IKC FHew 7C6110
Bug Hunt – With Vinegar or Honey
by HoD Ro' Matlh & Soghla' HIchop Matlh & Soghla' Terri (Tell) Hope & Soghla' Marie St. Helene & Soghla' Jared & Beq Marcus Quexana
Post Details
By the time Marcus and Marie were both feeling up to moving any great distance, the Fhew had gone to Warp. Germite showed them the way to the bridge. Marcus could not get over the way the place smelled, even compared to some of the freighters he had been on previously.
The Bridge was a hive of activity. Jared was dashing between the Navigation panel at the front and the Science terminal at the back trying to keep the flight path tracking for 'Iw'a'na' on Helm and trying to plot a tracking solution that a torpedo might use for HoS on Tactics. Opposite him at the back Tell was furiously trying to coax extra power out of the engines. The ionised atmosphere they had been traveling in had polarised some of the Plasma relays and were causing a restricted flow. Of course they couldn't afford the time to stop and clear them, so she was doing what she could and trying to dissipate the heat at the same time.
Just behind the Captain's chair 'Iw'a'na' and HoS were fully focused on their respective tasks. In the centre of the Bridge Ro' stood glowering at the screen which appeared empty. He glanced around as the door at the rear opened to admit the human trio.
"Marie, take navigation off Jared so he can concentrate on getting us a shot off. Germite, man sensors. You are looking for a ion plasma explosion."
Jared sighed, "Ionic plasmoid expulsion. Just watch that screen for the faintest of purple flickers and feed the telemetry through to navigation."
Marie ignored the comment. She still felt groggy but she obeyed without question. The trace was faint. She wondered how she was meant to follow it. She punched a few buttons but the effort was much more miss than hit.
Suddenly something clicked into place in her brain. She could see a pattern in the trace; could plot in advance where the ship was heading. She yelled out a set of co-ordinates.
Ro's mailed finger stabbed in Marcus' direction, "You! What good are you?"
"Doesn't look much good for anything," snorted Tell. "Are you sure he's still alive?"
"Wouldn't be the first dead crewman to report for duty," 'Iw'a'na' shot a glance sideways at HoS who missed the reference.
Marcus straightened, forcing an erect carriage and flexing his muscles in a low-key way to loosen them up.
"As good as any Klingon," he said, looking directly at Ro'," but I'm best at fighting and navigation. Are you master of this ship, Sir?"
Ro' nodded, "A good answer. Yes, I am Captain, and you are now taking over Helm, or taking up space. Follow the course Marie gives you."
"Yes, my Captain." the Magna Roman replied crisply. Reaching back, he grasped the hilt of his gladius, his grip deactivating the maglocks built into the scabbard. One set held the scabbard against small metal plates attached to the rear of the baldric, holding the weapon up behind his back. The second set secured the blade in the scabbard. Each was deactivated by a separate pressure switch in the hilt, the former in the lower part toward the pommel, the latter closer to the hand-guard.
The still sheathed weapon swung easily to it's more comfortable position beside his left hip and he immediately released the grip. Enfolding the globular pommel, holding sacred relics of his family within it's metallic depths, in his hand, he bowed and added, "Marcus Astorloa Quexana, at your service"
He then smoothly returned the weapon to it's stowed position behind his back and stepped to the helm station as ordered.
'Iw'a'na' stepped quickly aside, pleased to be relieved of the position.
Marie saw Quexana now standing at Helm. “Salve. Felicis subterlabor,” she said. (Greetings. Lucky escape.)
Marcus looked with surprise at Marie. Though oddly accented, she had spoken in his native tongue. 'Interesting...' he thought, 'And worthy of further inquiry when time allowed.'
"Gratias ago tibi, mi domina ("Thank You, my Lady")" he replied, nodding briefly in her direction, "Ignosces mihi rudeness sed habeo officia praestare debeo. ("Please forgive my rudeness but I have duties I must perform.")"
Marie smile coquetishly and blew him a kiss. “Alius vicus, she said, her voice husky. (Some other time.)
The Helm console was laid out in a fairly straightforward configuration, but the path that was being fed appeared to be erratic and unpredictable, almost as if they were following something, but there was nothing on the sensors to follow. This was a dangerous game at Warp speeds, and they were currently at Warp 5.
"Jared, I need a lock! I want something to claim we made contact. HoS, set the torpedoes to wide yield. We won't do much damage, but we are more likely to hit."
Marcus examined the controls. He was familiar with the basic B'rel specs, having served twice on vessels of the the popular and widely disbursed class. Neither was actually in Klingon service however and he had never picked up the language. Also, Klingon vessels in general and the ubiquitous B'Rel in particular were famous for the latitude allowed in the configuration and fitting of even Imperial Klingon vessels. Still, fortunately, Klingon tech favored basic, functional designs. He could fly it, but for the moment he would have to rely only on the graphical sensor readings as he could not read the data feeds.
"My Captain!" he said, eying the readings, "I understand these controls but you should be aware that I do not read or speak Klingon. It is clear to me, however, that you are pursuing a cloaked vessel. If I may ask, are your torpedoes equipped with a radiation-burst setting for matter-density surveys and possess either independent targeting or active telemetry terminal guidance systems?"
Ro' rose from his seat and crossed back to the Helm panel. There was a perceptible intake of breath as all waited to see how the Captain was going to act, but he simply pressed a few buttons on the helm and suddenly the displays were in Federation standard, although all the measurements were still Klingon gauge.
"You are not the first alien Helmsman we have had," he said simply. "As for our torpedoes, they are not as diverse a tool as those of the Federation. They are designed to kill things."
Jared added, "And at relativistic speeds any standard radiation particle would be unable to spread to significant width before we passed the detonation point. I might be able to include a payload of... erm... unusual radiation, but then I would have to adjust the sensors to detect them and I doubt the targeting sensors are sophisticated enough..."
"Then why don't we just unload a Dusmey of Torpedoes in the area until one of them hits?"
Ro' smilled, "Depth charges? HoS, as always your approach is direct and applicable. We have 40 torpedoes, and we can load them 10 at a go, spread them wide and fire three and a half volleys. Keep five in store because if we find it we can't use the disruptor's at Warp. No use seeing where it is, if we can't hit it. Ready Torpedoes."
HoS, made a few adjustments, "SuH!' [Ready]
"In English," Ro' cautioned, returning to his chair, "as agreed. Fire!"
A cascade of light flew away on the front screen in a wide arc. Each exploded with a faint orange flash.
"Again."
Another stream following a different arc. Still nothing.
"Again!"
This time there was a faint glimmer in the flash of one, as if something was between the ship and the final bang.
"Focus five on that area!"
This time the alien ship lit up. The explosions were not enough to damage the shields but it glowed for a moment as the energy was re-distributed.
"Target that! Fire all torpedoes!"
The last five shot straight and true. Though the ship was able to shift and turn it still took heavy damage.
"Three glancing blows and one direct hit!" HoS reported. "Heavy damage to one nacelle. They are leaking... drive plasma?"
"Reload!"
HoS shook his head, "We are out of torpedoes."
Ro' slammed his fist into the arm of the chair in frustration, "Then we will have to follow it until it drops out of warp. How is the trace signal?"
"Strong, now," Jared supplied. "I am gathering some of the matter and analysing it to see if we can get a hint as to what the thing is. The fuel seems to be organic, but I am still collating."
Ro' sighed heavily, "Tell, raise cloak. Stop red alert. This could take a while, so settle in for hunt roster. 'Iw'a'na' and Cha'a' you have first watch."
OOC: Pausing to allow anyone to say anything (remeber you can include comments or reactions in the above flow, if appropriate). Jared is on LOA for about a week, but he has a key discovery. So we are going to be chasing the thing for about a day. In that time you will have plenty of down time to get to know the new crewman.
Tell had her finger almost on the button when a cry rent the air followed by a thud. Marie was lying on the deck, twitching. Words in some strange tongue were coming from her mouth. They were more gutteral sound that real language but they had a rythm and pattern that was distinct.
"R[zxl*zz. %bxl*g* r@hy*l. W&ht[lg[hy Rl@y&hz @hr X*wph&f&yn @wx[c* &h x@ly*x v&lfr. W@jx@[h @hr X@wx[w@f &tt[w*l q&xp r*@r. L*g@[h[hy wl*vg@h [hs%l*r. Zp[j r@g@y*r. $g j%lz%*r qn p&zx[f* c*lg[h. L*x%lh[hy x& P[c* t&l r@x@ @zz[g[f@x[&h."
Tell raced to Marie's side and held her in her arms, trying to steady her as her body shook with another spasm. "if this is your way of trying to get my attention then its damn well working Marie." she told her "Now come on calm down." Tell's throat was tight with emotion and tried hard not to let it show. She had already lost her best friend Marla and she wasn't prepared to loose another.
Ro' glanced at the fallen Quartermaster, "Get her back to the infirmary."
Tell eased the stricken Marie to her feet and slung the quartermasters arm around her neck. She was about to leave the bridge with her but stopped suddenly.
"Wait!" Jared called and held a device up to her. "Her cortex is stimulated. She is having a telepathic episode. She is full of Borg Nanites looking for a hive mind to connect with, they may well have picked one up. I'll record it and add it to my analysis."
"Borg nanites?" Marcus asked, startled.
Ro sneered, "Ship's crawling with them. Someone brief the human."
He got out of his chair and took a look at Markus properly, "...and get him something to wear."
OOC: So we will pause there. Posts which can follow while we are waiting:
1) HIchop, or Germite, turning 'off' the nanites in Marie.
2) Meeting with the new guy in the Mess and explaining who people are and how things work.
3) We haven't had much interpersonal stuff for ages. Time For Tell to get a new haircut?
OOC: And who's going to cut it this time? She'll just have to do it herself. Come on down to the mess hall and we'll share a bottle of something. I'll even put a candle on the table to welcome you. :)
by HoD Ro' Matlh & Soghla' HIchop Matlh & Soghla' Terri (Tell) Hope & Soghla' Marie St. Helene & Soghla' Jared & Beq Marcus Quexana
Post Details
| Title | With Vinegar or Honey | |
| Mission | Bug Hunt | |
| Author(s) | HoD Ro' Matlh & Soghla' HIchop Matlh & Soghla' Terri (Tell) Hope & Soghla' Marie St. Helene & Soghla' Jared & Beq Marcus Quexana | |
| Posted | Tue Apr 30, 2013 @ 12:21pm | |
| Location | Bridge | |
| Timeline | 30 minutes out from Iapetus |
The Bridge was a hive of activity. Jared was dashing between the Navigation panel at the front and the Science terminal at the back trying to keep the flight path tracking for 'Iw'a'na' on Helm and trying to plot a tracking solution that a torpedo might use for HoS on Tactics. Opposite him at the back Tell was furiously trying to coax extra power out of the engines. The ionised atmosphere they had been traveling in had polarised some of the Plasma relays and were causing a restricted flow. Of course they couldn't afford the time to stop and clear them, so she was doing what she could and trying to dissipate the heat at the same time.
Just behind the Captain's chair 'Iw'a'na' and HoS were fully focused on their respective tasks. In the centre of the Bridge Ro' stood glowering at the screen which appeared empty. He glanced around as the door at the rear opened to admit the human trio.
"Marie, take navigation off Jared so he can concentrate on getting us a shot off. Germite, man sensors. You are looking for a ion plasma explosion."
Jared sighed, "Ionic plasmoid expulsion. Just watch that screen for the faintest of purple flickers and feed the telemetry through to navigation."
Marie ignored the comment. She still felt groggy but she obeyed without question. The trace was faint. She wondered how she was meant to follow it. She punched a few buttons but the effort was much more miss than hit.
Suddenly something clicked into place in her brain. She could see a pattern in the trace; could plot in advance where the ship was heading. She yelled out a set of co-ordinates.
Ro's mailed finger stabbed in Marcus' direction, "You! What good are you?"
"Doesn't look much good for anything," snorted Tell. "Are you sure he's still alive?"
"Wouldn't be the first dead crewman to report for duty," 'Iw'a'na' shot a glance sideways at HoS who missed the reference.
Marcus straightened, forcing an erect carriage and flexing his muscles in a low-key way to loosen them up.
"As good as any Klingon," he said, looking directly at Ro'," but I'm best at fighting and navigation. Are you master of this ship, Sir?"
Ro' nodded, "A good answer. Yes, I am Captain, and you are now taking over Helm, or taking up space. Follow the course Marie gives you."
"Yes, my Captain." the Magna Roman replied crisply. Reaching back, he grasped the hilt of his gladius, his grip deactivating the maglocks built into the scabbard. One set held the scabbard against small metal plates attached to the rear of the baldric, holding the weapon up behind his back. The second set secured the blade in the scabbard. Each was deactivated by a separate pressure switch in the hilt, the former in the lower part toward the pommel, the latter closer to the hand-guard.
The still sheathed weapon swung easily to it's more comfortable position beside his left hip and he immediately released the grip. Enfolding the globular pommel, holding sacred relics of his family within it's metallic depths, in his hand, he bowed and added, "Marcus Astorloa Quexana, at your service"
He then smoothly returned the weapon to it's stowed position behind his back and stepped to the helm station as ordered.
'Iw'a'na' stepped quickly aside, pleased to be relieved of the position.
Marie saw Quexana now standing at Helm. “Salve. Felicis subterlabor,” she said. (Greetings. Lucky escape.)
Marcus looked with surprise at Marie. Though oddly accented, she had spoken in his native tongue. 'Interesting...' he thought, 'And worthy of further inquiry when time allowed.'
"Gratias ago tibi, mi domina ("Thank You, my Lady")" he replied, nodding briefly in her direction, "Ignosces mihi rudeness sed habeo officia praestare debeo. ("Please forgive my rudeness but I have duties I must perform.")"
Marie smile coquetishly and blew him a kiss. “Alius vicus, she said, her voice husky. (Some other time.)
The Helm console was laid out in a fairly straightforward configuration, but the path that was being fed appeared to be erratic and unpredictable, almost as if they were following something, but there was nothing on the sensors to follow. This was a dangerous game at Warp speeds, and they were currently at Warp 5.
"Jared, I need a lock! I want something to claim we made contact. HoS, set the torpedoes to wide yield. We won't do much damage, but we are more likely to hit."
Marcus examined the controls. He was familiar with the basic B'rel specs, having served twice on vessels of the the popular and widely disbursed class. Neither was actually in Klingon service however and he had never picked up the language. Also, Klingon vessels in general and the ubiquitous B'Rel in particular were famous for the latitude allowed in the configuration and fitting of even Imperial Klingon vessels. Still, fortunately, Klingon tech favored basic, functional designs. He could fly it, but for the moment he would have to rely only on the graphical sensor readings as he could not read the data feeds.
"My Captain!" he said, eying the readings, "I understand these controls but you should be aware that I do not read or speak Klingon. It is clear to me, however, that you are pursuing a cloaked vessel. If I may ask, are your torpedoes equipped with a radiation-burst setting for matter-density surveys and possess either independent targeting or active telemetry terminal guidance systems?"
Ro' rose from his seat and crossed back to the Helm panel. There was a perceptible intake of breath as all waited to see how the Captain was going to act, but he simply pressed a few buttons on the helm and suddenly the displays were in Federation standard, although all the measurements were still Klingon gauge.
"You are not the first alien Helmsman we have had," he said simply. "As for our torpedoes, they are not as diverse a tool as those of the Federation. They are designed to kill things."
Jared added, "And at relativistic speeds any standard radiation particle would be unable to spread to significant width before we passed the detonation point. I might be able to include a payload of... erm... unusual radiation, but then I would have to adjust the sensors to detect them and I doubt the targeting sensors are sophisticated enough..."
"Then why don't we just unload a Dusmey of Torpedoes in the area until one of them hits?"
Ro' smilled, "Depth charges? HoS, as always your approach is direct and applicable. We have 40 torpedoes, and we can load them 10 at a go, spread them wide and fire three and a half volleys. Keep five in store because if we find it we can't use the disruptor's at Warp. No use seeing where it is, if we can't hit it. Ready Torpedoes."
HoS, made a few adjustments, "SuH!' [Ready]
"In English," Ro' cautioned, returning to his chair, "as agreed. Fire!"
A cascade of light flew away on the front screen in a wide arc. Each exploded with a faint orange flash.
"Again."
Another stream following a different arc. Still nothing.
"Again!"
This time there was a faint glimmer in the flash of one, as if something was between the ship and the final bang.
"Focus five on that area!"
This time the alien ship lit up. The explosions were not enough to damage the shields but it glowed for a moment as the energy was re-distributed.
"Target that! Fire all torpedoes!"
The last five shot straight and true. Though the ship was able to shift and turn it still took heavy damage.
"Three glancing blows and one direct hit!" HoS reported. "Heavy damage to one nacelle. They are leaking... drive plasma?"
"Reload!"
HoS shook his head, "We are out of torpedoes."
Ro' slammed his fist into the arm of the chair in frustration, "Then we will have to follow it until it drops out of warp. How is the trace signal?"
"Strong, now," Jared supplied. "I am gathering some of the matter and analysing it to see if we can get a hint as to what the thing is. The fuel seems to be organic, but I am still collating."
Ro' sighed heavily, "Tell, raise cloak. Stop red alert. This could take a while, so settle in for hunt roster. 'Iw'a'na' and Cha'a' you have first watch."
OOC: Pausing to allow anyone to say anything (remeber you can include comments or reactions in the above flow, if appropriate). Jared is on LOA for about a week, but he has a key discovery. So we are going to be chasing the thing for about a day. In that time you will have plenty of down time to get to know the new crewman.
Tell had her finger almost on the button when a cry rent the air followed by a thud. Marie was lying on the deck, twitching. Words in some strange tongue were coming from her mouth. They were more gutteral sound that real language but they had a rythm and pattern that was distinct.
"R[zxl*zz. %bxl*g* r@hy*l. W&ht[lg[hy Rl@y&hz @hr X*wph&f&yn @wx[c* &h x@ly*x v&lfr. W@jx@[h @hr X@wx[w@f &tt[w*l q&xp r*@r. L*g@[h[hy wl*vg@h [hs%l*r. Zp[j r@g@y*r. $g j%lz%*r qn p&zx[f* c*lg[h. L*x%lh[hy x& P[c* t&l r@x@ @zz[g[f@x[&h."
Tell raced to Marie's side and held her in her arms, trying to steady her as her body shook with another spasm. "if this is your way of trying to get my attention then its damn well working Marie." she told her "Now come on calm down." Tell's throat was tight with emotion and tried hard not to let it show. She had already lost her best friend Marla and she wasn't prepared to loose another.
Ro' glanced at the fallen Quartermaster, "Get her back to the infirmary."
Tell eased the stricken Marie to her feet and slung the quartermasters arm around her neck. She was about to leave the bridge with her but stopped suddenly.
"Wait!" Jared called and held a device up to her. "Her cortex is stimulated. She is having a telepathic episode. She is full of Borg Nanites looking for a hive mind to connect with, they may well have picked one up. I'll record it and add it to my analysis."
"Borg nanites?" Marcus asked, startled.
Ro sneered, "Ship's crawling with them. Someone brief the human."
He got out of his chair and took a look at Markus properly, "...and get him something to wear."
OOC: So we will pause there. Posts which can follow while we are waiting:
1) HIchop, or Germite, turning 'off' the nanites in Marie.
2) Meeting with the new guy in the Mess and explaining who people are and how things work.
3) We haven't had much interpersonal stuff for ages. Time For Tell to get a new haircut?
OOC: And who's going to cut it this time? She'll just have to do it herself. Come on down to the mess hall and we'll share a bottle of something. I'll even put a candle on the table to welcome you. :)