Star Trek: Season 10

Started by Jen, June 26, 2009, 08:48:44 AM

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Shelby D

JP by JEN and CRYSTAL   :laugh:

Upon entering the lift Shelby felt the cold chill of humiliation, embarrassment and annoyance at herself. How could she have been so stupid? If Joe was nothing else, to her personally, he had been a good friend for the short time they had been together. Professionally he was a bear but that wasn't what this was about. She had circumvented that friendship and clearly hurt him. He had gone to all that trouble to find her Mother...part of her said; why did he do that?
The other part of her shut down the mill, which turned out some pretty crazy thoughts and she focused on the problem at hand. She felt horrid. As the lift moved she considered what she could do. She didn't know him well enough to actually figure out how to approach him on this.  Then it hit her, Susan Caine, she knew D'Callan the best. Although it was probably a risk, she might be able to shine some light on how to approach the man. Well, she did need to go to Sickbay to make sure the Nalah's medical charts were sent to the station, so she figured there was no better time than the present.
Walking into medical, she sought out the tall blond. It didn't take long, she found the woman just inside the doors to sickbay. "Nurse Caine? Ensign Shelby Daelen, security. Do you have a moment or two of time?"

Susan's eyes narrowed slightly in thought as she remembered the talk she had with her brother, a few nights before, regarding the half Romulan Ensign and his interest in her. The Nurse quickly recovered, and donned smile, "Of course. I didn't do anything illegal did I?" She chuckled, "I swear, I wasn't in the Afterburner when it erupted."
Laughing a little, Daelen shook her head. "No not at all. I wanted to check in with someone here about the Romulan medical files. They will need to be transferred to the station once the ceremony is over." Her manner was friendly.  

Setting her PADD down, the nurse stepped around her terminal. "Doctor Drett usually handles those sorts of things and she hasn't arrived yet. But I'm sure she's already arranged for that. If you want to wait, she should be in shortly..."

"That is fine...." Shelby looked at the woman for a moment then she cleared her throat. "Can I ask you for some advice."

"Sure," she said as she gestured to a biobed. "I'm assuming it's medical advice...Have a seat." Said Susan as she moved to collect a tricorder from her terminal.  
Putting her hands up slightly the security officer shook her head. "Oh, no, I'm sorry, it isn't that sort of advice...It's about Lieutenant Commander D'Callan."

Susan set her tricorder down slowly and turned to face the Ensign. Just as she did, Doctor Drett stepped in the entry way to let her know she would be in the Counselor's office. When the doctor left, the smile Susan wore for Ryla settled on the dark-haired woman standing quietly before her. Susan's bright expression slipped slightly before returning an instant later. "What about?" She asked smoothly, even though she was fairly certain it would be related to the conversation she had with Joe a few nights before.
"I seem to be having a bit of a communication problem with him at the moment." Seeming to consider her words, she paused, "I thought you might know how I might be able to talk to him without..." frowning slightly she tried to think how best to say what she wanted. "I had a lapse in judgement and he is a bit...frustrated with me..."  Shifting the gray eyes up to the woman she sighed and went quiet.

Susan chuckled, "I know how that is. Little Joe has a bit of a temper. Well, don't let it worry you. It'll blow over in a few usually does...sometimes..." She didn't know why, but she felt the need to exaggerate a little on the time frame.
A slight creased formed between the woman's brows. "What if you didn't have weeks to sort this out?" Her words intoned a serious interest.

"Oh, well... in that case you just hope he forgets it in a year. His memory's not as good as it use to be." Said the Susan. She could see the ensign was buying it hook line and sinker; part of her felt bad for teasing, but the other part was having fun. Joe was her big brother and she was a bit protective of him. Susan wasn't about to let some cute young thing break his heart. No...she had some testing to do before she could give her stamp of approval.

Hearing this Shelby lifted her brows, "I see...look...I need to let him know I appreciated something he's important to me. Please."

Susan gave her a concerned look. "Did he frighten you? His fits of rage can be pretty scary sometimes. If you'd like, I can tell him for you... he's not mad at me. That I know of."
Shaking her head, " wasn't like that...I'm sorry....maybe I just need to be up front with him..." she seemed to speak the words to herself more than to Susan. "If he is still angry, at least I tried."

Susan smiled slyly. "Security officers are so courageous... well, good luck with that. Oh. One bit of advice. If his right eye lid starts to twitch... leave immediately."
Lifting a brow at this suggestion Shelby placed her hands behind her back. "Susan, you seem to have taken my inquiries quite there something wrong?"

The head nurse smiled faintly, "Not at all. I'm just passing on the advice you came here for, but it seems you have it all worked out. Let me know how it goes."
She wasn't sure what just happened but Shelby smiled politely. "I will, thank you......" she moved to leave then she stopped. "I think..." Then she proceeded to leave the medical bay.


Herm was trying to shake off his morning drowsiness as he walked to his workstation. In his left hand he carried a large steaming mug of replicated coffee, an Earth beverage he had come to appreciate on days like this, in his right, the artifact he had acquired from Sutpak Choro the night before.

Herm liked to take "the long way" to his office, preferring the exercise to the turbo lift. Besides, it gave him time to reflect on last night....

Herm was shocked at the difference a hypospray made in his Romulan friend. Years of struggling with arthritis and other ailments had, apparently, completely melted away within a few moments of leaving the doctor. Herm was leading his friend to the mess hall for dinner, but he had other plans.

"I feel GREAT, my boy! That doctor of yours is not only beautiful, but talented. Let's have dinner in your holodeck again. I know a great little spot that's great for dancing!"

Sutpak's grumpy attitude had completely melted away, replaced with something much more annoying.

"Sutpak, please, it's late. I've had a long day. Can we just get dinner and talk about your relic?"

"My boy, you really need to obsess less. It's really just a rock. Here, you can have it."

Sutpak removed the pouch from his shoulder and held it out to the Ensign. As Herm reached for it, he pulled it back.

"On one condition!"

Sighing, Herm stepped past his friend and made the left turn down the corridor toward the holodeck. 10 minutes later they were in a crowded, noisy, Romulan version of a night club.

Herm was shaken from his memory when he sleepily bumped into the wall. A big drop of his coffee slopped onto the floor. Herm absently stepped over it as the ship's cleaning systems made it disappear. A few more steps and he was in his workstation. He sat his coffee down with a thunk and his newly acquired relic down with a clunk. Yawning loudly, he flopped into his chair, allowing his bald head to drop forward onto the table.


"Now this is living!" shouted Sutpak over the din. "I haven't been in this place in more than 100 years!"

Herm resisted the urge to put his hands over his ears. Obviously Romulans and Risians had very different ideas of what constituted "music". Stupak pushed a holographic drink into his hand and disappeared into the crowd.


Anxious to get to work on the Romulan artifact, Herm set into his daily routine, checking messages from the fleet, answering messages from his fellow science officers, reviewing reports coming in from the station. His eyes blurred and he rubbed absently at them, finding it impossible to stay focused.


Six hours later, Sutpak was still dancing with the holographic, scantily clad, waitresses from the lunch cafe they had visited before. He had ordered the computer to include them in the night-club program. Herm had received several messages from the computer warning him to shut down the program so the computer could cycle through it's maintainence sub-routines during Gamma shift. Eventually the program would just shut down, but Herm was hoping he could get Sutpak out of here and be in bed before that happened. But, alas, as soon as the thought crossed his mind, the music stopped, the people faded, and the plain black and yellow grids appeared on the walls.

Laughing loudly, Sutpak continued to dance as he came toward Herm and the exit.


Herm snapped his head up from his desk, startled by something that reminded him of a Risian water pig. Glancing around, he realized, with a blush, that it was himself, snoring. Shaking his head to clear the sleepy fog, he pushed aside everything on his desk so he may start examining the relic.


Herm walked Sutpak back to his quarters. Alpha shift began in two hours and he really needed some sleep.

"Thank you, my boy, that was a great time. Here." Sutpak pulled the pouch off his shoulder and handed it to the Ensign as if he were handing him a dirty shirt.

"Well, will you be around to help me move tomorrow?"

"Move?" asked Herm, suddenly feeling like he was walking in on the middle of a conversation.

"Why, yes, of course. I'll be living on the station. Surely I mentioned it?"

"No. No you didn't." Stammered Herm.

"Ah, well, now you know. Good night, Ensign." And with that he stepped into his quarters and the doors closed with a chirp. Herm stood there for a moment wondering if someone was holo-recording this to give the crew a good laugh later.


Shaken from his revelry one final time, Herm set to work on the relic.

"This better be worth it." Herm thought to himself as he set work.
When we remember we are all mad, the mysteries disappear and life stands explained. - Mark Twain


As he left the corridor and entered the main commercial area of the station, Tolok paused to look around him. It was early in the station's day but already there was bustling activity in evidence around him. Most of it was romulan but there was a fair smattering of other Alpha and Beta Quadrant races around the area as well. Perhaps there were fewer Federation member species represented here than one would expect to see in a similar Starfleet facility but at the macro level it looked much like any other deep space station he'd visited.

In the last few years, of course, he'd had no reason to leave Vulcan but as a young lieutenant he'd put in five years service aboard Starbase 173 and the memories from that time were still fresh.

Crossing the commercial area, the Vulcan passed into a lesser used corridoor, heading towards the temporary offices of the resident Starfleet Quartermaster. Still a fledgling outfit on this side of the quadrant, Starfleet were nevertheless attempting to put in place enough of an infrastructure to support the long term aims of the Seventh Fleet's presence in romulan space. Security was still a concern and in the time available a full scale deployment had been out of the question.

Tolok was about to test the effectiveness of these initial efforts.

As the door glided closed behind him, Tolok strode to the desk to the left of the entryway. Looking somewhat out of place, a large glass fish tank occupied the centre of the opposite wall, filled with salt water species from at least three planets.

"Pretty, isn't it Sir" the chief behind the desk stated ironically as he looked up at the Commander, nodding over Tolok's shoulder to the tank.

"Indeed", the Vulcan conceded, extending the PADD in his hand. "Lieutenant Commander Tolok, USS Arabella" he introduced himself. The chief nodded in acknowledgment, taking the offered device and starting to read. After only a brief moment he looked up.

"Building a new runabout out here?" The chief couldn't quite keep the surprise from his voice. "I'm not sure we've got our act together enough to tackle that yet, Sir but if you leave this with me and give me a day or so, I can do the rounds of our supply hangers and the other ships around here and see what we can come up with."

"That will be acceptable, Chief. Thank you." Transaction completed, the chief turned to his terminal while Tolok turned on his heel and walked back through the door, completely ignoring the fish. Much to his own surprise, the Lieutenant Commander has an appointment to keep.

I know it's unnusual here but I don't have a podcast of my own.

Shelby D

JP by Mike and Crystal

As Galdar rounded the corner of the deck 5 corridor he caught sight of Shelby Daelen standing outside the sickbay doors.

"Ensign Daelen", he said formally. The twinkle in his eye, not quite suppressed, revealed the humour behind the question. "Guarding another door are we?"

The slight confusion Shelby was experiencing over her conversation with Susan and how that had gone faded as the ensign shifted her eyes to Galdar. She gave a short smile "No, not quite..."

"Ah, OK. You can't blame a Ferengi for jumping to the wrong conclusion though. You are, after all...a guard." the lieutenant made a play of jumping backwards as if expecting a blow from the ensign but Shelby didn't seem to be playing today.

Instead, she began to walk. The Ferengi moved in step beside her. "Something wrong? I'm supposed to be helping calibrate the port thrusters since there's not much flying to do, but I have some time if you need an ear." He ventured a grin. "In the ear department you won't find better on the ship! None of your graceful points here!" It was a variation on one of his stock lines but it normally managed to raise a laugh in any company.

Pausing at the lift Daelen pivoted to face Galdar, she seemed to study his ears then she said with a smirk, "You might be right..why not.." as the doors opened and she stepped in.

Galdar followed her into the car, turning to face the doors as protocol dictated. For the life of him, the Ferengi had never figured this 'hewmon' obsession with staring at doors.

Ordering the lift to Deck 3, Shelby kept her peace until they were moving along before she said more. "I've just been having doubts about some things."

Glancing upwards, Galdar saw the distraction behind her eyes and started to realise the gravity of whatever was on the ensign's mind. The crew hadn't been together for a long time but he'd shared a number of holo sessions with Daelen and he'd never seen her quite this distracted.

"Errm, doubts? About the refugees? Our presence in Romulan space..?" his voice tailed off as her blank look told him he was well off track. Empathy wasn't one of his strengths...clearly.

"Tell me?" Perhaps a direct approach was called for.

"Yes, doubts, would be a good word for it." Glancing downwards, Shelby shook her head. "I do not know if I will be staying on the Arabella."

"I see. I assume you have a suitably...profitable reason for such doubts?", Galdar grinned, "After all, this crew's not been together long enough for character issues to surface...has it?"

Daelen lifted her head and she looked straight ahead, seeming to consider his words. "I suppose's a assistant chief postion on another ship..." Then she turned her gaze to meet his.


Joseph paced the corridor looking at the turbo lift doors and becoming increasingly impatient. His bad mood had not wavered, in fact the thoughts of the past events began to niggle him even more. His mnd was on Daelens words and the one thing that kept coming into his mind was humiliation. Still he had a job to do and that came first above anything. Tapping the turbo lift doors he looked around and gave it a gentle kick which made him feel a little bit better.


Joint Post by Feathers and Crystal

Turning to look at Daelen fully now, Galdar cocked his head to one side, staring at the point of her right ear. "Well, that sounds profitable enough to me. I'll say it again, 'this crew's not been together long enough for character issues to surface' and in the context of a promotion off ship, that has to be good. Leaving now will be a much easier prospect than it would be if we'd all fully bedded into being one crew.

"'If it's free, take it and worry about hidden costs later'," he paused meaningfully, "Rule of acquisition number 37."

Shelby didn't seem convinced and she certainly wasn't exhibiting the elation that was normally associated with promotion. Galdar would have bet that even the most emotionless Vulcan could have detected that there was something more going on here.

"Shelby, a promotion is an honour and you won't convince me otherwise", Galdar said, "I've had a couple myself you know..." He tapped the two full pips on his uniform until the half-Romulan nodded. "Transfers can go either way, of course, but I'm betting that when you applied for the post you considered the ship and crew as well as the rank."

The car slowed to a halt, both officers reflexively stepping aside as the doors glided open. "Sir.", nodded Galdar as Lieutenant Commander D'Callan stepped between them and moved to the back of the cabin, quietly stating his destination for the computer.

As the lift resumed its course, the Ferengi turned back to his companion. "So I'm guessing there's something more going on here?"

A stoic gaze had replaced the already troubled expression which had been displayed on Daelen's face. She also now ever so slowly shifted her eyes to Galdar as if to say 'not now please' then returned her gaze forward.

This was, to say the least, the most uncomfortable situation she had been in. Her heart felt like it had dropped. She knew that although she wanted to say something to Joseph she couldn't, which relegated her to just standing there starting into nothing.

"Garriss to Galdar." The chirp of the lieutenant's com badge silenced whatever he'd been about to say which was probably just as well from Daelen's perspective.


"We're about ready to go on this end, just waiting for you."

"Acknowledged, lieutenant. Won't be long now." With a tap, he closed the channel and as the lift slowed once more he turned back to Daelen.

"If you want a chat, I'm on light duties for as long as we're docked but it looks like my time's about up for the moment."

She gave an even nod of acknowledgement but said nothing more.

The doors opened and without saying a word, Joseph D'Callan strode out onto the bridge. Galdar quickly followed him leaving Shelby alone in the car and even more confused about what she should really do than she had been before their conversation had started.

I know it's unnusual here but I don't have a podcast of my own.


Walking through one of the newly constructed residential areas of the station, Lieutenant Commander Tolok stood out from the general population more because of his yellow and black Starfleet uniform than because of his distinctly Vulcan, or at least non-Romulan, features. Yet as he caught the glances of many of the Romulan civilians he passed, he got the feeling that it was his racial heritage rather than his service allegiance that was drawing all of the attention.

The corridor was drab but serviceable, the evidence of its recent construction still clear in the newly sealed seams between panels and the lack of many of the homely flourishes that most species normally employed. These would no doubt arrive in time but for the moment, engineering teams were still very much in evidence. From the work in progress at one junction, it appeared that the communications system within the common areas had not yet been completed.

The Commander slowed his pace as he entered the section of the station he was seeking, starting to pay more attention to the markings on individual doors rather than those provided for station navigation. His habitually impassive expression revealed nothing of his inner thoughts but as he neared his destination, his indecision over the wisdom of his actions increased.

It didn't require the Chief Engineer of a starship to place a quartermaster's requisition. Under other circumstances, Ensign Barton or another junior officer would have received the task he'd just undertaken leaving him free to oversee the ongoing maintenance and running of 'his' ship. Despite it's newly launched status, there were still many things that he could have been undertaking aboard the Arabella.

What had broken this routine and drawn him onto the station was an invitation from a...friend? Was that the right word to be using in these circumstances?

Turning again, he drew closer to his goal, a set of quarters that should be just around the next corner on his right. How he would be received when he arrived remained to be seen.

A hand on his shoulder drew him up short, the pressure applied suggesting that he might like to turn toward its owner. Tolok had seen the legs protruding from the open, floor level, hatchway as he'd passed and had heard the scrabbling of boots on the metal deck plating as their owner had reversed into the corridor. Thus, he wasn't caught completely unaware by the contact even if the impediment to his progress was unexpected.

As requested by the increasing pressure to his shoulder, Tolok turned to face the newcomer. "May I help you?", he enquired in an even tone.

I know it's unnusual here but I don't have a podcast of my own.


By Crystal and Allen

If there is one thing that history had taught archeologists, it's that Romulan artifacts often were never what they appeared to be on the surface. Ships' logs tell horror stories of viruses unleashed, or strange energy outbursts, or worse. Herm was taking great care to work carefully to remove the patina that obscured some of the writing on the surface. He knew that most of the threat from anything biological would have been neutralized by the transporters during rescue, but Romulans were known for their inventiveness in hiding such things.

"Computer, analyze the patina in section 4-2 and vaporize with a setting of .0084", Herm ordered. The sophisticated equipment wasn't as much fun as getting your hands dirty, but it was usually much safer.

The computer chirped in confirmation and activated the miniature phaser to remove the centuries old dirt and mud that had become hard as stone on the plaque.

BANG! Herm was thrown back from his chair. Did the lights just blink? What happened? The tendrils of smoke rising from where his phaser-chisel had been told him that he should have proceeded more carefully. The shimmer around him told him that a containment field had been activated.

Oh, great. Zrem's going to love me for this, he thought. "Computer, deactivate containment field and explain what just happened."

"Unable to comply. Security field may only be deactivated by security personnel."

Great. Just great.


Shelby got the call from D'Callan shortly after she left Galdar and arrived back at her quarters, he advised her that there was an alarm going off in Ensign Herm's office and she was one of only a couple of people who had the codes. Walking out of the lift and to the science workstation Shelby chimed the door.

"Come in!" came a muffled, embarrassed, voice from inside. The door opened to show the ensign sitting with his bald head in his hands next to something smoldering on his desk. A class 2 security field shimmered blue and gold around him.

Standing at the door for a moment, Shelby surveyed the situation, seeing no visible signs of danger she walked in; the door hissing shut behind her. "Ensign, are you ok? Shall I call for the medics?"

"I'm fine," replied Herm, without looking up, "just embarass...." as he spoke he looked up to see his favorite security office had come to help him. He and Shelby had never spoken before, but Herm had had a secret crush on her since arriving on the Arabella. And now here she was. Right here. Looking at him. Gulp.

His eyes now fully hypnotized by her's, he tried to continue. "I was... er... that is... um... I was working on this... pretty... that is on this tablet one of the Romulans... I mean one of the OTHER Romulans that aren't as b... er... I meant one of our passengers gave me." With out breaking eye contact he indicated the undamaged tablet amidst the ruins of his work station. "I was trying to kiss... I uh mean CLEAN it when something happened." ...
When we remember we are all mad, the mysteries disappear and life stands explained. - Mark Twain

Shelby D

JP by Allen and Crystal

Concern and some slight confusion etched onto her expression. Herm seemed a little disoriented. Pulling out her tricorder she didn't read any toxic or dangerous levels of any kind. Closing the unit she moved over to the computer. Keying in her access code she cleared the field and within a moment there was a surge of the field and it vanished. Pivoting Daelen moved over and helped the ensign up onto a nearby chair. While he recouped she used the tricorder to scan the smoking remains of the workstation. "Did anyone tell you what this was?" Her attention was on the tablet.

The only thing that might distract Herm from her beauty was his work. He turned excitedly to the tablet.

"Oh yes! I mean, that is, they didn't have to. An elderly gentleman, one of our passengers, was carrying it. The moment I saw it I new it to be from the S'Task era, possibly even pre-dating Surak!" At this Herm turned to look up at his guest, who had stepped closer to see what he was talking about. And was lost again.

As his eyes met hers he tried to continue. "So... uh... I was able to... er ... and I was trying to undress.. I mean UNCOVER some of the writing... and then.... wow. I mean POW. I'm guessing it was some ancient Orion booby... that is um... maybe some kind of trap the computer didn't see."

Glancing over at the man Shelby frowned curiously. "Are you sure that you don't need to go to the medical bay?" Herm just stared at her dumbly and smiled. "Well we are going to need to contain the tablet clearly it's unstable. What do you have as a suggestion?"

Unable to break his gaze from her eyes, Herm tried to answer. "I should have used the Hawass box," he said, indicating a meter long glass enclosure on the other side of the room, "it... uh... it opens like a breast... I mean CHEST... yeah, and activates a class 7 containment field while using the phaser-chisel. It was just....  oh man... your eyes are so pretty... AHEM! Sorry, I was just careless. I'm sorry, Ensign."

"All right let me help you here." Stepping to the computer she began to type in some commands. Pretty soon a blue field encapsulated just the broken pieces of the table. "I will have a hazmat team come down here and get rid of this. Unless you have another suggestion. In the meantime maybe we should just transport the thing into that box."

"Thank you, sweetie, I mean Shelby, I mean... uh.... ensign. Computer, initiate quarantine protocol 7 on artifact Q42 and teleport to the Hawass box containment level 7." The tablet disappeared from the wreckage that was his desk and reappeared in a shimmering green force field within the glass box.

Embarrassed, but still overwhelmed by her presence, Herm found him self saying: "Let me make this up to you, perhaps we could meet in bed... I mean the Afterburner later and I can buy you. I mean buy a you drink. Er... that is... uh.... maybe I should stop talking."

Shelby had pulled out her tricorder while he was stumbling over his words, concentrating on making sure that the containment was good. She only heard the tail end of his remarks. "Sure you can buy me a drink if you want...later though." She folded up the device and placed it in the holder on her belt.

"Looks like everything has been taken care of here then. I've notified haz-mat they need to come in here and take care of the table. I think you should get out of here and take a break." her businesslike demeanor didn't betray her inner thoughts which consisted of this: she was still worried that he might need to see Ryla. Either that or maybe there was something else wrong with him because he seemed really nervous around her.  

Turning her gray orbs towards the man she gave him a half smile. "Here let me help you...I think sickbay might be a good idea just to make sure all your fingers and toes are where they should be."  

"No, I'm fine, really" he said. "I have other things to do, I should just get back to work." He hung his head and spun around in his chair. Any first impression me might have made was obviously a poor one. "I'll catch up with you later."

As the security officer left with some hesitancy and upon the door shutting he turned to the wall and started talking to himself, punctuating each word by smacking his forehead against the bulkhead. "Stupid... stupid... stupid...."


Making his third walk around the bridge watching officer busy at work Joseph stopped at one of the vacant work stations and entered his command codes. Reading the reports he concentrated on the incident that had just happened. Seeing no alert had been recorded he tapped his fingers over the display requesting a report from Ensign Daelen as soon as she was finished. Turning the panel off he shook his head at the thought of her name. Making his way into the turbo lift he smiled at the woman sitting close to the door, she smiled back and then it was just the metal in front of him. "i think I'll stay away from pretty women for a while" he thought. As the doors opened Joseph walked into his office and sat down. The Arabella had been a lot calmer since arriving at the station. He felt relieved. Thinking about the end of his day a few options drifted into his mind. "A beer with K'tan would be ideal but she might be there, a game of cricket. Ah now that would be ideal."


The doors across the Jeffries tube parted with a click and a whine, allowing Lieutenant Galdar to proceed on his slow and somewhat tortuous journey to the auxiliary control node for the forward port dorsal thruster cluster. Closing behind him as he crawled forward, the door effectively sealed the Ferengi in his own little environmental chamber.

"Shame about the headroom", he muttered as he neared the alcove he was heading for.

He'd remained on the bridge only long enough to configure the Conn panel for the maintenance cycle before heading into the guts of the ship. Strictly speaking, he could have manned an engineering station and run through the test sequence from there but he liked to get his hands dirty occasionally and saw no reason why he shouldn't join the team on this occasion.

"You should complain about headroom", Lester Garriss stated ironically, pulling his head from an open access panel. "Your build is better suited to these places than mine is."

"Granted", Galdar grinned easily as he settled down beside Lester and inserted his head into panel space, "but BETTER suited is not the same as IDEALLY suited."

The two grinned at one another for a moment before returning to the business in hand. Tapping his chest, Garriss opened up channel. "Garriss to Boyd. Fire up the reaction in the forward node. 0.5% to begin with." The muffled acknowledgment was drowned out by the whine of technology spooling up as the thruster matrix was activated.

It took half an hour to work through the configuration exercise and Galdar enjoyed both the work and the company. There were times when acute hearing was useful aboard ship and, to his surprise, this turned out to be one of them. With a little bit of practice, he had started to detect both alignment and reactant flow changes almost as quickly as the engineer's instruments.

As the equipment powered down on completion of the exercise, Galdar sat back and rubbed at the back of his neck. "OK, you've introduced me to the guts of the thruster system, but you haven't explained why you took this...horrible position from which to coordinate the exercise. Isn't crawling round Jeffries tubes what crewmen are for? I thought you were a warp theory specialist or something."

Closing up the access panel, Garriss shook his head ruefully and started to crawl back up the tube to the more accessible parts of the ship. "I'm an engineer, lieutenant. Since when did our comings and goings have to make sense to mere bridge officers!"

I know it's unnusual here but I don't have a podcast of my own.


Joint post by Jen and Just X

Life aboard Quirinus station had surged in activity with the arrival of the Seventh Fleet, the new refugees, and the recent announcement of an Imperial Gala. While no where near her capacity, the station now held over 100,000 guest, residents, and crew of various species and social standing. The settlement efforts on Phaestus III and newly established trade routes through the Quirinus station served to create new jobs and new opportunities for the displaced survivors of the Hobus Incident. The announcement of an Imperial Gala galvanized the hopes of the residents aboard the station. The empire was in tatters and, aside from warlords and senators vying for power, little from the leaders of either Romulan Empire had said anything since the event. The people hoped for answers and subtle hints suggested that those answers would be coming shortly.

Captain Sevryll entered the station's command center with the group of captains from the Seventh fleet and their first officers. The station's second in command was guiding them through the key terminals within the facility and the command center was their last stop on his tour. "Inside the center, we can monitor all facets of station life and operations. We also have complete access and control of the sensor grid from here."

After the tour, Sevryll and Aeric planed to catch up with a few of their old friends from the Academy. Captain Selar, of the Olympic class medical ship the Boris Yegerov had been Sevryll's roommate and Captain Thelora, of the Gabriel Bell had first been Aeric's friend. The two joined the other captains and XOs for a round of Dom Jot with the at Sammy Blues, a small human-run bar and game room. It was good to be in the company of old friends again. It was also good for them to meet with some of the other executive officers in the flesh.

With only a few hours until the start of the gala, many of the senior officers of the fleet had began to return to their ships in order to prepare. The few tailors aboard had quickly developed long lists of customers looking for a new look to impress. the massive central plaza of the promenade had been decorated to serve as a place where those not directly attending the gala could join in the celebrations. Those that had managed to get an invitation would be feasting, dancing, and enjoying the luxuries of the Imperial sector and the large private plaza where the official event would be held. Both locations would be much needed sources of celebration and as reaffirmations of life. There was still much work to be done. Empty senate chambers aboard the station would need to have their seats filled. Surviving noble houses would also need to contribute to the efforts of reconstruction.

The powers of the galaxy had still not fully recovered from the almost decade old final attack of the Borg and the recent losses of the empires had only served as a reminder of how tragic the universe could be. There would be a price to pay in the coming days and most of those that entered the station knew of the long road ahead. The gala wasn't just some expense to woo and entertain the nobles. It was a statement that the culture of Romulus, Remus, and the other lost planets of the empire survived and would still live on through the hearts and actions of the survivors. Simply put, the gala was there to remind the universe that the Romulan people still existed and it would take far more to extinguish their flame.

Word had quickly spread among staff, residents, and new arrivals that an important announcement would happen at the gala. Speculations ran rampant on what the announcement might be, but the location of the gala all but confirmed that it would carry the weight of the Empress' edicts. Some of those rumors spoke of the secret arrival of the empress on the station. Others spoke of the fleets loyal to the station and the empress working off secret orders to secure the safety of the Romulan people of both empires. It was those very rumors that suggested that the Empress had sent all loyalist specific directions on the restoration of the empires and it did seem as if the leaders of the civilian and military sectors of the Imperial State were working off an unseen plan.


The crowd, gathered in what was being called the Imperial Courtyard, generated a low murmur of conversation as Oryn, dressed in the colors and the signet of the Imperial House, walked slowly up the stairs leading to an empty chair. Romulan voices rose slightly at the shock of seeing the empty chair and the sword that rested on the commander's side. Both were ancient artifacts of his people. Artifacts that were assumed lost with their homeworld. He moved with both purpose and military bearing as he raised a hand to silence the group. Hovering cams moved above the crowd at the direction of their various operators and focused their lenses on the commander.

"I bid welcome to those in attendance and those that are viewing this." Oryn started in a strong voice that was discretely amplified by the sound equipment. "Our homeworld is gone, but our people and our culture will live on. We will rise from the ashes stronger and better. We will learn from our past and create an new future together. I am Oryn t'Rllaillieu, son and heir of Shiarkiek, commander of this station that many of you now call home. At the request of Empress Donatra, I take the title of Imperial Praetor for those lands that once made up the Imperial State and as my birthright, I bring our sundered empires back together."

Oryn paused as voices of shock rippled through the gathered. He allowed them a few moments to absorb the information before he raised a hand to silence the crowd once more. "In the coming days, we will be facing our greatest challenges. As a people born in the stars, we will reclaim our heritage. This station, once on the border of two empires now lies in the heart of a reunited one. Fleets loyal to the throne have been given orders to protect our worlds from aggressors that might take advantage in our diminished state. This station is now the seat of our future and the protector of it. To those that wish to rebuild with us, I welcome you. To those that see this as an opportunity to prey upon us, I warn you: We will not allow our worlds to be taken or our spirits to be broken. We will fight with all that we can and until we can no fight no longer. We will also welcome our brother and sisters within the Vulcans, Remans, and Watraii that want to join us in creating a better future."

With that opening, and the attention of the gathered focused on him, Oryn spoke of rebuilding the senate, the purpose of the Seventh Fleet in romulan space, and the new destiny of the empire. At the conclusion of the speech that restored the Romulan Star Empire, the once commander opened the festivities that would continue for the next four days.


As he completed the turn, Tolok found himself face to face with a Romulan woman in a one piece utility coverall. Presumably one of the station maintenance personnel.

"May I help you?", the commander repeated the question after the silence stretched to what, for most species, would have been an uncomfortable length. Being Vulcan, Tolok felt no discomfort whatsoever.

The woman continued to study him, analysing his features and taking in his uniform as well as his semi-formal bearing. Her hand dropped to her side as she sized him up and she took a step backwards before talking. "My mistake, Sir. I was expecting someone different." So saying, she turned her head, dropped to her knees and returned her attention to whatever was within the open panel at her feet.

Tolok nodded and started to turn back on his previous path. His progress was arrested, however, when he caught a glimpse of a device protruding from one of the technician's coverall pockets. It had only been visible for a moment and only from the corner of his eye but the profile was unmistakable. There was nothing else he knew of, either natural or technological, that looked quite the same as the grip of a Romulan disruptor.

Glancing down again to ensure that the she was occupied, Tolok walked away from the open access panel, continuing on towards the compartment he'd been seeking all along. As he passed the final corridor bulkhead on the way to his goal, his right hand reached for the fleet insignia on his chest.

"Lieutenant Commander Tolok to security." he muttered.

"SIr?", the disembodied voice was not one the Vulcan recognised but then no-one had been aboard the Arabella long enough to be fully familiar with everyone on the crew.

"You might wish to inform station security personnel of an armed Romulan female working in an access panel fifty meters from my present position aboard the station." he kept walking as he talked, not once glancing behind him to see if he was observed. "It may be a matter of no consequence but a check of her identity and status will surely harm no-one."

Closing the channel as he arrived at the door he sought, Tolok tapped on the chime at the side of the entryway. Nothing could be heard from within the chamber, but it was only seconds before the door opened and a familiar voice called out.

"Enter Commander. Come in and meet my family."

I know it's unnusual here but I don't have a podcast of my own.


Watching the view screen Rayon smiled. Putting his hands behind his back he stood tall. "how very dashing you look Oryn. I wonder what lurks behind that mask you so obviously wear" turning to look at the station through the view port window the Cardassians eyes went from humorous wit to one of disgust. "Romulans, Humans, Vulcans all with their masks on. The world is a stage, and i aim to see their curtain call" he allowed the last part of the word to drift through his clenched teeth as he turned his back on the station.


As Tolok stepped toward the door in response to the invitation, the grating whine of a Romulan transporter echoed through the bare metallic hallway. A Romulan and a Reman, both dressed in Imperial fleet uniform and wearing holstered disruptors materialised two meters away from the Vulcan, their attention focused on the legs protruding into the walkway from the crawl space.

Together they stepped forward and at the same time, at the junction beyond the woman's position, another pair of guards moved into view. Obviously hearing something, the technician backed out of the work space and started to get to her feet, the questioning look clear on her face. As her left hand moved to her pocket, a beam of coherent energy lanced out from one of the further guards and struck her low in the midsection and, with a groan, she crumpled to the deck once again.

From both ends of the corridor, the guards converged on her position, reaching her more or less simultaneously. The Reman put something in his pocket, a stun weapon of some sort Tolok reasoned, then reached down and removed the disruptor from the woman's pocket, tossing it to one of his colleagues who was maintaining a watch some steps away. Standing again, the Reman pulled the woman to her feet, turned and nodded to Tolok before the whole party disappeared as a transporter seized them.

"Interesting." Tolok stared at the space where the woman had been, brow raised in what could only be described as surprise.

A female chuckle from inside the room brought him back from his analysis of the operation he'd provoked. As he returned his attention to the doorway, a Romulan woman pushed passed the old man who had intruded into main engineering a few days before and nodded in the direction of the corridor.

"Security operations are most efficient aboard the station." she stated without a trace or irony. "Whoever they've taken will be questioned for a while and then released if appropriate. There have been a few incidents since we've been here but mostly the treatment has been fair and equitable." She extended a hand of greeting to Tolok, "On behalf of my whole family may I thank you and your ship for rescuing my father and the others on the ship with him."

Stepping aside, she gestured the Vulcan into the room. "My daughter", the old man said with a smile, "and her family. As I told you in my message I found them aboard when we docked. Never have I been so happy to see someone." The truth of this statement was clear to the Vulcan as he looked around the living space, cluttered with containers and belongings not yet arranged or ordered. Struggling for a suitable response, Tolok eventually gave in, finding nothing appropriate to say.

"Come, eat with us." The woman ushered the Commander further into the quarters where the sounds of children playing were starting to intrude upon the quiet. "I'm sure your duties will allow you a small meal with us before returning to wherever you should be."

"We are not so grand as to be invited to the celebrations aboard.", the old man pretended sorrow but it was clear from his eyes that he was no so sad as his voice portrayed, "but in truth we are happy to spend the time with family...and with new friends."

Lieutenant Commander Tolok, Vulcan, Starfleet Officer, Engineer and father simply nodded and strode forward into the Romulan living space, as alien an environment as he could ever have envisioned when he embarked on the Arabella. Picking up a small child, who attempted to tackle him, as he passed he moved towards the table to be introduced to the remainder of the family.

I know it's unnusual here but I don't have a podcast of my own.