any new telepathic contact? New, meaning something you have not heard before. Johnson Kenyon: ::looking at the top of the OPS console... Yep, red light still there:: Annisha: @ I thought they only grew plants... Alexis McFarland: @ Maybe they just got them? Nijil tr'Korjata: :: Turns around fully to see he's alone :: Oh Chirakis: ::wanders toward Scott, waiting for his attention::: Johnson Kenyon: ::shutting down next relay on the console:: Scott Coleridge: ::looks up at Chirakis:: Kallah Ramson: No, nothing new. Chirakis: Commander, when you asked Commander Tarisa to look for something that should be there, but is not, exactly what were you looking for and why? Kallah Ramson: ::ponders a moment:: Tarisa: ::Ears perk up.:: Alexis McFarland: @ Tube roots. Johnson Kenyon: ::showing some frustration, shutting off next relay:: Johnson Kenyon: ::pretty soon the communications will be likewise disabled:: Chirakis: ACTION> When Kenyon shuts down that relay, the red dot shifts to Aux OPS. mimipavilion: ::wonders the CnC:: Scott Coleridge: ::Chirakis:: It was just a long shot. I was just wondering if maybe the red dots were linked to an absence of something rather than the presence of something Scott Coleridge: Like a signal that wasn't there anymore Jylliene: ::groans:: Blinking.Red.Light. Johnson Kenyon: ::looking up:: Huh? mimipavilion: ::hears Chirakis and Scott, then Jylliene and looks at her:: Kallah Ramson: Has something changed for you? Jylliene: On aux ops now. Chirakis: A signal that was not there but used to be there is telling us that it is broken ..... :::turns::: Cptn d'Ka: I have a slight connection, but nothing of importance so far. And that in itself is strange. mimipavilion: ::wonders over to Jylline:: Johnson Kenyon: ::moving to Aux OPS to see the light:: Johnson Kenyon: ::scratching head:: Cptn d'Ka: Normally, I hear everything, everywhere, and my system will filter out that which is useless. Johnson Kenyon: the console hasn't been reconfigured... how in the heck did the light jump? Cptn d'Ka: In this case, most everything is filtered. And that is strange. Annisha: @ :: Goes over to the 'cows' :: Johnson Kenyon: ::returns to the OPS console:: Jylliene: ::shrugs:: No idea. Alexis McFarland: @ ::follows Annisha:: Nijil tr'Korjata: +Kenyon+ I am checking the ODN across the station. Johnson Kenyon: ::reenabling the last relay:: Johnson Kenyon: +Nijil+ Aye... sir... anything unusual happening? Cptn d'Ka: I do not see it as a threat, which is also interesting. Kallah Ramson: Sounds like you are having the same problem as Aegean's navigational sensors. Just slightly off and turning back towards itself. mimipavilion: ::starts putting the conversation and the red dot together and starts coming with possible explanation: a type of echo displacement:: Cptn d'Ka: As was Missouri's. Engineering is testing them now. Nijil tr'Korjata: +Kenyon+ Nothing in particular, but there are kilometers of lines. Kallah Ramson: These are probably all related. We just need to find the missing links between them. Chirakis: ::steps over to Jylliene::: Commander, when it blinks, send a blink... or whatever you have in your console... back at the same frequency and the same number of blinks. Annisha: @ :: A cow comes up to her, Annisha's eyes are wide :: Cptn d'Ka: Indeed. Chirakis: ::turns toward Tarisa:: Monitor anything that might reply. Johnson Kenyon: +Nijil+ Does the OPS console have a history of problems? We have blinking red light here that just jumped to the Aux OPS in the middle of my diagnostics Tarisa: ::Nods.:: Jylliene: ::nods to Chirakis:: Scott Coleridge: ::Chirakis:: So you think this is an attempt at communication? Johnson Kenyon: ::to Chirakis:: You don't suppose there is an intelligence to this blinking light? Jylliene: ::starts mirroring the blinking pattern:: Nijil tr'Korjata: +Kenyon+ Na that I am aware, but there are several hundred consoles of that type. Chirakis: Since it could be anything—even a signal that something is broken—we must explore every avenue. Johnson Kenyon: ::shuts up and listens:: Chirakis: ACTION> The blinking pattern stops. Kallah Ramson: I am waiting for my officers to complete their investigation. If yours find anything useful, please share. Cptn d'Ka: Of course Johnson Kenyon: ::to Chirakis:: I can think of no reason why the light would have jumped panels. Jylliene: It stopped. Chirakis: Nor can.... it stopped? Jylliene: ::looks at Chirakis:: Alexis McFarland: @ ::watches the cow:: Jylliene: Yes ma'am. After I started echoing it. Nijil tr'Korjata: +Kenyon+ Generally I would replace it with a functioning one given the location. I'd set it up in our diagnostic room. Tarisa: ::curious look.:: Chirakis: ACTION> The blink sends a short series of blinks. mimipavilion: ::hears that it has stopped:: Jylliene: There it is again. Echoing. Tarisa: ::recording.:: Cptn d'Ka: ::just as he begins to stand::: Something is going on in CnC. Jylliene: It seems more deliberate? Kallah Ramson: ::standing:: I know. Chirakis: Reply with the same pattern. Johnson Kenyon: +Nijil+ I don't think that will be necessary... I'd say someone is attempting communication in an unusual way. Jylliene: If that makes sense. Jylliene: ::nods:: Kallah Ramson: ::steps towards the door:: Jylliene: ::already echoed it back:: Cptn d'Ka: ::following Ramson:: mimipavilion: ::hears:: Is possible that it's a subspace creature? Just a thought. Johnson Kenyon: ::starts restoring the main OPS console:: Kallah Ramson: ::reenters CnC from her office:: report. Chirakis: ::leaves that to Scott:: Jylliene: ::having echoed it, watches for reply:: Chirakis: ::Jyl:: What did you send? Jylliene: Same pattern Jylliene: Echoed it exactly Alexis McFarland: @it hasn't eaten you yet, so I guess it's friendly? Jylliene: As you directed. Chirakis: Send the Morse code for "hi" Chirakis: I believe that is the Terran greeting? Scott Coleridge: ::Ramson:: Captain Chirakis believes there is something behind the dot communicating to us in... Morse code. Jylliene: ::sends:: Doing it now. Scott Coleridge: We're attempting to see if responding to the phenomenon will alter its behaviour. Johnson Kenyon: ::chuckles to himself.... Morse code is centuries old... I'd have to look it up:: Jylliene: ::has the computer telling her what to do, since she doesn't know it either:: Chirakis: Send this one: .... --- .-- / .- .-. . / -.-- --- ..- Jylliene: ::sends the pattern:: Cptn d'Ka: Curious. Chirakis: ACTION> The response is "how are you"? Kallah Ramson: ::leaning over the console:: Chirakis: Is it mimicking? Alexis McFarland: @ ::smiles and moves closer to the cow:: Jylliene: (response from the other, or from us?) Chirakis: (response from them) Cptn d'Ka: ::stands aside, thinking::: Jylliene: There's a response. ::look sit up:: It's "How are you" Johnson Kenyon: ::nearly got the OPS console back together:: Kallah Ramson: (if a computer voice suddenly asks "would you like to play a game", we're hanging up) Chirakis: (Indeed we are) Jylliene: (Agreed) Chirakis: (Last words) Chirakis: =/\==/\=PAUSE SIM=/\==/\= Chirakis: =/\==/\=PAUSE SIM=/\==/\= Chirakis: 8/24/18 Chirakis: Thank you. Chirakis: Well, then. Interesting, weird, strange... any number of words fits here. Chirakis: Captain, TBS? Kallah Ramson: I will leave that up to you. Chirakis: I will put it at zero then. Johnson Kenyon: let me get this straight.. there's an entity in the ship communication relay that perceived my diagnostic as a threat and jumped to another console? Kallah Ramson: ::nods:: Chirakis: so we can figure this out Chirakis: Ah... but USS Missouri is experiencing the same thing. Chirakis: I'll write a short synopsis for a log so everyone is on the same page. Johnson Kenyon: confusing... Johnson Kenyon: and interesting at the same time Chirakis: Otherwise it can get very confusing, yes. Chirakis: Words for the crew, Captain Ramson? Kallah Ramson: none Chirakis: Commander, words? Scott Coleridge: Nope Chirakis: Words from the crew? Comments, questions? Chirakis: Seeing none, Chirakis: Crew dismissed. Be well. Be Safe. Don’t forget your towel.
  11. Mission Brief | Sky Harbor Aegis | 24 August 2018 29 April 2388 - Stardate 2388.119 TBS is 1 hour. The time is 0900 hours (9:00 AM) Aegis local. Aegean and toq-Pan-Jri have returned. Aegean is in her private berth at the station; Toq-pan-Jri is berthed at the shipyard for system evaluation. Because both ships experienced interference with their navigation and communication sensors, a warning has been broadcast to the sector. Task Force Aegis remains in defensive orbit of Aegis. Our little red dot in the middle of the OPS console is not going away any time soon. It shows on the external communications console, but not internal. The blink seems to be coming from nebula 236-a. The blinks are irregular, like a code, but the computer does not match it with any known code.
  12. ~~~Season 24 Premiere~~~ =/\= Aegis Mission Brief 8/17/18=/\= 29 April 2388 - Stardate 2388.119 TBS is 9.5 hours. The time is 0700 hours (7:00 AM) Aegis local. Alpha Watch has begun. Everyone should have had a good night's sleep. Aegean successfully intercepted Toq-Pan-Jri. Both ships are about to dock. Aegean and Task Force Aegis encountered a navigational and communications problem. It is possible that the same problem shifted Toq-Pan-Jri off course. The OPS console still shows a light that blinks a red irregular pattern. Science is looking for anything in space that should be there but is not. Chirakis: =/\==/\=BEGIN SIM=/\==/\= Chirakis: =/\==/\=BEGIN SIM=/\==/\= Kallah Ramson: *::on Aegean bridge:: Chirakis: ::CnC::: Kallah Ramson: *+com+ Aegean to Aegis. Dacia Sandero: ::in medical:: Chirakis: +COM+ Aegis here. Johnson Kenyon: ::in engineering, looking over the duty roster:: Tarisa: ::Arrives on the CnC.:: mimipavilion: ::in medical:: Kallah Ramson: *+com+ Clear us for docking. toq-Pan-Jri will berth at the shipyard for system evaluation. Tarisa: @ Miana> ::Running in circles around everyone.:: Tarisa: :;Takes her station.:: Chirakis: Fletcher> +COM+ Clearing Aegean for docking. Shipyard has been notified. Alexis McFarland: @ ::just woke up and rubs her eyes:: Nijil tr'Korjata: :: Back to work and refreshed:: Johnson Kenyon: ::preventive maintenance tasks, flush the plasma conduits... that's something I can do:: Kallah Ramson: *::Aegean slides into position, docking beams slowing her to a stop before the airlock extends into position:: Chirakis: ::watching the tactical console::: Johnson Kenyon: ::noticing Nijil:: good morning sir... I noticed the plasma conduits need flushing according to the roster... shall I do that? Tarisa: @ ::Jumps onto Alexis' bed and huggles her.:: Alexis McFarland: @. You sure have a lot of energy this morning. ::giggles, and huggles her back.. snuggles:: Chirakis: ::and there doesn't seem to be anything going on at the moment, which is a good thing::: Scott Coleridge: :: enters CnC:: Tarisa: @ Miana> ::Purrs.:: I am too excited. Chirakis: ::nod:: Commander Coleridge. Alexis McFarland: @Yes, I see. I wonder what we'll do here. Kallah Ramson: ::steps back onboard Aegis:: Chirakis: Situation is normal, Commander. Aegean is berthed. Toq-pan-Jri is at the shipyard. Tarisa: ::Notes the new arrivals to CnC.:: Kallah Ramson: ::steps to the TL:: Tarisa: @ Miana> ::Curious.:: I do not know... Alexis McFarland: @ ::Looks around for Annisha:: Chirakis: ::begins her normal pace, beginning with Tarisa:: Anything you have found that is not there anymore? Johnson Kenyon: :::noticing some urgent diagnostics are needed on the docked ship, plus something about a red dot::: Johnson Kenyon: ::thinking Nijil must be either very busy or very tired to not answer:: Chirakis: OPS> ::frustrated with the red dot, but keeps on::: Tarisa: ::Shakes head.:: Not at the moment, but I will tap into the Aegean’s sensor logs to help. I should make a request to the science ship as well. Kallah Ramson: ::enters CnC:: Scott Coleridge: Good, I like good news for once. Is the ops console still blinking? Chirakis: ::turns and straightens up:: Captain. ::smart nod:: Tarisa: @ Miana> She was already up before I woke up. Kallah Ramson: Well, that was interesting. Chirakis: Yes, the console is still blinking. Tarisa: ::Ears perk as Kallah enters.:: Chirakis: ::turns to listen to Ramson:: Alexis McFarland: @ Hmm. Maybe she went to see her grandparents. Dacia Sandero: ::working with some of the Romulans on stuff:: mimipavilion: ::going over reports:: Tarisa: @ Miana> ::Nods.:: Kallah Ramson: We need to broadcast a navigation warning to the sector. We could have just spun in circles and not know according to our sensors. Fletcher Jackson: :::trying to not see the red dot::: Kallah Ramson: ::glances towards Fletcher:: Tarisa: :;Once the connection is made, she taps into the Aegean sensor logs.:: Fletcher Jackson: Yes, ma'am. Putting the broadcast together now. Johnson Kenyon: ::selecting tools to flush the plasma conduits::: Kallah Ramson: ::back to Chirakis:: Any progress on our blinkers? Chirakis: Unfortunately, no. Alexis McFarland: @ ::Looks out of their window at the landscape:: Sure is pretty. ::close to Miana:: Johnson Kenyon: ::heading to the warp generator::: Fletcher Jackson: +All Points Alert+ Be advised, sensor readings and communications are disrupted in sector 108-Charlie. ::repeats three times::: Tarisa: @ Miana> Mmhm. ::Window watching, all bright-eyed. Her tail was dancing as she did.:: Kallah Ramson: ::looks towards Scott:: Do we need to dismantle the whole console to figure what's making it do that? Fletcher Jackson: ::goes back to work and requests a marker buoy for that sector:: Johnson Kenyon: ::arriving at the warp generator, setting it up for a flush and storing excess coolant:: Chirakis: ::wanders toward Jackson:: Chirakis: ::and watches the red blinking light::: Chirakis: ::hovering over Jackson:: Tarisa: ::Starts looking over the logs.:: Fletcher Jackson: ::with a sigh:: Captain, if it was in another area, like on the side of the screen instead of smack dab in the middle, I could stand it. As it is, it's driving me crazy. Johnson Kenyon: ::begins flushing sequence:: Kallah Ramson: Transfer ops functions to an aux station. Scott Coleridge: We could route ops control to another console, see if the problem follows. mimipavilion: ::puts the PADD down and rubs her eyes:: Kallah Ramson: ::nods:: Fletcher Jackson: Yes, ma'am. Transferring OPS to another console. Should I take that station, ma'am? Kallah Ramson: Yes. Fletcher Jackson: Yes, ma'am. ::stands and moves to the other station:: Chirakis: ::watching, curious:: Johnson Kenyon: ::observing procedure complete, returning to engineering:: Fletcher Jackson: ::slips behind the new console and logs in::: Kallah Ramson: ::scott:: Get some engineers up here to check the ops console out. Fletcher Jackson: ::resumes work, then::: Aw, sh*t... Chirakis: Mr. Jackson? Tarisa: ::Ear perks at the expletive.:: Fletcher Jackson: Sorry, ma'am. ::with a sigh:: It's on this one. Johnson Kenyon: ::reviewing next maintenance activity:: Scott Coleridge: +Engineering+ Coleridge to engineering. Chirakis: ::checks the main screen:: It is gone from the main screen. Alexis McFarland: @::puts her arm around Miana, and smells food being cooked:: Mmm, that smells nice. I wonder what they're making. Chirakis: ::moves over to internal OPS::: Johnson Kenyon: +Coleridge+ this is engineering, go ahead. Tarisa: @ Miana> Something yummy! Chirakis: It does not show on internal OPS. Alexis McFarland: @Mmm! mimipavilion: ::gets up from her desk and exits her office:: mimipavilion: ::looks for Dacia and finds her:: Hey I'm going to the CnC. You have medical. Chirakis: 10:40 PM Scott Coleridge: +Kenyon+ Please dispatch someone to CnC immediately to look at the ops station .We're trying to diagnose a curious malfunction Dacia Sandero: Understood. ::nods:: Johnson Kenyon: +Coleridge+ I will be right there. mimipavilion: ::enters the tl and orders it to CnC:: Kallah Ramson: You're not carrying anything magnetic are you ::looks at Fletcher:: Fletcher Jackson: :::glances down:: No, ma'am. Johnson Kenyon: ::wonders if that communication array is out again:: Chirakis: ::steps to her console to access main ship operations and give Kenyon access to CnC now that he is Ensign::: Johnson Kenyon: ::gathering tools:: mimipavilion: ::arrives on the CnC and keeps to the side:: Kallah Ramson: ::looking around the cnc:: And no other console is showing this behavior? Tarisa: ::Notices the scent of the Doctor as she continues to work.:: Tarisa: ::Looks up and shakes her head in response to the question.:: Johnson Kenyon: ::enters TL:: CnC Chirakis: >>>General Response is Negative Nijil tr'Korjata: @annisha :: with the others :: Chirakis: I have a thought, Captain. May I try something? Alexis McFarland: @ There you are. It's really pretty here. Kallah Ramson: ::Fletcher:: reconfigure your console for tactical operations. ::over her shoulder:: Tac, do the same to ops. Fletcher Jackson: Yes, ma'am. Kallah Ramson: ::Chirakis:: what were you thinking? Johnson Kenyon: ::arriving at CnC, looking over things:: Chirakis: Configuring TAC to OPS. Kallah Ramson: ::smile:: Chirakis: I would like to record the blips and see if the computer can translate from the blips. Perhaps this is a code? Kallah Ramson: ::nods:: mimipavilion: ::listens to happenings of the CnC:: Johnson Kenyon: ::listening to the conversation, moves to the OPS station:: Chirakis: Commander Tarisa, step over to... ::looks at her console:: this console, which is now OPS, and record the blips with your tricorder. Tarisa: ::Nods, stepping over.:: Fletcher Jackson: ::Ramson:: No blip on the TAC console, ma'am. Tarisa: ::Starts recording.:: Chirakis: ::steps away to allow her access::: Kallah Ramson: Good, it's not all your fault then. ::smiles to Fletcher::: Fletcher Jackson: ::look of horror:: Oh... no, ma'am. Johnson Kenyon: ::starts a level 2 diagnostic on the OPS panel:: Fletcher Jackson: ::finally gets it and gives a half grin::: Fletcher Jackson: Yes, ma'am, it's not. Fletcher Jackson: I mean.. it's not my fault. Nijil tr'Korjata: :: is finding it hard to work :: Kallah Ramson: (if this was a Dr Who episode and the blip had followed you, i think that would mean you are the next to die) Johnson Kenyon: ::smirks at the captain joking:: Fletcher Jackson: (not good) Chirakis: 10:50 PM Chirakis: That should do it. Now, Commander, run that information through the computer and see if there is any kind of pattern that would indicate a code. Kallah Ramson: ::Kenyon:: Crack open the ops console over there and look for anything out of the ordinary. Tarisa: ::Nods and begins searching for a pattern.:: Johnson Kenyon: ::looks out from under the console:: Aye Captain Fletcher Jackson: ::is now working tac, and he has no idea what to do or how to read it because it's tactical jargon:: Tarisa: ::Blinks.:: There appears to be a pattern...::Frown.:: But the computer can not identify it. mimipavilion: ::observes:: Chirakis: Interesting. Some kind of pattern. Chirakis: Unidentifiable. Chirakis: ::mulling that over::: Chirakis: 10:55 PM Johnson Kenyon: ::tarisa:: did you run it through the universal translator? Alexis McFarland: @ ::eating breakfast, of eggs and tube roots and other omulan things:: Mmm, yummy. ::smiles:: Tarisa: ::Nods.:: Chirakis: ::steps over to Fletcher for an assist::: Fletcher Jackson: ::moves from the console:: Chirakis: ::Fletcher:: Sit, Ensign. I can see the screen from behind you. Tarisa: @ Miana> Mmm...yummy. Fletcher Jackson: yes, ma'am. Johnson Kenyon: ::continues the diagnostic:: Chirakis: ::satisfied that tactical is safe so far::: Chirakis: 10:58 PM Chirakis: (last words) Johnson Kenyon: ::not seeing anything yet:: mimipavilion: ::wonders what this signal is about:: Chirakis: =/\==/\=PAUSE SIM=/\==/\= Chirakis: =/\==/\=PAUSE SIM=/\==/\= Chirakis: 8/17/18 Chirakis: Thank you. Chirakis: Interesting. We have quite a puzzle. Chirakis: But that is normal for us. Chirakis: Captain, TBS? Kallah Ramson: How about just an hour. Chirakis: One hour. Words for the crew? Kallah Ramson: none Chirakis: Any words from the crew? Questions? Comments? Johnson Kenyon: Lots of things can send signals like blips on the screen.. It will take a while to sort through the possibilities Nijil tr'Korjata: Like no time passed, but it took forever Chirakis: Crew dismissed. Be well. Be Safe. Don’t forget your towel.
  13. ~Sky Harbor Aegis~ is proud to announce the promotion of Johnson Kenyon to Ensign Congratulations, Ensign Kenyon! Well done!
  14. ~~Season 24 Premiere~~ Mission Brief |Sky Harbor Aegis | 18 August 2018 29 April 2388 - Stardate 2388.119 TBS is 9.5 hours. The time is 0700 hours (7:00 AM) Aegis local. Alpha Watch has begun. Aegean successfully intercepted the science ship, Toq-Pan-Jri. Both ships are about to dock at Aegis. As a precaution, Task Force Aegis remains on standby in docking orbit. An inquiry into the cause of Toq-Pan-Jri’s change of flight plans will hopefully uncover the cause of the navigation problem that Aegean and Task Force Aegis encountered.
  15. From the Ashes Chirakis Kirel, Captain, CSEC, SI-5 There are times when handing duties over to a junior officer for night shift is not a good idea. This was one of those times. CnC’s chronograph kept a steady rhythm, ignoring everything but the passage of time. Shifts that should have changed did not. Some voluntarily left; others either decided to stay or became oblivious to time, mesmerized by unfolding events. Captain Ramson had left on Aegean to intercept a ship that was assigned to a stellar survey, then, either willingly or not, took another path—hostile and dangerous. To Kirel, the Tok-Pan-Jri would become another Vladivostok, whose crew paid a heavy price for entering that nebula unescorted. This time, Task Force Aegis—USS Missouri, USS Ramius, stealth destroyer USS Warren, and their support vessels—accompanied Aegean, and for that Kirel was thankful. Captain Ramson passed Aegis command onto Commander Coleridge, who was immediately drawn into another snare known as Starfleet Command. With him buried in his office to endure hours of mostly-idle chat filled with questions he could not answer and not a little posturing on their part, Kirel became Officer in Charge. Was it her deadly glare that kept Lt Cdr Tarisa, Ens Jackson, and Ltjg Lackey on shift? Kirel preferred to believe that they were dedicated, determined to stand the watch and see this through. In retrospect, she was correct in that assumption. Those three, as well as Midshipman Kenyon and Commander Cayne, kept her on an even keel, although it probably did not seem so to them. Her words were clipped, her expression grim, and the instant responses she demanded often became unbearable. Although she was not the only one on Aegis who remembered the incident, her personal memory of USS Vladivostok’s emaciated crew remained fresh. It cut her to the quick. “It will not happen again.” Just over three months ago, on an artificial cave on a cold, desolate planetoid within Nebula 236a, the crew of USS Vladivostok barely survived. Some did not. Stardate 2388.006 - January 6, 2388 Breath came at a premium for James Belton, captain of the USS Vladivostok. Several broken ribs, especially one that angled dangerously close to his left lung, hampered his breathing. Abrasions swelled his face and neck, and bruises covered most of his body. But he was still alive, which is more than he could say for… how many of Vladivostok’s crew? He pushed the thought aside. He had to focus on the future, absorb as much of his surroundings as possible, watch their captors, understand what he could from their language, movement, and mannerisms, and use that to survive, to plan an escape. The sudden awareness of a warm body brought him out of his thoughts. “Here, Jim,” a deep voice said softly, “we found the mylar blankets. They’ll warm you up.” Only then did he realize he was shivering uncontrollably from the heavy dampness of the cave and the icy water that dripped along its walls and ran in rivulets through tiny cracks. Aboard ship, he had almost cursed their uniform material, but now he was grateful. It was keeping him from pneumonia in this hellacious atmosphere. Two strong arms lifted him gently into a sitting position against the granite wall, wrapped the blanket around him, then carefully lifted his chin and peered into his eyes. “You’re doing okay, Jim,” said Cdr Alex Worley in encouragement. Beneath a forced smile, Belton new differently. He was lucky to be alive. Worley eased the captain’s chin and body back to their original positions, then pulled a blanket around himself before settling down next to him. Vladivostok’s executive officer had always been the crew’s encouragement. “We’ll be outta here soon,” he said. “She’ll send someone. We’ll be fine.” Belton blinked, disoriented and confused. “Logan?” “She got away,” Worley said quietly as he leaned close. “She stole one of their ships. She took the data crystal.” “Right. The crystal. She took it to…” “She took it,” Worley interrupted as his eyes darted around, looking for evesdroppers. “She’s good. We’ll be outta here soon.” The clank of metal on granite echoed from above. Soon several guards, accompanied by what looked like servants, passed among the crew, doling out a soup that looked and smelled suspiciously like the partially digested innards of some hapless invertebrate that was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Belton wanted to retch, but Worley pressed the cup to his lips before he had a chance. “Easy,” he said. “A few sips at a time. It’s not exactly home cooking, but it’ll keep your strength up. You’ll feel better.” As soon as the captain dropped off to sleep, Worley waved a crewman over to take his place. The captain was in serious condition, but there were others who needed his attention. As a science vessel, most of Vladivostok’s crew were doctors and scientists, but their medical supplies were waning. They made do with whatever they could scrounge from emergency kits. Since their capture three days ago, Worley had wondered about this cavern—why it was so symmetrical, the walls so smooth, and why it seemed to lead nowhere, only from the surface to a few hundred meters below. As he wandered through, he watched, listened, and encouraged the crew to stay as positive as possible in this hell hole. The remains of those who had died in the starship’s takeover had been carefully laid out close to the snow-covered planet’s surface. The aliens that held them? They didn’t seem to care, as long as everyone was compliant. There were no interrogations or intimidation. Worley stood at the entrance, watching the snow swirl in soft eddies around the bodies, blanketing them in their sleep. “Maddie,” he whispered across the void, “tell me you made it. Please, tell me you made it to Aegis.” Stardate 2388.009 - Deep in Neutral Space The stealth fighter, Drakkor, slipped silently through space as the dark void thirstily swallowed her jet-black hull. The vessel seemed to relish its freedom, as did her pilot, Chirakis Kirel, Starfleet Intelligence Division 5 operative and former commanding officer of Sky Harbor Aegis. Closing her eyes against the firmament, she sank deep into the custom pilot seat, both pondering and trying to ignore what could be in store when she reached her destination: a covert base where SI-5, SI-6, and Tal Shiar operatives gathered when the Federation and its allies were in danger. “Destination Rendezvous October,” Kirel spoke quietly into her helmet communication system as soon as the computer signaled neutral territory. “Run dark. Engage avoidance maneuvers and random course changes at random intervals.” “Compliance.” The computer’s synthesized reply did not hold the concern of its master, offering instead a sense of calm. It allowed her to relax, if only for a few minutes. “Unknown vessel on intercept course.” Drakkor’s synthesized voice woke her instantly. Given the immensity of space, the odds that two fighters would just happen to be on an intercept course were astronomical, and the possibility that someone had detected Drakkor’s presence was highly unlikely. “Identify.” “Insufficient data.” “Vessel description.” “High warp capable starship, fighter configuration nine meters by five meters, one occupant, standard armament.” “Species of occupant.” “Human female.” “Are weapons engaged?” “Negative. Weapons are inoperable.” Inoperable? Strange. “Time to intercept.” “Ten minutes, 43.7 seconds.” “Projected destination given its present course.” “Sky Harbor Aegis.” “Kahless!” she growled. “Change course to parallel the unknown vessel. Maintain a distance of 5,000 meters. Commence audio and visual record. Track trajectory. Arm all weapons, but do not target.” “Compliance.” Soon a strangely configured fighter passed and faded in the distance. Drakkor’s data analysis revealed recent scoring of the fighter’s hull, though there was no major damage. Her pilot was indeed human, but lifesigns were low, and given the speed of the vessel, its fuel supply would not last long. It seemed odd, especially because this particular area of space was truly a void. Kirel took manual control of Drakkor and came about for pursuit. Not long after, she approached the vessel, now dead in space and beginning to drift. Her pilot, slumped forward and barely alive, wore the uniform of a Starfleet officer, though that did not guarantee it was a Starfleet officer. Kirel drifted wing-to-wing with the unknown fighter while her systems verified that there was no trap, no failsafe, and no danger in boarding the other vessel. But a nagging suspicion remained. The slow rise and fall of the occupant’s chest and the occasional twitch of her left hand indicated she was still alive, though given the state of her vessel’s life support, she would not be for long. Kirel locked Drakkor's emergency escape hatch with the other fighter. She eased through the passageway into the cockpit. The fighter was old, and its configuration was stranger inside than out. The console was worn and ordinary, but the language was a bizarre mix of Klingon and Romulan, and barely readable. As fresh air surged in from Drakkor, the young woman came around, drinking in great gasps and thirsting for more. Soon she slumped back into the pilot’s seat, her head lolling against the headrest for a minute or two until her gaze fell on the still-helmeted Kirel, who had left the helmet's black reflective visor in place as a precaution. “Who are you?" the girl breathed, her face pale and looking more like a girl's than a woman's. "I would ask you the same. Lieutenant," the captain countered skeptically. "Not until you tell me who you are." "It would appear,” Kirel replied, “that you are in no position to bargain. If you refuse to answer I will leave.” She shrugged. “Which means that you will be dead within the hour. Of course, someone else could come along, but it’s highly unlikely given this area of space." Clearly suffering from hypoxia, the girl gave her a blank stare. “Can't you at least let me see your face? Please? So I know this is real and not a dream?" Kirel’s hand grasped the girl's arm in a vice grip, releasing only after she cried out. "There. You are awake. Now tell me who you are." "Lieutenant Madelyn Logan, Operations Officer, USS Vladivostok." "And your destination?" “I don't know. The captain gave me the coordinates. I stole the fighter and entered them, then pressed what looked like the button to engage." "You stole the fighter? From whom?" "I don't know. They were all masked, and their bodies were completely covered. When they were around us they didn’t talk except for grunts, so…” she started to fade, then took a deep breath, “...so we don’t know… I don’t know who they are… they were….” “You said ‘the captain’ gave you the coordinates, and then mentioned ‘they were all around us.’ Who is ‘us?’” “The crew… our crew… the crew of Vladivostok.” A few labored breaths, and she asked, “Please, do you have any water?” “I do. Are you able to move?” “A little.” “Then come. Use the hatch to enter my vessel. I have plenty.” For a moment, the girl’s blank stare returned, but she shook it off as she struggled out of the pilot’s seat. “You still didn’t tell me your name.” “In due time. For now, you may call me Captain.” Leaving the aged fighter behind, Drakkor continued its silent slip through the void, changing course at random intervals toward Rendezvous October. A few sips of water and the girl was asleep. The DNA sample from the young lieutenant’s water bottle verified the girl’s identity as Madelyn Logan, Lieutenant, Operations Officer for USS Vladivostok, age... 19? Recruited at 14? Her small frame curled snugly in Drakkor’s second seat spoke of a naive child more than an officer. What had happened to the Vladivostok? Why had no one reported it missing? How did the stolen fighter just happen to be in the same area as Drakkor exactly when its occupant needed help? Kirel had found a data crystal in the lieutenant’s tunic pocket. A thorough scan had verified its authenticity, it took several hours to decrypt, and it was difficult to analyze. The young officer stirred, stretched, turned, and straightened up in her seat. She picked at the ill-fitting flight suit Kirel had furnished, then looked around in confusion. "Where am I?" “You are in my fighter en route to our destination, Lieutenant," the captain replied, casually. “We should arrive within the hour. How are you feeling?" "Okay I guess," she said, frowning, possibly trying to remember how she got there. Then she glanced through the canopy as she rubbed her eyes. “But I’m kind of hungry." The captain retrieved a small, green package from the food locker and passed it to her, along with another bottle of water. "Eat slowly,” the captain advised. “This has everything your body needs. And continue to hydrate." “Thank you…." The girl stared at Kirel’s flight suit, looking for something. “I know I’m supposed to call you Captain, but can you tell me your name?” “Chirakis.” It didn’t seem to register. “I am Captain Chirakis, Lieutenant.” Kirel nodded congenially. “Oh. Okay. So, thank you, Captain Chirakis… for the food. And for well... you know... saving me.” The girl waited, seeming to want a response. Kirel gave her customary short nod. Madelyn fumbled with the package and eventually conquered it. She took a tentative bite, then studied the wrapper, reading the contents thoroughly. Smiling at Kirel, she took another bite, chewing thoughtfully as she regarded the captain’s PADD. “Something else, Lieutenant?” Kirel asked finally. “What are you reading?” “Information possibly needed at my destination.” “Oh.” She took another bite, then fished in her tunic pocket. Confused, she stopped to strain her eyes toward the PADD. “The answer to your question is yes. I took it from your pocket.” The captain’s gaze met hers. “Where did you get it?” “The captain… my captain… Captain Belton? He gave it to me. He said it was important. I was supposed to give it to the commanding officer at my destination when I arrived. Well… actually… he said if I arrived.” “And what was your destination?” She shrugged, taking another bite, then disposing of the wrapper. “I really don’t know. He just gave me some coordinates. That’s it.” “And why did Captain Belton send you instead of your helmsman?” She stopped chewing and stared at the floor for a moment, then swallowed hard. “He’s dead.” After a pause, Kirel stowed her PADD and shifted her seat to piloting position. “We will be landing soon, Lieutenant. I suggest you prepare. Your helmet is behind the seat. Put it on and do not remove it until I tell you to. Do you understand?” “Yeah. I mean… yes, Captain.” * * * * * * * * * Just over an hour later, they reached the docking bay of Rendezvous October, situated below ground on an asteroid between Federation and Ferengi space. When Madelyn removed her darkened helmet, her mouth dropped open and she froze half-way out of the seat.They were in a cave. Well, kind of a cave. At least it looked like a cave. It had this weird lighting, kind of like a fighter bay. But the only thing that made it look like a fighter bay was... well... the fighters. And the plane crews. And the bay chief. And the equipment. And the floor. And the…. She blinked. There must have been over a hundred workers in the bay. Some of them were armed. And they were all standing still. Their eyes were fixed on the captain’s fighter. Oh no… they were fixed on her… and their weapons were pointed…. A firm grasp on her upper arm jerked her out of the seat. “Now, Lieutenant. State your name, rank, and posting.” “Yes, ma’am,” she squeaked, then swallowed and took a deep breath, trying to ignore the stares that came from every angle. “Lieutenant Madelyn Logan, Operations Officer, USS Vladivostok.” After a moment, “Voice print is verified, Captain,” came from the intercom. “Welcome aboard.” “Thank you, Chief. Lieutenant Logan.” The captain turned to her. Madelyn was shrinking away from one of the plane crew who stood on a platform ladder at her side, his hand extended as he waited to assist her. The rest of the crews had returned to work, and the hum of activity resumed. Slowly, the lighting returned to normal, and her pupils had adjusted; she was in a fighter bay, but somewhere underground, and probably somewhere super-secret, like in the movies…. “Lieutenant. Logan.” Her head snapped to the captain. Yeah, she was ticked. “Yes, ma’am?” “Sergeant Murphy will be your escort while you are here.” She nodded to the young man whose hand was still out, waiting. “He will take you to our medical personnel and then to billeting.” “I don’t bite,” said Murphy, smiling. “Let’s get you settled in, make sure you’re okay, get you some chow. How about it?” “Uh… yeah, okay. Murphy?” Only when she took his hand did she realize how weak she was. Her legs were trembling, and getting out of the fighter would have been a major accomplishment if he hadn’t been there. “You can call me Tim,” he said with a congenial smile. “It’s a lot easier than Murphy.” * * * * * * * Kirel stepped out of the cockpit and slid down her side of the fighter, landing easily on the tarmac. “Walk with me,” she said as she handed her gloves and helmet to the crew chief. “How many are we?” “Close to four hundred by last count, Captain. More coming in every day, but we’re slow in vetting them.” He handed her a PADD, which she read through and signed, then passed back. “A lot of records were purged when they were declared persona non grata.” “Understandable. Where is my team?” “Deck 8, substrata.” "And Admiral Solokov?" "CnC, with Admiral Mulligan." “Thank you, Chief. Take good care of Drakkor. You might be interested in her upgrades. Have a look, but don’t touch.” “Of course, Captain. We’ll keep her secure.” Equidistant from Federation and Ferengi space, a small group of asteroids floats, tethered to each other by a fragmented planet’s gravitational field. There, in collaboration with the Federation and to their mutual benefit, the Ferengi Alliance built a commercial complex where several corporations developed and tested new technology. One asteroid used by a number of technology corporations was devoted to ASTech (/Aztec/), Air & Space Technology, the premiere developer of cutting-edge technology for military and civilian spacecraft. A variety of unmarked spacecraft, especially fighters and specialized small craft, came and went from their facility with ease. It was the perfect place to house the base known as Rendezvous October. Beneath a dome that furnished both atmosphere and security, ASTech’s corporate headquarters was nondescript. Beneath the storage and maintenance levels, and the ASTech corporate landing bays, was Rendezvous October, with coded access through the corporate bays. Here, Drakkor had landed, only one of many fighters and other craft used by operatives from the Allied Powers, chief among them being Starfleet Intelligence and the Tal Shiar. "Admiral Solokov." Kirel acknowledged the gray haired officer who turned as her escort admitted her to October’s Command and Control center. "Captain Chirakis," said Solokov, moving to greet her, then turning to gesture toward the others present. "You know Admiral Mullins of Federation Security,… Captain Raza of Starfleet Intelligence, Division 6,... and Riov t'Aldani of the Tal Shiar." "I do," she said, greeting each superior in turn before they resumed their business. “Any word from USS Vladivostok?" she asked. “Vladivostok?" A brow shot up as he gave it some thought. “Not that I am aware. She’s a science vessel, Oberth class, specially modified to explore areas of high radiation, stellar prominences, emission nebulae, that type of thing, so they are not usually in this area of space. There’s really no reason for them to contact us. Why do you ask?" "Twelve hours ago I rescued their operations officer, Lieutenant Madelyn Logan. She was drifting in space, in a cross-platform fighter, on a direct course to Aegis, to deliver this." She handed the data crystal to Solokov. “What kind of cross-platform?” the admiral queried, regarding the crystal. “A strange mix of technologies and a different hull configuration, with a Klingon-Romulan console.” His brow furrowed. “Go on.” “She said she did not know her destination, that Captain Belton had only given her some coordinates, gave her the data crystal, and ordered her to deliver it to the commanding officer at her destination, which, of course, would have been me. Sergeant Murphy, SI-5, is escorting her. He is expert in… casual interrogation through relaxed conversation.” The Admiral regarded the crystal again, lips tight, and gave a knowing nod. “In any event,” Kirel continued, “the information on the crystal may or may not have something to do with Argesil. However, if the Vladivostok is missing we might want to investigate.” “Of course. Lieutenant Kapar," Solokov turned toward a prominent display, "Get me the last known location of USS Vladivostok." "Yes, Admiral.” A few taps of the young man’s console brought a report onscreen. “Its last known location was…” he paged down, “...the outskirts of Nebula 236A. They were investigating signals in the nebula that were inconsistent with data they gathered a year ago, Admiral. Do you want me to go into the nitty-gritty and read the specifics of the science report?" "No, Lieutenant. When was that report filed?" "Six days ago, sir." “Is there any evidence of weapons fire or debris?" Kirel asked. Kapar swiveled to face her. "We can't detect weapons fire or debris at this distance, ma'am, but we haven’t received any reports from that area." Solokov turned the crystal over in his palm several times before handing it to Kapar as he spoke to Chirakis. “I'll let you know what we find." Aboard USS Missouri Three Days Later - Stardate 2388.012 Captain Je’rit d’Ka strode smoothly from Missouri’s command lift onto the bridge. “Commander Lei’ri, the conference room, now. Mr. Tan,” said d’Ka speaking to the operations officer, “call Colonel Anastis and Commander Grigori to the conference room immediately. Mr. Doland, continue on course. Mr. Tan, you have the conn.” A series of “Aye, sir,” followed the officers as they left the bridge, the door to the conference room closing swiftly behind them. “They have found the crew of USS Vladivostok,” d’Ka began as he rounded the conference table and tapped its top to engage the wall screen. Lei’ri’s expression brightened as he joined d’Ka at the screen, arms crossed to listen. “One of their crew escaped and delivered a datacrystal to Rendezvous October.” “October?” Lei’ri raised a brow. “Who on Vladivostok has October clearance?” “No one,” d’Ka replied. “According to the report, Captain Belton gave the crystal to their operations officer. She stole an alien craft, entered the coordinates the captain gave her, and left, not knowing where she was going or what was on the crystal. She was bound for Sky Harbor Aegis when her vessel lost all power, and she was rescued by Captain Chirakis. “Colonel. Commander.” D’Ka and Lei’ri turned to the opening conference room door. “Join us. We have an urgent mission.” The captain’s swipe along the tabletop opened several screens to show a remote area of space. “The crew of USS Vladivostok has been located on a remote nebular planetoid, here.” One screen zoomed in. "It is reported to be cold, but not uninhabitable, composed mostly of granite with little to no vegetation. We are presently en route to Valaria, but will change course within the hour and run silent at best speed for extraction. "The aliens…." Another screen took precedence. "....are believed to be humanoid. Head and face are always covered, reason unknown. We have no idea who they are, and know nothing of their capabilities or purpose, but we do know that they are technologically advanced and possibly hostile. "Their ship….” Several images filled the screen. "....is similar to the one we have been watching. However, the presence of older Federation craft, Romulan warbirds, and customized small craft are noted here, and here. Where these images were taken is unknown, so we will expect at least some craft to be on planet unless we hear otherwise in the next few hours. “Colonel Anastis, your Nightmares will conduct planetary reconnaissance and serve as overwatch and backup. Commander Grigori, your Banshees will move in to rescue. The nebula is dense and will not allow transporter use, so it will be a shuttle recovery. Missouri’s Crusaders will provide atmospheric cover. Missouri will stay within weapons range. Questions so far?" The two officers studied the screens, then gave a collective, “No, sir.” “Vladivostok’s crew numbered 128. Some are known to be dead, and some are severely injured. Pull all your medical personnel into the operation. Missouri’s medical will assist—from Peacekeepers if needed—but your teams should be prepared to carry the injured out. Get with your teams, formulate your plan, and coordinate with the squadron commander. Questions?” “Yes, Captain,” said Grigori, manipulating the planetary screen. “Do we have any more information on the planet, itself? Gravity, tectonic stability?” “What information we have on the planet and the crew’s exact location has been uploaded to your personal slates, but we will not rely on it. When we are in range, Cdr Stevenson in science will give us a more comprehensive assessment.” “Armaments? Ships in orbit?” asked Anastis. “Do we know where these images came from?” “In answer to your first, we know of no ships in orbit, but we will know when we arrive. As for the images, Vladivostok’s commanding officer, Captain Belton, furnished them.” Belton's image appeared onscreen. “They were in a file delivered by an escapee. Starfleet Intelligence has examined them and determined them to be genuine. As for armaments and orbital protection, we will learn more when we arrive.” Grigori’s frown deepened as he read through the information on his slate. “How long have they been there, Captain?” “Vladivostok entered that nebula for exploration over three weeks ago. And no,” d’Ka interjected, anticipating his question, “we do not know if they are alive, but until we have proof that they are dead, they are alive.” After a few moments of checking the screen and referring to their slates, the officers seemed satisfied. “ETA to the planetoid is five hours. You will be informed as soon as updates arrive. If there is nothing else, carry on.” A few minutes after the officers left found the Sindar captain and his Qr’var first officer staring at the closed conference room door. They remained there for several minutes, lost in thought. Finally, knowing the captain’s telepathic abilities, Lei’ri broke the silence. “Are they alive, Captain?” “Yes, ‘Ri,” he replied, his eyes becoming the deep purple of concern. “They are. But they may not be for long.” USS Vladivostok’s Planetoid 5 Days Later - Stardate 2388.017 Cdr Alex Worley Executive Officer, USS Vladivostok “I was as hollow and empty as the spaces between stars.” ― Raymond Chandler, The Long Goodbye Twilight melted into darkness as Cresta Sanchez watched the makeshift honor guard lay her husband next to the nine others who had died since the crew’s capture. When they withdrew, she knelt beside his body, but the tears that should have come did not. Frail as well as grief-stricken, she was wasting from a strange disease that threatened to run rampant through the crew unless Dr. Gardiner could stop it. After a few minutes, Commander Worley gently squeezed her shoulders, then helped her to a stand and led her back into the comparative warmth of the cave, away from her husband. The planetary sub-zero cold, made more bitter with sunset, would keep the body intact until they were rescued. Then he would receive the burial he deserved. They would drape his coffin with a Federation flag, render him full honors, and lay him to rest at home. Leave no one behind. Put your tears in a box. Lock them away. Turn your grief to determination. Survive. As soon as Worley had her settled, he returned to their temporary morgue, just shy of the cave’s entrance, where he could gaze across the wasteland, as barren and frozen as they were in time. His jaw set, he stared at the stars with a childlike hope: the belief that if he watched, if he thought hard enough and waited long enough, someone would come. Then, half believing that his thought was folly, he would remember the young operations officer, Madelyn Logan, who risked her life to save theirs, daring to believe she could escape and go for help. She made it, he told himself, beating back the doubt. He would not lose hope. They could take everything from him, even his life, but he would never lose hope. “Commander?” “Yes, Salak?” Worley half turned toward the astrophysicist. “Captain Belton wishes to see you.” Within the Vulcan’s stoic expression was an alarming hint of sorrow. Worley dashed down the slippery rock floor, stumbling a few times until he rounded the corner to the warmer area where most of the crew huddled. Jim Belton lay propped up with several blankets wrapped tightly around him, his face like wax, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling, his lips blue, and parted for nothing more than shallow breaths. Stacey Gardiner, ship’s doctor, knelt next to him, choking back her emotions as she watched his vital signs fade. Catching his breath, Worley dropped down next to her as she shook her head. “He has the disease,” she whispered in his direction, fighting tears. “I don’t know what to do beyond holding his hand. His injuries…” she left off, swallowing back a deep pain Worley knew all too well. “One at a time, I could deal with it…,” she continued, pleading, “but his injuries…. He’s just too weak, Al. He’s just....” “It’s okay, Stace,” he whispered, squeezing her hand. “I’ll take it from here.” Rage Against the Darkness "Do not go gently into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light.” — Dylan Thomas, Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night The rolling hills of New Zealand shone more vibrant than he remembered. The path was smoother, the grass more lush, fragrant, and full—if that were possible. The scent of new mown hay hung in the air, and hedgerow blossoms bowed, heavy with pollen and eager honey bees that darted to and fro, across the path he had wandered as a child. Herds grazed or basked in the late afternoon sun, soaking up the warmth of mid-summer, and he laughed. Here he was, making plans for the beach while the North American continent was suffering one of the worst winters in recorded history. He shouldn't laugh, he told himself. Then he laughed again. This day, this place, was perfect. Absolutely perfect. In the distance, one long blast signaled the ferry’s last departure for the mainland. From the top of the hill, Jim Belton watched it pull noiselessly away from the dock toward open ocean, Dace Lingo at the helm, maneuvering it with the intricate skill of a master helmsman. It would be a short trip, just shy of an hour. Three related families had purposely chosen this island for their herds and crops. “Close enough for convenience and far enough away for privacy,” his father always said. “Jimmy...." His mother’s call drifted uphill on the breeze. It triggered a ravenous appetite, and he checked his chronograph. Homemade sausage, mashed potatoes with fresh churned butter, sliced deep red tomatoes still warm from the sun, and rich, dark coffee was waiting. Belton hopped the hedgerow then jogged downhill toward the main house, still amazed at his mother’s vigor and the carry of her voice, despite her age. His father was the same: strong, determined, hard-working, and openly opinionated as to how his farm, the island, the country, and the Federation should be run. They were a hearty people. Their ancestors had settled this island somewhere in the mid 19th century, and countless generations had inhabited the house, additions built as family size demanded, and pastures widened according to need. “Tea’s ready,” said his mother as he bounded up the steps and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. “I made your favorite for your homecoming. It is so good to have you home again, but c'mon now; we’ve waited long enough.” "So've I, Mum," he sighed, content. "So've I." Thankful that his arduous journey was finally over, Belton paused on the porch for a moment, then turned to watch the ferry disappear, and to inhale the crisp salt air. Only then did he notice dark clouds looming on the horizon. Coming from that direction at this time of year meant that it would not be an ordinary summer rain. In fact, it could be devastating. Heavy, black clouds choked the setting sun, billowed into the stratosphere and took ominous aim at the island, rolling across the water with uncommon speed, churning the waves into a witch’s cauldron and spewing foam onto the shore well before the crests reached land. Mesmerized, Belton ignored his mother's plea to come in, his eyes fixed on the storm’s apocalyptic advance. When he finally turned to lead her to safety, his hand smacked against a cold, dank wall, and the echo of a heavy drip… drip… drip came from somewhere behind him. His mother was gone, as was the house, the yard, the farm, and the roiling sea, replaced with a hell he barely remembered. A residual slime clung to his hands as he fumbled and slipped through the darkness, feeling for an exit, or at least a handhold, fighting against confusion, disorientation, and panic. Then came the stench, and the putrid taste of death on his tongue, trickling down his throat and raging throughout his body until a surge of adrenaline opened his eyes and he stopped cold. After several forceful blinks, his eyes focused on a strange creature kneeling beside him. One of its hands held his mouth closed, and the other stroked his head—much like a parent would a child—while it made a strange humming sound. A blanket swaddled his body, pinning his arms to his torso. Belton swallowed, then struggled to retch in the realization that the putrid taste of death was real, coming from a mass of decayed vegetation the creature had stuffed into his mouth. His chest heaved as he choked, trying to breathe, until the creature tilted his head enough to open the airway, just before he passed out. Belton awoke… several hours later? He wasn’t sure. Time didn’t seem to mean anything anymore. The creature was gone, along with whatever it had put into his mouth. But the taste was still there, like soaked deadfall from a hundred year old forest floor where some animal had left its mark long ago, and its droppings had made a sick infusion. “Jim? You’re awake?” said a hesitant voice beside him. Belton’s head lolled in that direction, but the darkness was nearly total. Still, he knew that voice… from somewhere... from another time, another place…. “Al?” Belton’s wide-eyed struggle ended as an emergency chemlight brightened the immediate area, lighting the face of his first officer, Alex Worley. “Jim?” Worley breathed, still uncertain, his expression a mix of confusion, hope, excitement, and incredulity. “Jim! You’re alive!” Belton stared a minute. “Yeah,” he said, “I think so.” Then another face joined them, but it took Belton a minute to recognize Stacey Gardiner, Vladivostok’s chief physician. “Captain!” she whispered in awe, her eyes darting from his to Worley’s and back. “What happened?” “Happened?” Belton thought a moment. “I have no idea.” Aboard USS Missouri 2 Days Later - Stardate 2088.019 0100 hours, mission relative Colonel Anastis and Commander Grigori flanked Captain d’Ka as a small, barren, ice-covered planet appeared on the forward viewscreen, hanging like a glistening gem against a backdrop of oblivion: an irreconcilable oxymoron. As planets go, it was on the low end of the spectrum, and perfect for a penal colony. That it was even found was puzzling, except for the abundance of heavy metals. But heavy metals abounded in other, more accessible and workable places, such as asteroids. Why this planet? “They haven’t done any mining,” mused the science officer with a shrug, “aside from one long tunnel where we’ve detected the life signs, there’s no evidence that they even explored.” “You are certain the crew is alive?” said d’Ka, pensive. “Not entirely, Captain. The mineral content is both blocking and creating echoes in our readings, which could falsify the results. But I would say there is a very good chance that they are alive.” “Temperature on the surface?” “Negative thirty one degrees Celsius, estimated to drop another ten degrees within the operation window. The wind is presently at 25.7 kph from the north, holding steady, well within the tolerance of the teams’ equipment.” A glance at his Special Operations officers for affirmation, and d’Ka nodded. “Very well. Colonel, Commander, the mission is yours,” he said, returning to the command chair. Onscreen, two Starfleet Special Operations elements in Arctic operations gear, left the safety of their runabouts and advanced in a moonless night against a cutting wind that whipped ice against their full-face visors and plastered their suits tight against their bodies as they leaned into it. Having landed in seclusion far from their objective, their ETA was well over an hour. Given the atmospheric conditions and disruption from the planet’s mineral content, they knew it could be much longer—possibly creeping into the range of two or three hours. One hour turned into two, and still the teams advanced, keeping constant contact with the ship for verification of their position. Temperatures continued to drop, but so did the wind, making progress easier. At 0352, their objective came into view, and they stopped to regroup. * * * * * Not far from the SPECOPS teams’ objective, Commander Worley stepped wearily down the narrow path that served the crew as a guide to their makeshift settlement within the cave. Three standard days would pass before dawn would break the horizon and the planet’s surface temperature would rise enough for them to survive outside the cave. Until then, they drew every blanket, emergency Mylar covering, and piece of clothing close. They huddled together in groups inside crude shelters made from rocks and the few packs they managed to bring from their ship. Then they slept, making the prolonged darkness easier to bear, and conserving what energy they had left. The commander made periodic rounds, praying they wouldn’t lose any more to cold, starvation, or disease. Captain Belton and the others who had been treated by the aliens seemed to be recovering. Doctor Stacey Gardiner’s hope that many of the crew would survive was tempered by their lack of nourishment. But survival hinged largely on will, so she wisely kept her thoughts to herself. “Stace,” said Worley as he squeezed into a space next to her. “You holding up okay?” “Um…” she replied listlessly. “As much as anyone can under these conditions. What are they doing out there?” “Piling crates against the walls, making the outlet smaller. I think they finally got the idea that we’re cold.” His tone and smile came off as more sardonic than lighthearted. “You don’t think they’re boxing us in?” “Oh, no. If they wanted to do that they’d use rocks, or maybe fuse the cave shut with… whatever those weapons are.” “Phasers? Disruptors?” Worley shrugged. “They don’t look like either. I think the name and nature’s up for grabs.” He hugged her close. “Warm enough?” “Warm as I’ll ever be, I guess.” * * * * * “Doghouse, this is Bulldog.” The call from SPECOPS unit commander Lt Ed Lytle came through clearly. “In position, how copy?” “Copy, Bulldog,” Grigori replied. “Copy is solid, but visual is limited. Do you have eyes on?” “Negative, Doghouse. Request you verify the position of the hostile.” The lieutenant’s voice held a tinge of confusion. “Transmitting now, Bulldog. Stand by,” Gregori replied as d’Ka pointed to his tactical officer. A few taps on his console, and Sojek looked up, puzzled and seemingly speechless. “Mr. Sojek?” d’Ka’s chair swiveled in his direction. "There is no sign of the alien ship, Captain, nor are there any life signs other than those below ground." D’Ka took a moment to process that. “Has Ramius detected any ships leaving the area?” he said, with not a little skepticism. “No, Captain. Their report clearly states that there is not even a residual emission trail. Also, both their tachyon detection grid and their graviton subspace field-current scanner show negative.” “Mr. Ellis?” He turned to the science officer. “As far as our scanners are concerned, there’s nothing there, Captain,” she replied, as puzzled as her Vulcan counterpart, “and there never has been.” D’Ka, Lei’ri, Gregori, and Anastis exchanged glances. “Watchdog, Doghouse. Do you have eyes on?” Anastis commed the recon team this time. “Doghouse, Watchdog. Negative.” “What do you see, Watchdog?” “Well, sir, a whole lotta blowing snow, ice, and rocks. HUD* shows nothing in the area, no evidence of landing, not even pod marks. We’ve been around the barn a few times, and, well, sir, there is no hostile evidence outside the cavern.” “Can you see anything inside from your position?” “Yes, sir. Ten frozen bodies, humanoid, Starfleet uniforms, and a bunch of boxes piled at the entrance with just enough opening to get in and out.” “What kind of boxes?” “They look like ‘Fleet supply boxes, sir. We would have to move in to verify the contents.” In answer to Anastis’ look, d’Ka said, “Proceed.” “Watchdog, Doghouse. Proceed with caution,” said Anastis, automatically looking up at the viewscreen. The images were barely visible, but their movement patterns, enhanced by the computer, would have to suffice. ______ *Heads Up Display * * * * * Aboard USS Missouri Stardate 2388.021 - 2 days later En Route to Aegis Although activity on the bridge of USS Missouri had settled to a normal pace, an undercurrent of apprehension veiled the atmosphere. Heavy. Palpable. A curtain of suspicion and fear that was disturbing enough to distract Captain d’Ka from reading the After Action Report he had just received from Commander Anastis. It was common knowledge that the remaining crew of USS Vladivostok had been rescued and were recovering in sick bay, and many had attended the ceremony for the ten who had been laid to temporary rest in the morgue. The cogs of the rumor mill were hungry. Feeding on observations and whispers, they eagerly ground them up and spit out enough fodder to fill the void for months. The minimal hiss and vague scent of mocha that drifted through the opening lift doors went ignored by Captain d’Ka while he continued to read, his expression grim. “Captain,” said Commander Lei’ri as he secured the captain’s mug in the command chair’s holder, “the replicator is still not sure of the formula, but a few in science are familiar with the herbs. Hopefully they fashioned something closer to the original.” “Um…” mused d’Ka continuing to read, “thank you, ‘Ri.” After a moment he looked up. “Any progress on the rumors?” “Department Chiefs are working on it,” Lei’ri replied, settling into his chair, coffee mug in hand. The captain’s brow knit, his lips pursed. “My ready room, Commander,” he said. “Mr. Sojek, you have the bridge.” The tactical officer’s acknowledgment was barely heard before the ready room doors closed and d’Ka strode across the room. “Working on it, is not enough, Commander,” he snapped, tossing the PADD on his desk where it clattered to a stop just short of the opposite corner. He stopped, took a moment, then forced a slow exhale. “Apologies, ‘Ri,” he said quietly, then turned to wave his executive officer into an easy chair before settling wearily into the other. “I feel everything on this ship… see everything... hear everything. It is the price I pay for agreeing to command a predominantly human starship.” He sighed, sensing his counterpart’s scrutiny, the Qr’var sensitivity on which he depended. “The rumors must stop, ‘Ri, and they must stop now. Do whatever you must to accomplish that.” “Yes, Captain.” “These alien beings are formidable,” d’Ka continued, “and the crew’s suspicions threaten to make them even moreso. Contrary to their belief, these aliens are not ‘omniscient,’ they are not ‘ethereal,’ they have no ‘supernatural powers,’ they cannot ‘poof into thin air,’ and they are not... ‘cannibals.’” His eyes flashed dangerously close to violet as he stared across the room. They sat for several minutes, the silence disturbed only by the gentle hum of Missouri’s engines. “Keann-aí,”* Lei’ri said finally. “Your anger is more than I have seen since Grathor. But it is not against the crew or the aliens, is it. There is something more, something deeper." "Yes,” he admitted after a long pause. “I rage against myself for waiting too long. Against Starfleet for not finding them sooner. Against the situation... against the universe... against creation itself.” A sadness crept into his expression, then a sardonic smile that vanished as quickly as it came. “I rage to control the grief. “Theirs was a senseless death, ‘Ri. They died out of their captor’s ignorance. Doctor Shazarim informed me that the crew did not lack the proper nutrition; they lacked the proper amount of nutrition. The beings tried to adjust both the substance and the quantity, but what they concocted was so revolting that most of the crew could not eat it without regurgitating. When Missouri entered the system the alien vessel left, but they left crates of Starfleet rations at the mouth of the cave.” The captain’s eyes searched the room. “Why, ‘Ri? Why did they wait? The food was there all along. The crew was starving. Why did they wait? “I can think of several reasons, Captain,” Lei’ri offered cautiously. “If they were ignorant of the humanoids’ needs, they could have been ignorant of the crates’ contents, unable to read the label, unable to understand that the contents were edible, or they removed the crates without looking at the contents and simply left them behind.” “Um,” d’Ka replied, the pangs of anger, grief, and helplessness subsiding, if only a little. “You are wise beyond your years, ‘Ri,” he said on a sigh, then straightened up. “Doctor Shazarim also confirmed that the fermented leaves the beings fed to Captain Belton and the others who fell ill saved their lives. That, in itself, speaks well of the alien culture. Commander Worley gave him samples that will be passed on to Dr. Pavilion. Aegis’ advanced medical and science facilities should be able to analyze them. “But back to the rumors. We have no evidence that these particular beings are here for a hostile takeover of Allied space. In fact, we have evidence to the contrary. What the crew of Vladivostok endured is inexcusable, but the beings did not kill them, nor did they torture them for information, nor did they act as hostile invaders in any other way. “However, if these rumors continue, the crew will soon be convinced that they are up against an unconquerable foe. They will shrink in a crisis, jump to conclusions, or mistake an amiable gesture for a hostile one. And if they do that, these formerly friendly beings will retaliate and become hostile. Deal with the rumors in any way you can, 'Ri, and do so quickly. You have free rein.” ______________ Keann-aí - the Sindar word for captain, used when showing great respect.