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Thread: Star Trek RPG - Mission #4: "Codex Aelyrr"

  1. #2351
    Oliphaunt SidonianGal's avatar
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    Nia's surprised by Collins's remark about the investigation being open, but before she can ask further, Singh walks in and gives Nia her marching orders. With a nod, she heads down the stairs to the turbolift, where she sends a message to St. Croix asking her to meet Nia at the Brig.

    She's disappointed, to say the least, that she has to put off seeing Booker. Truth is, Nia's not entirely sure what she's doing in this Klingon interview. That's what I get for opening my big mouth and offering a suggestion, she thinks ruefully.

    Still, since she has a little time to herself, Nia hurries to open Booker's message. Her smile widens at the words. She taps out a highly abridged reply.

    Book: I'm unbelievably glad to hear from you. Should've known a tough guy like you could survive a disruptor blast from two feet away. I'm off to question the Klingons--and I'll be sure to give your regards to the S.O.B. who blasted you. Let me know if I can bring you anything.

    When the turbolift doors open, she walks out, finishing the message by promising to visit ASAP then sending it off.

  2. #2352
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    Glad that the conversation appears to be over, Rangin turns back to his terminal and brings up Ens. Hayes report on the Aelyrr, interested to see what she has found and feeling slightly jealous she got the opportunity, even though it is her area of expertise.

    Noticing the message from Kylah, his hearts skips a beat before he brings up the nerve to open it and is instantly grateful when he does before tapping a note back to her.

    "Kylah - good to hear you're up and around again. Relieved that Mr Johnson is every bit as good a cook as he makes out. I don't know about any card, I just asked him to provide breakfast. I don't know what might have happened to your communicator, maybe Engineering would be able to find out.

    Would be around later on, I'd like to say thanks for everything that happened, instead of just sending a text. Velir"
    In the land of the blind, the one-arm man is king.

  3. #2353
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    St. Croix soon meets Onn in the Yorktown's Brig. Lt. JG Tadeusz Kawecki, a Polish man in his mid-thirties with a trim Van Dyke beard, is the Security duty officer. "What can I do for you, Lieutenant?" he asks.

    Hayes's lengthy draft xenosociological report adds a good bit more to what Rangin already knows about the Aelyrr. They are a starfaring felinoid race with a matriarchal society and what appears to be a generally-benign theocratic state. They may be a Caitian offshoot, or perhaps vice-versa; that question will need considerable further study.

    The focus of their religion, which they call simply "the Faith," is Ael, a female monotheistic deity variously described as Goddess of All, Creator of the Universe, Most Blessed, Worthy of Eternal Praise, Mother of the Aelyrr and Progenitrix of the Faith. They have no belief in a Heaven or Hell analogue, unlike many religious cultures known to the Federation, but have a strong sense of destiny and/or fate as controlling their lives.

    The Codex Aelyrr is the book which binds, teaches and guides their culture. It is the cornerstone of the Faith, and the Aelyrr believe that in its chapters - Creation, Laws, Lore, Lineages, Teachings, Tales, Lamentations, Judgments, Praise, Condemnation and Prophecies - are to be found all that is necessary for their people to thrive, despite many past adversities. There are several known copies, but the one the Klingons took is the original, and it is extremely precious to the Aelyrr.

    They are carnivores with a maximum lifespan of approximately 80 years. Their technology generally appears to lag slightly behind the Federation's, although their engineering knowledge is considerable. They do not have marriage or an equivalent social construct, or any incest taboo. Females are fertile six times a year and conceive after indiscriminate sexual intercourse with available males, bearing litters of four to six cubs after a five-month gestation period. The young are typically raised by males, who make up about 30% of the population and are almost always kept away from strangers (there are none, Rangin remembers, among the Naradraen's crew, warriors or clerics).

    From the little she heard of it, Aelyrr music is, at least according to Hayes, not pleasant to Human ears.
    Last edited by Elendil's Heir; 01 Mar 2016 at 01:41 PM.

  4. #2354
    Ape must not kill ape! general_urko's avatar
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    Graham reads Nia's message several times.

    Whether his odds of survival were relatively greater or not, "better me than anybody else" getting shot, he thinks as he reflects on the mission and people on the team.

    Certainly better me than Nia, he winces, remembering the pain in his leg. Yeah, so I'm biased that I don't want her to feel that more than any of the others...so sue me in a Federation court...

    But getting hit, the shock of it, the detour into unconsciousness and Sickbay...

    It's woken you up out of fantasy-land, Booker. What the hell are you doing? Sure it's great to be messing around with a hot...very hot...younger woman. And to feel like--to imagine--that it might be something serious....But for god's sake why are you wasting her time?


    He's not entirely convinced by his self-recriminations. But his self-recrimination doesn't stop, either.

    He tries to start writing a note to his daughter.

    Lizzy - Everything is fine. But I got shot by a Klingon.


    Fuck. What the hell kind of letter is that.


    Nia. I could ask Nia what I should say to Lizzy....

    Fuck.

  5. #2355
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    Kylah is in the middle of trying to learn more about how the mission ended when she receives the message from Velir. She hugs herself as she reads it, both because she feels a little chilly but also to remind herself that she is awake now. He seems so friendly, even warm.

    Perhaps all they need is time. One day--nearly two--of not interacting apart from work might have helped ease or possibly repair the wounds to their relationship. Like her weary body, their emotions apparently needed to recuperate from all the trauma they have endured.

    Strange about the card, she thinks, frowning a little. Perhaps it was some sort of ship census? She will figure it out somehow.

    Kylah does not answer right away, although she wants to. But after spending so many hours in sleep, taking more time for personal communications feels negligent.

    Instead she focuses on massaging her temple--her ears still feel strange, as if the silence is too loud--and most of all, catching up on all she missed. Is there a ship-wide log or report on the events of the mission? She is quite curious to see how the Codex was saved without the Klingons harming it--or anyone on either side getting harmed, for that matter. Then again... she does not know if the latter is true. Mr. Johnson did not mention any injuries, but Kylah is not convinced he would have told her.

    The thought of the Codex makes her sigh. I wish I could have seen it myself. How she yearns to examine such a relic! Imagine, a new written language--well, not new, quite the opposite in fact, but certainly new to the entirety of the Federation.

    Kylah shakes her head, knowing there is little chance of this wish coming true, and searches for the latest internal updates, if any.
    Last edited by choie; 01 Mar 2016 at 11:33 PM.

  6. #2356
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    "Lt. Kawecki," Nia says with a quick smile and nod. "St. Croix and I are here to help Cmdr. Vargas, or whoever's around, with any interrogations of the prisoners."

    While she speaks, she reaches back and pulls her heavy ponytail forward. She's seen Klingon women and knows, generally speaking, the look that's prized by their men. Prim and businesslike ain't it. So with a tug, she yanks her clip out and lets her hair fall loose and a bit wild around her face.

    Obviously she's not going to seduce the prisoners into giving up their secrets; they'll be too smart for that. But she'll take any advantage she can. They won't have seen a Sidonian before, and with her darker skin and scales, Nia actually resembles a Klingon as much as she does one of the hated humans. It might not help, but it certainly can't hurt.

    She combs a hand through her hair to make the curls even less tame, continuing: "I think we should start with the first batch, unless someone's already in with them. Don't you think?" With a glance at St. Croix to confirm her suggestion, she looks back at Kawecki. "What's the latest you've got, if anything?

  7. #2357
    Member Elendil's Heir's avatar
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    Cmdr. Vargas coughs into his fist as Graham works on his correspondence. He says, "I can see you're busy, Ensign. I'll check back later." He turns for the door.

    There is no declassified shipwide-accessible log of missions or recent events. Kylah could ask someone who was in the boarding party, or see what she might learn through scuttlebutt. Soerjosoemarno returns with a new communicator for her. "Have you had a new one since you came aboard?" he asks. "It's easy to synch it with the personal settings from your shipboard comm account."

    Kawecki watches Onn's impromptu hairstyling with interest, then calls the Bridge and confirms that she and St. Croix are authorized to see the six Klingon prisoners. He says, "We've kept them in separate cells and under mute-fields, so they can't talk to each other. They've identified themselves as members of the mercenary company Fek'lhr's Forsaken. Their scoutship was the Koraga. The three captured on the Naradraen were," he checks a datapad, "Klern, Klev and Kanel. The three you captured on the shuttle are Khroth, Khend and Karok. Khroth is apparently the captain, and Khend is the second officer. The rest are common crew. They all seem bored and surly, and complain about the food. None of them has wanted to talk much otherwise, although Cmdr. Vargas believes that Kanel is marginally the most reasonable and talkative of the lot."

    http://memory-alpha.wikia.com/wiki/Fek%27lhr
    Last edited by Elendil's Heir; 02 Mar 2016 at 12:40 AM.

  8. #2358
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    Startled by Soerjosoemarno's voice, Kylah turns swiftly toward him. She peers at her colleague as if expecting him to be a ghost. After a few seconds, long enough to be noticeable, she holds out her hand and accepts the communicator.

    "Thank you, sir." She swallows and takes a deep breath. Why does it feel as if everyone is sneaking up on her? "I am very grateful. My old communicator was given to me when I boarded the ship. I do know I can sync everything, but..." But she does not want her data on too many devices connected to the Starfleet network. Of course she cannot say that, and unfortunately, Kylah cannot think of another rationale.

    "I would still like to find out what happened to this one," she finishes with a gesture toward the device on her hip. "Perhaps I did something wrong--I would not like to repeat the mistake." Placing the new communicator on the counter, she turns to Soerjosoemarno. "Sir, do you know anything about what happened on the mission? All I know is that the Codex was returned. How did the team manage this? Klingons do not submit in battle nor cede to victors even at the cost of their own lives. Are they... were there any killed?"

  9. #2359
    Oliphaunt SidonianGal's avatar
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    Thanking Kawecki, Nia asks to be taken to the Naradraen's captured Klingons. Almost unconsciously, she gets into her role while walking by changing her physical posture and gait. She lifts her chin, straightens her back, and strides forward like Cmdr. Vargas on his cockiest day. She also adjusts her uniform, lowering the stretchy neckline so that the scales on her shoulders and upper chest are more visible.

    On the way, she murmurs to St. Croix, "I don't think a typical good-cop/bad-cop scenario will work here. So I want to warn you, I'll be treating you pretty obnoxiously in there. I think you should act defiant at first, then deferential. Let's let 'em think I intimidate humans and hold you in mild contempt." She gives a sideways glance to her companion. "I think they might grudgingly approve of that, though I doubt you will. Sorry in advance. Anyway, you're the Klingon expert here. Any suggestions?"

  10. #2360
    Member Elendil's Heir's avatar
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    Soerjosoemarno tells Kylah, "They had to beam aboard the Klingon shuttle and were able to recover the Codex. No one was killed; they were able to stun and capture all the Klingons - four or five of them, I heard. Ens. Graham was hit by a disruptor bolt and had to undergo surgery, but they say he's going to be OK."

    St. Croix replies, "I'm no expert on Klingons, ma'am, really, but your plan sounds as good as any - especially if Cmdr. Vargas hasn't really gotten anywhere with them. I'll follow your lead, just as you say." She grins. "I suppose I don't mind being insulted or pushed around a little for a good cause."

    Kawecki asks, "Which Klingon would you like to talk to first?"

  11. #2361
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    Kylah gasps and stands up, her mouth parted while she stares numbly at Soerjosoemarno. "Mr. Graham? A disruptor..." A vision enters her head of a man running toward her, followed by a burst of bright blue energy, and then the remains--merely ash--crumbling to the ground like dust scattered at her feet. She covers her mouth and forces the memory away, then lowers her hand enough to ask: "Was he--are you sure he will be all right? Is he talking? Can he receive visitors? May I go? When I am off watch, I mean?" she adds regretfully.

  12. #2362
    Ape must not kill ape! general_urko's avatar
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    Graham flushes--blushes, really--"I'm..."

    I figured you were just waiting for an excuse to leave, that you felt you had better things to do.... he thinks, but does not say. But my bad for assuming it...

    "Sir, I apologize," Graham says. "I--I got it in my head I ought to tell my daughter what happened. I--well I appreciate the fact that your visit wasn't a pro forma in-and-out thing. I'm sorry I for all practical purposes treated it that way..."

    "Regardless, commander, if a senior officer is in fact not looking for an excuse to leave, it's--hell, as bad as can be to disrespect his or her willingness to say..."

    He pauses. "If you'd like to admonish me, sir, I have it on good authority I can't really move much, and I won't give you any sass back."

  13. #2363
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    Nia grins at St. Croix. "Good, thanks. I'll try not to be too awful, but sometimes I get carried away when role-playing." As more than one crewmate knows--not that they minded; to the contrary.

    Before responding to Kawecki--Damn, these 'K' names are hard to keep in mind. Lucky Ens. Kylah's not here--she eyes the Brig to assess her options.

    If the cells are side by side, none of the prisoners will know precisely to whom she's speaking. If they're in rows opposite one another, she'll be more visible. Sometimes having the subject know what's coming is useful--but the unexpected can have its advantages, too.

    She takes a deep breath. "Well, Kanel is tempting. Wish I knew exactly what Vargas asked, since I'd rather not repeat anything... but then again..." A thought strikes her and she smiles. This might actually be fun, if only to her. "Which one is he, Lt. Kawecki? In fact, if you don't mind, could you give me the details on who's in each cell? This way I'll know who to glare at menacingly."

  14. #2364
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    Soerjosoemarno says apologetically, "Sorry, I don't know any more about it than that. You could call Sickbay for an update, or get in touch with Mr. Graham directly, I guess. Is he a friend of yours?"

    Vargas chuckles. "Quite all right. I'll see you later. Take care, Mr. Graham." He leaves.

    Kawecki, Onn and St. Croix are in a small reception area just beyond the secure, heavy doorway to the Brig, a short distance from the turbolift alcove. A redshirt is standing at ease nearby, a phaser-2 on his hip. There is a similar doorway a few meters away, with a slightly-curved corridor leading beyond. A dozen cells with energy-barrier doors line the corridor to starboard (on your right), one after another. None of the occupants can see each other, and with the individual cells' mute-fields activated, they can't hear each other, either. As you go by, they can see you, however, and you can see them.

    Kawecki checks his datapad again, and lists the prisoners' cell placement:

    1 - Klern
    2 - Klev
    3 - empty
    4 - Kanel
    5 - empty
    6- Khroth, captain
    7- Khend, second officer
    8 - empty
    9 - Karok
    10 - empty
    11 - empty
    12 - empty

    Here's an Enterprise Brig cell from "Mirror, Mirror." We never saw much of the Brig in TOS: http://www.letswatchstartrek.com/wp-...69-300x224.png
    Last edited by Elendil's Heir; 03 Mar 2016 at 12:58 AM.

  15. #2365
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    Kylah has to pause before answering Soerjosoemarno's question. Is Mr. Graham a friend? He alternates between frightening and protecting her. But she must care about him, more than just an acquaintance or colleague. She would not have been so alarmed by his injury if she did not care.

    "Yes," she says, looking away as if the acknowledgement is presumptuous. "We worked together a great deal on the mission back at OC3. I will try Sickbay, thank you. I did not mean to barrage you with questions, sir. I just had no idea the team had been met with violence. I was told everything was all right..." Why did Mr. Johnson not tell me? But a glance at her shaking, clasped hands answers her question. He suspected she would worry.

    She sits down again and opens her new communicator to send a quick message.
    Mr. Graham. I hope you are able to read this. I thought a written note was best since you might need your sleep. Please forgive me for not getting in touch with you sooner. I spent an entire day in bed and had no idea you had been injured--if I had, I would have visited you by now, if it were allowed. I hope you are recovering. If you would not object and are up to it, I would very much like to see you. I wish to make sure you are all right. But if you need quiet or would prefer not to have visitors, or me specifically, please do not hesitate to tell me. Rest well. -- KYLAH
    Once finished, Kylah twists around toward her superior officer. "Do you have anything you need assistance with, Lieutenant? I would be glad for such a project, once I have completed my routine tasks." The longer she focuses on him, the odder she feels. He seems... so lifeless. She gets no sense of anything he might be feeling. It is curious and disconcerting; no humans are this controlled. Perhaps he is not human, or of mixed race. "If you do not mind my asking," she blurts before he can respond, "What is your background? You are not part Vulcan, are you?"
    Last edited by choie; 03 Mar 2016 at 04:48 PM.

  16. #2366
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    Nia tilts her head while viewing the list. "Interesting set-up. I wonder why the cells in between Klen and Kavel, and between the senior officers and Karok, were left empty. Why not distribute them evenly and just leave every other cell unoccupied? Is there some Security strategy behind it, do you know?"

    With a shrug, Nia puts her hands on her hips and begins her walk down the cell corridor, head held high and turning only to give the inmates a passing, speculative glance. If any prisoners meet her gaze, she won't smile or change her expression--basically, she wants to look as if she's a carved statue come to life.

    After she's reached the end of occupied cells, she returns to the center of the corridor, surveying the group. The ones closest should be able to see her.

    Then Nia turns to St. Croix, a scowl lowering her brow.

    "Okay, let's just pretend I'm asking a question and I'm displeased with something. Now I'm insulting you in some way, probably something about one of your parents, so feel free to look upset and a bit embarrassed."

    She lifts an arm and sweeps it in an arc to gesture at the cell block. "I'm extremely frustrated," she says casually. "This is an outrage, and so on. Not exactly sure what I'd be complaining about, but I want them to see me putting you in your place."

    Finally she leans closer to St. Croix, unsmiling. "And now I'm threatening your career and likened your intelligence to a mentally deficient tribble. Damn, it's too bad Starfleet doesn't do salutes. If you can think of any gesture that'll give the impression you're apologizing for whatever the heck I've just been yelling about, go for it. Click your heels and nod your head, if that's your style."

    Once this has gone on for a few minutes, and assuming St. Croix complies, Nia will then survey the motley crew before her, then stride toward Kanel.

    With a sharp look at the Klingon in the cell, Nia snaps out an order: "I wish to talk to this prisoner."
    Last edited by SidonianGal; 03 Mar 2016 at 05:18 PM.

  17. #2367
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    Soerjosoemarno says, "Yes, please review the latest comm traffic from the Anubis sector and Starfleet Command." In response to Kylah's question about his background, he smiles and says, "No one's ever mistaken me for a Vulcan before. No, I'm 100% Human, from Indonesia, on Earth. A little island town you never would've heard of."

    Kawecki shrugs at Onn's question about the prisoners' placement. "That's just how they happened to be put in. I wasn't on duty at the time, but I don't think there's any particular reason for it."

    The cells are arranged just far enough apart that only one can be looked into at a time. All of the Klingons look up when Onn and St. Croix come into view; most stare back. Kanel, having seen their little drama, doesn't get up from the built-in bed in his cell. He is tall and thin, with the characteristic sallow Klingon skin, smooth face (including forehead) and unkempt dark hair and beard. He is dressed in the same beat-up uniform and light body armor as the rest of the crew. His arms are crossed and he shows only slight interest at Onn's order.

    St. Croix does as Onn asked, and Kawecki plays along, too. He snaps to attention and says, "Of course, Lieutenant. Did you wish to enter the cell, or remain outside?"

  18. #2368
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    Kylah just looks at Soerjosoemarno, who might as well be a featureless wall. Her heart beats a little faster in disconcertment; she does not understand why he is so... opaque. Perhaps he does not know his true background? Or maybe these Indonesians are a unique race with unusual mental capabilities?

    It would be rude to ask such things, and Kylah cannot devise another way to find out. So she just nods and obeys his instructions, though her mind is now distracted and it takes her a little longer than usual to enter the correct commands to review the traffic.

    Soon, however, Kylah is examining the communications data sent between the Anubis sector and Starfleet.

  19. #2369
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    "Outside, for now," Nia says. There's no need to put herself at risk--or, more importantly, to give one of the prisoners the chance to use her as a hostage. It's exceedingly unlikely he'd get the chance, especially with two security officers nearby and Nia's own reptilian instincts for survival. But while it's improbable, she's not cocky enough to think it's impossible.

    Assuming Kawecki arranges it so that Kanel can hear her, Nia will step as close as possible to the cell entrance and examine him, hands back on her hips. "I'm Lt. Ve'ne'ko'nia'onn." She paces the width of the cell, still eyeing the Klingon, then reverses her path. "And you're Kanel," she says, as if accusing him. "Our First Officer tells me you have been cooperative. I'd prefer to judge for myself. What was your role in this raid? Who paid you to steal that relic?"

    Nia pauses and with a dismissive nod toward St. Croix, adds, "Though this security officer is human, she understands and speaks your language. Be as precise as you can."

  20. #2370
    Ape must not kill ape! general_urko's avatar
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    Graham's pleased--and a little surprised--to see a message from Kylah come through. Not that I wouldn't expect a note or a visit from her, I guess, but not necessarily that she'd--well, go out of her way to do it...because she hasn't always been--comfortable, I guess, around me...

    He reads it with a certain amount of alarm, confirming not only that she sounds a bit anxious, but also why the hell did she need to spend a whole day in bed?

    He realizes drilling down on that particular questions probably isn't the best way to make her feel more comfortable--or welcome as a visitor.

    Of course his attempts at humor haven't always been successful either, but he gives it a shot:

    Kylah - The more visitors I have, the less likely it is that boredom will tempt me into sneaking out of here in violation of Dr. Villa's orders. And I'd better stay on his good side since my tour on the Yorktown has only just started and I've already been shot once. Stop by anytime. He's not sure how to end it. "Mr. Graham" echoes how she generally speaks to him, but "Graham" seems ridiculous..."Booker" seems...weird. Why? He doesn't know, but goes with "BG."

  21. #2371
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    Kylah reviews the highlights of Anubis comm traffic. The Topgallant liner Star Destiny stopped at Anubis shortly after the Yorktown left, needing repairs to its environmental systems. The Martian freighter Gryphon was placed under quarantine by Starport Control and has still not been allowed to unload passengers or cargo after an outbreak of Poneli rotovirus. A shipping container of valuable hylanean ore went missing for almost six hours before being found in the wrong warehouse. A member of the Anubis planetary council resigned after a financial scandal involving her and two subordinates. An accused murderer being taken to Morra III for trial tried to escape from the custody of Federation marshals on the liner Persephone, but didn't get far.

    Starfleet Command communications have been largely routine since Kylah last checked: assignments, circulars, standing orders, press releases, announcements, reports, advisories, commendations, promotions, demotions, retirements, etc.

    Kanel remains seated, his arms crossed. He speaks Federation Standard with a somewhat thick but understandable accent. "Yes, I am Kanel. Why should I talk to you?"

    An orderly in Medical blue comes into Graham's room. "May I get you anything, Ensign? Something to eat or drink? There are no restrictions on your diet."

  22. #2372
    Ape must not kill ape! general_urko's avatar
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    "Really?" Graham says, turning his attention away from his correspondence toward the prospect of having whatever he wants to eat delivered. He's not sure why he would have assumed his diet was restricted given that his wound is in his leg--just something about being in Sickbay, I guess.

    He realizes he is in fact hungry. "Well, then--if it's not too much trouble, a sixteen ounce ribeye, rare, sounds really good...with mashed potatoes, lots of mashed potatoes, and gravy."

    He pauses a moment. "I suppose by definition I'm off duty...a nice stick-t-your-ribs stout to wash it down would surely help the healing process, too..."

  23. #2373
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    Kylah absently winds a loose, curly tendril of hair around her finger as she reads the data. The first thing that makes her curious is this Poneli rotavirus. She does not recall hearing of such an illness, and so she performs a quick database search to learn more. She also tries to see if the Gryphon's last destination has been recorded anywhere. It sounds like a civilian commercial ship, so she is unsure whether its routes have to be approved by Starfleet or Federation officials, but it is worth a look. The financial scandal involving a government official makes her scowl. Another one, so soon after Vice Admiral Hardin? Is there any similarity between the two cases?

    The mere mention of something on Anubis vanishing only to be found in a warehouse makes Kylah turn cold. Likely a merely mislaid item, a mere error of transport. But she cannot help learning more. Swallowing, she delves deeper to see if the location of the warehouse is known. And though she digs in her memory as best she can, she does not identify what hylanean ore is, or what use it has.

    She is astonished that an accused murderer could elude Federation marshals--but the fact that he or she chose Anubis as an escape destination does not surprise her. Not after the criminal element she ran into on the planet. But this is only an accused murderer, not a convicted one. Perhaps the charges are incorrect.

    Her attention is briefly distracted by the message from Mr. Graham. So he is awake, and sounding very much like himself. Relief relaxes her tense muscles. As soon as she has a break, she will visit him. A small smile tilts her lips. Perhaps he can be diverted with this mystery of the note left for her.

    Finally, if the details are not classified, she will read the Starfleet advisories and glance over the press releases/announcements. She also takes a quick look at the various personnel status changes, wondering if she recognizes any names. Her uncle will be interested in any changes in what he would label the 'game and its players.'

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    The orderly smiles and makes a note on his datapad. "OK, I'll see what I can do."

    Ens. Mahmoud comes in moments later. "So you're awake - and uglier than ever! How are you feeling, Book?" He takes a chair.

    Kylah learns that Poneli rotavirus is somewhat rare but highly contagious. It can be fatal to Bolians, for whom there is no vaccine. The Gryphon, which is indeed a civilian ship, was last at Valtin VII. It would have to file a flight plan but its route would not need approval, as such, by the Federation or Starfleet. She can find no connection between what happened on OC3 and the Anubis scandal, which seems to be limited to the latter world. The location of the warehouse was not reported. Hylanean ore has a number of industrial and manufacturing applications but is found on only three worlds; it cannot be synthesized or replicated. The accused murderer was already in custody and tried but failed to escape.

    There is some classified Starfleet comm traffic, but nothing of particular note, and she recognizes none of the names mentioned except in the most general way.

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    "Horny," Graham answers. "Why not come gimme a smooch?" he adds, making kissy noises.

    He grunts. "On second, thought, no." Graham shakes his head wearily. "Kind of crappy, but I'll live--or Doc Villa's a really good liar." He sighs. "I'd almost forgotten how much those fucking disruptors sting."

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    Mahmoud nods sympathetically. "Never been hit by one myself, but that's I hear. How long until you're back on your feet?"

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    After Kanel's truculent remark, Nia lifts her chin and takes a step closer. "Why should you tell me?" she repeats. "Because I'm asking you to. The Captain is taking my advice on what to do with you--all of you--and so your fate is very much in my hands." The white lie behind her, she lowers her voice. "Now, once more. Tell me what you told Cmdr. Vargas. Or are you afraid to repeat your story? Have you forgotten which lies you told?"

    "I haven't lied," Kanel says irritably. "I told him that we were trying to capture the Codex, which is priceless to the Aelyrr."

    This makes Nia snort in derision. "This is why our First Officer thinks you're more cooperative than the others? Giving us information any fool would know after hearing the Naradraen's distress call? I suspect I'm wasting my time with you."

    She purses her lips in thought before speaking again. "Seriously, Kanel. Do you know anything? What was your role on board that scoutship? As mercenaries, were there leaders and followers? Were you privy to any plans, or just hired muscle?"

    "I was a sensor officer and soldier. I wasn't in command. The Captain didn't share his plans with any of us."

    "Mmm. Very convenient. Just following orders, were you?" Nia looks him over, unimpressed. "Even so, you have ears and must have at least a modicum of curiosity. Mercenaries don't act without a price. Do you know who paid it? Who hired you to steal that relic?"

    "There were other Aelyrr who, I heard, wanted the Codex and were willing to pay for it. I don't know who."

    Other Aelyrr. Are things still so brutal on that world? Nia knows there's little point to addressing this with him. "All right, then. What were the original plans for that raid? Once you found the Codex, what were you supposed to do afterward, as far as you know? Take over the Naradraen? Return to the scout ship? Where was your intended destination?"

    "As far as I know, we were supposed to take the Codex and blow up the ship afterwards. Then we were going back to the Aelyrr system."

    Nia nearly loses her cool facade. So these others were willing to pay Klingons to murder an entire ship of their own kind--including a high priestess--all to recapture their holy book? Revolting. She hopes this isn't true.

    Time to change tactics to see where this Klingon's loyalty lies. "You were left behind by your comrade, who beamed back to the scoutship once he had the Codex. Are you aware that he and two others purposely destroyed that ship while they fled in a shuttle, killing everyone else on board--at least a dozen, by our calculation? Tell me: did you know of this scheme? If you hadn't been captured, would you have joined them on the shuttle? Or would you have died with the rest of the disposable colleagues?"

    "Yes, I heard that they blew up the ship. I didn't know they were going to do that, but it doesn't particularly surprise me. If it meant more money for them, or greater power, I have no doubt they would do it. They don't care about me and would have sacrificed me, too, if it had come to that."

    His calm, albeit somewhat self-pitying, demeanor is odd. But he's had quite some time to get used to this notion, which could explain why he's relatively matter-of-fact about this betrayal. Nia changes subjects again. "Out of curiosity, what's your preference: to spend time in a Federation prison cell, or to be transferred to the custody of the Aelyrr, who will undoubtedly execute you?"

    He laughs humorlessly. "What a delightful conundrum. What do you think I should do?"

    Nia shrugs. "I think you should wish for a time machine, to prevent you from making such staggeringly poor life decisions. Other than that, I'd recommend you make yourself as useful to the Federation and Starfleet as possible. It may be odious to you, but Starfleet prisons are spa resorts compared to the sort of torture that might lie ahead at the claws and teeth of such religious zealots as the Aelyrr."

    She lets him think on that for a while, then tilts her head. "I wonder. What is your status with the Empire? Are you wanted for any crimes there? What's their likely response to knowledge of your capture?"

    "Me? I'm a nobody. The Empire doesn't give a damn about any of us."

    "That makes it nearly unanimous, then." Nia smiles icily. "Since you're not telling us much about this particular raid that we didn't already know, I'm not convinced I have cause to recommend a lighter sentence." She pauses deliberately, narrowing her eyes. "...Unless, before I head off to talk to your surviving colleagues, you have other information of value. Crimes we don't yet know about. What was your group up to before this? What was your last... 'assignment,' so to speak? If you can come up with an answer to any unsolved crimes, it could make things much easier for you."

    He pauses, thinking. "We were in the Aelyrr system for nearly a year. Their government had nearly collapsed and the civil war divided their people. The Bavell faction hired us and we did what we were paid for - raids on other factions' strongholds, captures of their leaders, interceptions of enemy ships, guarding Bavell ships and supplies. I don't know about any crimes - it was war, and we waged it."

    "I see. So this is your first real criminal endeavor," Nia says, sarcasm giving her words a knife's edge. "Imagine that, starting out right at the top, it seems--sabotage, mass murder, and theft of a religious icon. Your lack of success indicates you chose the wrong profession." Before giving him time to react to the insult, she asks quickly: "So this Bavell faction, they're the ones who hired you, then?"

    "That's what we were told, but I couldn't say for sure. It makes sense, though, given their goals."

    Gotcha. Nia rests her hands on her hips again. "How interesting. Two minutes ago you said you had no idea who'd hired you." She lets him think on his blunder while she steps back and gestures toward Kawecki. "I'm done with this one for now."

    Nia walks confidently away, wearing a pleased smile for the purposes of the Klingons whose cells she passes. Now to see the leader. He won't be as forthcoming. But he's the one who ran and vanished before her eyes, and he's the bastard who shot Booker. Nia is very much looking forward to finally addressing him face to face.




    Kanel by EH, Nia by me
    Last edited by SidonianGal; 06 Mar 2016 at 02:30 AM.

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    Finding nothing exceptional in the communications' background worth any further research, Kylah prepares a brief report of her review and sends it over to Soerjosoemarno.

    She decides to reward herself for completing the task by hurriedly responding to the personal messages she received earlier. First, to Mr. Graham:
    I will visit you as soon as I have a break. Do you wish anything to be brought to you? A book or some music? I can retrieve something from the library, or bring you one of my recordings. I remember how unpleasant it was to remain in the Sickbay by oneself. You seem even less likely to enjoy a period of enforced resting. Please let me know if there is anything I can do. Thank you and be well -- KYLAH
    Once that is sent off, she turns her attention to Velir:
    I would like very much to see you in person, although I cannot recall that you have anything to thank me for. Maybe when we are off-duty tonight, we could dine together in the Mess? It is better than sending each other food. As for my communicator, yes, I do hope to go to Engineering to determine what happened, and ideally have it repaired. I have a new one, but I would prefer to keep the original one given to me, if possible. I know it is sentimental, but it has always seemed sad to me, to throw things out that are broken. Not without trying to fix them. When I was little I had a closet of worn dolls that I hid from my servants, so they would not be replaced. I will probably regret telling you that, you will mock me. You may do so at dinner, if we do meet then. -- KYLAH
    She smiles and sends off the message--but thirty seconds later, when rereading the text of her note, she realizes that 'sentimental' is the most flattering thing he could call her. Why, why did she refer to something 'broken'? Perhaps he will think she is rebuking him, as if she were making a pointed reference to his insult of her on that horrible day in Sickbay.

    Oh, how stupid, stupid of me! Why did I write all that? Biting her thumbnail, Kylah contemplates whether she should send a quick note to explain that she did not mean anything by the remark. But that might only make things worse, if he did not notice; she would only be calling attention to a very dark moment between them.

    Cursing her indiscretion, Kylah goes back to monitoring the traffic, wishing there were something to distract her from this new anxiety.
    Last edited by choie; 06 Mar 2016 at 01:03 PM.

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    Collins and then Rangin get similar texts: Mr. Graham has regained consciousness and is receiving visitors, if you would like to see him. I understand you may be a friend of his. VILLA.

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    Collins smiles when she reads Dr. Villa's note. She looks around the bridge. It's very quiet compared to the last couple of days. She takes a chance. "Captain?" she asks politely, "may I go see Ensign Graham? Doctor Villa says he awake and may have visitors. Or should I just wait until my watch is over?"

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    The Captain smiles. "Go ahead and go now. I'll see that your post is covered."

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    While skimming through the report and also seeing what progress, if any, has been noted by Dr Brold on his prototype, Rangin receives the two messages.

    Reading the first, he's not sure where Kylah is going with the anecdote, maybe he's a little tired, maybe she still is and hopefully, he may get more of an explanation tonight to help him understand what she means. Perhaps just better to skip over it and leave it for dinner. There have been several mis-communications between them and it may be easier to ask than play message ping-pong.

    "Kylah, dinner in the mess would be fine. 7:30pm? Hope we can talk some more. Velir."

    Than he reads the message from Dr Villa and wonders if this is some kind of a prank. Perhaps Graham deciding to utter a few threats and dire warnings from his sick bed if Rangin puts a foot wrong. He debates going to see him there and then, but when Collins requests it, he decides to leave it for the while, give it an hour or so and then go and find out what kind of mistake it is.
    In the land of the blind, the one-arm man is king.

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    "Thank you!" Collins exclaims and practically flies to the turbo lift. "Sickbay!" she tells it and impatiently waits for her destination.

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    "You're young yet," Graham replies to Mahmoud. "Someday you'll be able to regale the ladies with how you overcame something serious than a mean hangnail you picked up in the line of duty." He shakes his head. "Not sure how long--I'm guessing there's a lot of--ugh, tissue and muscle to rebuild in the leg." He grimaces. "One time when I was going through physical therapy on Starbase 9--damned it the chief therapist wasn't supernova hot. But her good looks still weren't nearly enough to make it worth the pain. Not a lot of other options but to suck it up, though."

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    Mahmoud says, "Got you. I don't think we have anyone that gorgeous on the Medical staff. Other than Dr. Noel, I should say - sure makes talking to the shrink a more pleasant experience."

    Ens. Carlos de la Paz arrives on the Bridge and sits down in Collins's place at the Security console. The Yorktown continues towards its rendezvous. Rangin sees that the Science and Engineering logs do not reflect anything other than routine work being done on the Brold prototype since the Aelyrr distress call was first received.

    Collins soon makes her way to Sickbay and is shown into Graham's room by an orderly. Ens. Faisal Mahmoud is there talking to Graham. The Libyan gets a serious look and stands as she enters.

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    Collins takes note of Mahmoud's posture, smiles, and says "Relax, Ensign. Sit back down. I'll come back when you two are done talking." She starts to go back out to the waiting area, then turns and says to Graham, "I'm glad you're on the mend, Booker." She leaves his room.

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    Graham's confused by Mahmoud's reaction and Collins' abrupt departure. "Whoa there--I'm pretty darn sure it was a Klingon who shot me, not Collins," he says to Faisal.

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    Mahmoud is puzzled, too. "She's a superior officer. I was just showing respect. Want me to ask her back in?"

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    Rangin looks over the engineering notes on the prototype and finds himself nodding along as he reads them. Given the setup it's still going to be a few days before it's ready for its first proper test, though Rangin is curious to find out how the initial test went. He is less curious about who is probably bearing the brunt of Dr Brold's temper, but given he was assigned to it, he does feel slightly guilty that it's not him.

    He sends a message to Lt. Cmdr. Roble asking me if he is further required to assist with the Prototype hoping the answer is yes. While being on the Bridge is a fine thing, it still doesn't beat the chance to work with something new.
    In the land of the blind, the one-arm man is king.

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    Graham shrugs. "Well, go figure--sure, yeah, ask her back in. And, by the way--thanks for stopping by. You're my first vis--"

    He glances at Nia's flower. "Ah, my first visitor since I've been conscious, anyway."

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    Science Officer Roble replies, Yes, definitely. I'm counting on you. I expect we'll proceed with a full field test after the Watney rendezvous.

    Mahmoud invites Collins back in.

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    Collins smiles at Mahmoud and reenters Graham's room. "So, Ensign," she addresses Graham, "You went and had all the fun without me, huh?"

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    Graham grunts, but smiles slightly. "What's the old saying? 'Do as a I say, not as a I do?' I wanted to provide an example of 'what to avoid' to all you young-up-and comers."

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    Collins smiles. "So, let me know when you're ready for that basketball rematch, Booker." She lifts her arm as if she's going to slap Graham right in the wound, but halts a few inches above his leg. "Seriously, though. I'm very glad you're still with the team." She turns to look at Graham's friend. "How about you, Ensign? Do you play?"

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    "He mostly plays with himself," Graham interjects, chuckling.

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    "Care to lose the other leg?" Mahmoud growls good-naturedly. He responds to Collins, "No, ma'am. Soccer and water polo are more my sports."

    Lt. Cecilia Bennett enters the room. "I should have known this would be a popular place right about now," she says, smiling. She walks over and kisses Graham on the cheek. "How are you, Booker?"

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    Rangin looks at the note back from Roble and feels a certain sense of pride over its content. He checks the upcoming shifts seeing when he will be back to the Cargo Bay and fixing up the sensor instead of keeping an eye out for any possible sightings of Klingons.

    While being on the Bridge is prestegious and even having been sat in the Big Chair he still needs some time to mull over what happened and how he reacted. Thinking back over it, he doesn't think he did anything wrong, but there is no real way for him to tell what the results of that training and experience was.

    He lets out a silent groan as Rangin realises how obvious the answer is. Of course someone was watching what he was doing and evaluating his performance, he was there the whole time...Lt. Cmdr. Roble. Shaking his head at having missed something so plain, Rangin puts the thoughts to one side knowing there is an answer waiting and gets back to looking at the console.
    In the land of the blind, the one-arm man is king.

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    When Bennett kisses Graham's cheek, Collins' eyes widen a bit, one eyebrow rises, the side of her smile curls a little more, and she tilts her head just a little while trying to fix Graham's gaze, all as if to say You DOG, you!

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    Kylah finishes a task and stands up to give the datapad with her results to Soerjosoemarno. As she walks she feels a rolling sense of vertigo, which--coupled with her still-rubbery legs--requires her to clutch the edge of a nearby chair. She looks at Soerjosoemarno's back and tries to get her bearings before he turns around and notices.

    Somehow, focusing on him makes it worse. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, then shakily places the datapad on the nearest desk to her superior officer.

    "Excuse me, sir," she says weakly. "Here are the results of the latest scans. I am sorry, I need to ask Lt. Thalen if I may be relieved early." Another inhale provides needed oxygen to her dizzy head and she turns around to lean against the counter. Then she lifts her new communicator.

    "Kylah to Lt. Thalen. Sir, I am extremely sorry, but I am feeling exhausted and think I need more rest. I have completed a variety of scans of the local traffic and gave the reports to Lt. Soerjosoemarno. But the data on screen seems to swim in front of me, and it is hard to focus. May I please... May I please be relieved from my watch?"

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    Graham's a bit surprised by the kiss from Bennett, and can't help but notice Collins' reaction. He starts to blush slightly. Before Bennett pulls away, he touches her arm gently.

    "Hold on...it's a miracle! I can see!" he says melodramatically. "Er...wait, oh, yeah the problem was my leg," he adds, smiling. He lowers his arm. "But ah, seriously, I'm already feeling better than when I came to. "It was really nice of you..." he forces himself to tear his eyes away from Bennett and glance at Mahmoud and Collins. "ah, of all you to drop by..." He pauses a moment. "This might be a new record for visitors at once after I've been shot. Or stabbed."

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