Stardate:90331-1800
Scene: Deck 4 - McLeary's Quarters
ds101@protv.ro
He was just about to send the message to LtCmdr. Alyza
when he stopped himself and took a deep breath.
This was all going to fast. Arriving at the station and being
asked to sit in on a high level meeting in his first day. Now
all this speculation about this station.
"Computer:" He ordered. Give me the schematic of DS101
deck by deck."
Up popped the outside view. It still looked as it did when he
arrived. Alien but not quite. Greenish/gray metal, but - well,
almost welcoming with the Two great pods outstretched as
if in some form of greeting. Then came the station's specs:
COMPLEMENT
Total Standard : 330
Officers : 30
Crew : 300
Passengers : 15,000
max life support : 30,000
It seemed so much bigger. Of course with all that is going
on around here the compliment could be all over the place.
Not uncommon for areas to seem deserted.
He continued his review deck by deck and found that the
station was, generally, completed and that only a few areas
had the octagonal configuration. "So much for that theory"
He mused.
He took a quick look at the Banglore specs and found it too
was smaller than he had originally thought. "A Samurai class
vessel - Damn!" he muttered. How foolish. Fresh out of the
Academy and unable to recognize a Samurai Class starship.
That was all he needed. He revised his memo to the Lt. Cmdr.
and planned to do a lot of reading before he offered any more
speculations about the station. In the morning he would
go down to decks 8 and 9 where the alien computer corps was
located. He would need some help to get around the station,
someone who know their way.
To: Lt. Cmdr. Alyza
FO/CSciO - DS101
From: Ensign Michael Scott McLeary
Archaeological Specialist Officer
Subject: Station Scientific History
Commander:
I have been assigned by Commander Ruane to familiarize
myself with DS101 especially in regards to its architecture
and archaeological significance. I assume that since you
are the Chief Science Officer I should report to you any
observations and findings. I will need someone assigned to
me to show me around. Preferably someone with computer
skills that know the station's Federation setup and how it is
tied to the alien computer. I plan to visit the computer corps
tomorrow and will report to you if I find anything of importance.
Submitted
Ens. Michael McLeary
It was 10 pm. Mick left the room to walk around. He was too
excited and needed to calm down. The days events were,
well, almost overwhelming. When he returned to his quarters
he found a message from Lt. Commander Alyza notifying him
that he was to indeed report to her, and she would send Barak,
who was a computer expert, to assist him on learning more about
the computer core, a project she herself was curious about.
She simply had not had time to pursue it yet. The message said
she would get back to him when Ip'sc had been found, and until
then, she requested that Ens. McLeary get as much information
as he could on the Dergred cult, and settle himself in his quarters
on deck 4.
He hit the rack now ready for whatever might come tomorrow.
Submitted
Ens. Michael McLeary
Chuck Stotz
Stardate: 90401.1414
Scene: Console Room
"I have no problem arranging a session with the Senate for your
Captain to speak to, but I don't see why I should foward you a copy of our
subspace relay systems.", said the Dergrad officer Nyglen. Roberts was
able to get a hold of this representative of one of the Senate members.
From what Roberts knew of Dergrad politics these representatives were an
integral part of their functioning government.
"Nyglen, knowing more precisely how your subspace communications
work will give us a better chance of pinpointing where the rebels hae
taking this Federation citizen.", said Roberts, being patient as possible.
For some reason the Dergrad had a talent of trying one's patience,
especially Roberts.
"Perhaps it is because the Federation wants to gain a greater
advantage over us." Typical Dergrad, always assuming the worst, Roberts
thought.
"Why would we do that. We already have a foothold over you.", said
Roberts simplistically. Nyglen was taken aback. Although he had little
experience in dealing with Starfleet, he heard they were quite diplomatic.
Apparently he was misinformed.
"Look Nyglen.", started Roberts. "Your technology is quite
inferior to ours, and therefore we have no use to try and exploit your
tech. If you provide us with the schematics, it would go a long way in our
mutual relationship."
Nyglen sat back and laughed loudly. "You are quite the politician
John Roberts. You threatened the Dergrad and ask us for a favor in one
sentence. Very well, I will transmit the schematics to your station. You
may let your Captain know that I will have a Senate member contact him
within your standard hour."
"Thank you.", said Roberts.
"And polite too.", said Nyglen as he terminated the transmission.
One task down, thought Roberts as he sighed.
"Roberts to Ruane."
[Go ahead], said the captain.
"I've spoken to a Dergrad Senate representative. A Senate member
will be contacting you on a secured channel within the hour."
[Very good John. How's the situation tring to find the rebels?]
"I received a copy of Dergrad subspace technology. I'll use it as
a reference to pinpoint the origin of the transmission."
[Let me know when you find something, Ruane out]
Respectfully submitted
Robert Stadnik
Ensign John Roberts
Specialist, currently Assistant Operations Officer
Deep Space 101
stadnr01@student.ucr.edu
NRPG:PHIL: I figure you'll want to post the senate meeting yourself.
Scene: USS BANGLORE, main engineering
SD: 90401
Turik Radjan looked around the small engineering part of the
Samuri class starship. He had ordered his engineers to look for any
problems and report to him when the reports are done, and Turik believed
it will be soon.
"Sir?" Johnathan Elliot said. Turik turned and looked at his assistant.
"Yes?"
"The diagnostics are done." Elliot said. "The shield generators
took some damage, and the same as the weapons systems. The repairs are
beginning. Ensign Haymore is requesting some assiatance. I thought you
and I can help her."
"Very well." Turik said. He enjoyed working with his crew, and
learning about them. It was odd for a Vulcan, yes, but Turik was diffrent.
Elliot led him across the ship to themain phaser banks.
"Oh, Lieutennant." Haymore said, she lifted up an extra
engineering bag. "I'm glad I brought this. You have one right John?"
"Yeah." Elliot said, holding up his, He opned it and took out a
tricorder, and scanned the banks.
"The phasers are damaged a bit, they should be repaired in about
30 minuites, 15 if we work fast." Elliot said
"Sounds like fun!" June said, beggining the repairs to the phasers.
"So, how did you get involved in Egineering guys?" June said,
trying to strike up conversation.
"I found it facinating." Turik said, helping her with the conversation.
"My dad was an Engineer. I can't remember the ship, then he was
promoted to a Captain. He and my mom knew each other for 25 years,before
getting married. Dad never wants to talk about why. I think something
happned. Then when i was born, he got me into Enginnerign, and we got
repairing shuttles. He even got me a job on the tation he was on when he
was promoted to Captain." Elliot said
"My, what a past. Your dad sounds like a nice guy." Haymore said
"He is. But whatever happned in his past bothers him. Not anymore
though. Hes an Admiral now, back at SFI. I think something to do with
Engineering, I havent talked to him for a while. But mom is taking to me
fopr a while. She said, Dad is having problems with the Romulans. He
never liked them."
"May I add something?" Turik asked politely.
"Sure." Elliot said.
"It sonds like your fathers past may have something to do with the
Romulans. in 2384 his ship was captured by Romulans I believe. He si
Captain William Elliot?" Turik said. John nodded.
"Yeah, something must have happned there. I'llhave to talk to
him." Elliot said. "There, that looks good. June, go check it ot in
Engineering, Turik and I will stay here." Elliot said, then he looked at
Turik, "Right sir?"
"Correct." Turik replied.
"I'm sorry about that sir, I'm used to being the commanding
officer in enginerring, when your not there."
"I understand." Turik said. It was Human behaviout to believe
they were the 'best'. But turik have never seen a Human do that for a
long time...
Lt. Turik Radjan
Chief Engineering Officer
Deep Space 101
SCENE: Dergrad Vessel
SD: 90402.0250
Ip'sc was shaken back to consciousness. The Dergrad standing over
him smiled a toothy smile--a sight Ip'sc took as bad news. Except for the
conversation when he first awoke aboard the ship, no one had spoken to him
or taken any interest in him.
How long had he been here? It had been at least several days. The
initial panic had long since run its course and vanished. The pain from
being tied to the chair had long since displaced all feelings--both
physical and emotional. Why was he here? Except for the odd reports that
he came upon, he knew nothing about the Dergrad. And why would he be
important to them?
"Well, human," the Dergrad said. "We have accomplished our goals,
it seems--thanks to your help. As I promised, yours will be a quick
death." Various sounds of disappointment and disapproval sounded behind
Ip'sc. Until now, Ip'sc thought that he and his captor were alone.
If he were going to die, then at least he'd have a measure of
satisfaction before he succumbed. "Good," he croaked, his parched voice
sounding alien after so many days without water. "Your smell was starting
to make me sick." His insolence was rewarded with a back-handed slap
across the face. Ip'sc barely noticed the additional pain as his jaw was
dislocated by the blow; he was already beyond agony.
"Let's string it out," someone jeered from the cover of darkness.
"Make him suffer." The suggestion was met with several cheers. Ip'sc
estimated that there were six other people in the room with him. The odds
were fairly dismal, if not downright impossible.
The Dergrad leader turned to his people. "I told him he would die
quickly. There will be others, my brothers." This announcement was met
with renewed enthusiasm and cheers. The leader again turned to Ip'sc and
drew a knife from beneath his loose robes. "You have performed a great
service in our holy war against the demons. For this service, I grant you
a swift death."
Ip'sc watched the knife slowly rise above his head. It was only
moments away from plunging into his chest, but Ip'sc kept his eyes open.
He promised himself he would face death this way. Time slowed, and the
motion of the blade came to an apparent halt. He recognized the phenomenon
as the instant just before death--or at least the perception of it. Ip'sc
had experienced this twice before while fighting the Cardassians on Bajor.
It was a pleasant feeling, actually, and he watched as his
viewpoint seemed to detach itself from his body. The scene began to play
in a wide angle, panoramic view. There was no fear, just the acceptance of
the inevitable--so close now.
The tranquillity vanished, and the panoramic picture gave way to a
tunnel vision image of the still slowly-rising blade. 'You're a fighter,
Ip,' his inner voice challenged. 'Are you going to let these bastards win
without a fight?' Ip'sc knew the answer to that question, and in that
instant, time returned to normal.
Drawing the last available bit of moisture in his arid mouth, Ip'sc
spat upon his executioner, then laughed. "I spit on you, coward," he cried
triumphantly.
The Dergrad stopped, then took a close look at Ip'sc. Without
warning, his fist slammed into Ip'sc's face, breaking the human's nose.
"No one spits on me, human," he explained. The Dergrad's fist then
connected with Ip'sc's stomach, knocking the breath out of the helpless
human. "And no one calls me a coward," finished the Dergrad.
After regaining his breath, Ip'sc regarded his captor with a
defiant look on his face. "Is that the best you can do, carbo? Slaughter
a helpless captive, without even the courtesy of explaining why?"
The Dergrad leader considered the question, obviously unaware of
Ip'sc's insult. "We do not discuss the details of our holy war with
outsiders," he admitted. "But your quick death is in honor of your
contribution to our cause. Do not take that honor lightly," he warned.
"Like I said, you're a bunch of cowards!" Ip'sc managed to spit
again, this time, landing his spittle at the Dergrad's feet. "I spit on
your holy cause, and I want no 'honor' from a religion filled with
cowards."
This angered the assembled Dergrad. The leader gestured to his men
behind Ip'sc. The men, now furious, lined up in a single row behind the
leader. Ip'sc gulped; he had miscalculated--fifteen men now formed a wall
between him and the entrance to the room. The Dergrad leader stepped
forward and grabbed Ip'sc by his hair. "Very well, human. Since you
reject the honor of our cause, my men will have the pleasure of killing
you. They are going to find out first hand how many bones are in a human,
by breaking each one in your worthless, little body."
Ip'sc tried to spit on the leader again, but could not find the
saliva to do so. The attempt was not lost on the Dergrad leader. He
smiled, backhanded Ip'sc again, then nodded to the first of his men.
***************
Scene: The Mall
Lynn Shimura hurried down the large mall corridor, stopping briefly
at each shop, but only long enough to quickly scan inside each doorway.
Her methodical path took her back and forth across the corridor--an
observer probably would get dizzy following her path down the vast corridor
of the main mall.
Not that this was particularly unusual. Stranger things happened
on a regular basis. The unusual part was that this was at least her tenth
circuit around the station in the past two days. The only thing different
this time was the travel bag slung over her shoulder, which she
occasionally had to hoist back up--that and the air of urgency as she set a
tiringly quick pace down the corridor.
At last, she was rewarded with the sight of Dr. M'Beya in one of
the smaller specialty boutique stores. She hurried over to his side and
waited for him to complete his business with the storekeeper. She waited
until they both walked out of the store before speaking. "You've been
avoiding me, Jefferson."
"Nonsense," dismissed M'Beya. "All in your imagination."
"I'm coming with you, and that's final."
"I'm sorry, my dear. You'll have to go ahead yourself. I've
already taken an early lunch."
Shimura stopped and angrily addressed her employer. "Damn it,
Jefferson! I'm tired of playing games with you. I know you're going to
look for Ip, and I'm coming along."
M'Beya stopped and turned towards Shimura. "What ever gave you
that idea?"
"You cleaned up your desk before you left this morning. You never
clean up--you leave it for me."
M'Beya gave an unconvincing chuckle. "So I decided to be
considerate for a change. That hardly..."
"And your ship is being prepared for launch." In response to
M'Beya's surprised expression, Shimura continued. "Yes, I checked. You
have a lead on Ip's location, and you're about to go looking for him."
Before M'Beya could protest, she stopped him with a raised hand and a shake
of her head. "You're a good man, Jefferson. Sure, you're arrogant and
infuriating, but deep down, you really do care. When you talk about Ip'sc,
I can see the concern in your face."
The tall, human doctor looked down at his employee. "Is it that
obvious," he asked.
"Yes, it is," Shimura answered, the frustration now absent.
M'Beya turned and continued walking down the corridor. "I'm going
to have to work on that," he joked as Shimura caught up to him.
"There you go again," scolded Shimura.
M'Beya quickly came to a halt and faced Shimura. "Lynn, you can't
go with me." Before she could protest, he put his index finger across her
lips to silence her. "Ip'sc has been kidnapped by the Dergrad. He's in
real danger. Capt Ruane and the staff are sitting in meetings and
negotiations, and who knows what, trying to find him. Meanwhile, some of
my associates have possibly determined his whereabouts. I'm going to check
it out--but I have to do it alone.
"There's nothing you can do on this trip. Besides, I need you to
keep up the store. If the shop suddenly closes, the Dergrad might get
suspicious, and that won't bode well for Ip'sc. And you'll be my source of
information while I'm gone. You're the only one on this station I trust;
but you have to be here for this to work. Do you understand?"
Shimura frowned, but slowly nodded her head. "All right, you've
convinced me." Before he could leave, Shimura pulled M'Beya's head down
and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Just be careful, and please find Ip,"
she whispered in his ear.
The trademark grin appeared on M'Beya's face. "Please, Lynn, we
don't have time for this. Perhaps when I return...."
"Oh, you're infuriating!"
***********************
NRPG:
Armin: Road Trip? :->
All: HELP!!!
Chuck and Sherman: Welcome aboard. Sorry it's taken me so long to greet
you two. But I hope you're having fun.
Bogdan: Congrats on your new posting. Sorry we didn't have the
opportunity to do something substantial before you left. Maybe on your
next shore leave?
Respectfully Submitted,
Ipsc Carbo
Civilian
DS101
hiha@tfs.com
**SD: 90402.1953**
**Scene: Observation Lounge**
One hour. One hour. Ruane tried his best to concentrate on the day-
to-day running of the station, but for the entire hour he was thinking
about his coming communique with the Imperial Senate. As the time
arrived he beat his fingers in a rough rhythm against the wood of the
conference table he sat at, he was impatient. Another two minutes later
he started pacing, being careful not to distance himself from the
communications console just incase they closed the link before he
reached it. Ten minutes after they were due to call they finally did
so. Ruane moved to his chair and sat, taking a deep breath to compose
himself. He straightened his uniform before excepting the link. The
face of a Dergrad appeared on the screen, he wore a beautiful woven gown
and an interesting hat, a gold pattern was embroided next to the Dergrad
state symbol; Graeme guessed rightly this indicated what department this
member of the Senate represented - he didn't try to guess which it
refered to however.
"Captain Graeme Philip Ruane, I am Councellor Fer'ta of the Dergrad
Imperial Senate. I am head of 'alien' relations." He said.
"Councellor Fer'ta, it is a pleasure to speak with you." Graeme
nodded his head as a sign of respect, Fer'ta did the same.
"Councellor, are you aware of my reasons for contacting you?"
"I am, however the Dergrad Empire does not acknowledge the existance
of a rebel faction. The attacks on Federation ships have been
instigated by the Vurtedions in an attempt to break down diplomatic
relations between us and your Federation." He said it loudly, as though
not talking to Ruane, but to somebody in the room with him. Ruane moved
closer to the screen, knowing *exactly* what Fer'ta was up to. He
whispered and growled at the same time.
"Come now Fer'ta. We are both aware of what is happening out there.
Either your Goverment admits it, or the Federation shall taken action
itself, which I'm sure will be an emarasing turn of events; the mighty
Empire unable to control it's own. Outsiders dealing with it's
problems, imagine the weaknesses that will open up." Graeme grinned a
wicked grin that seemed almost threatening. It was Fer'tas turn to move
closer to the screen and whisper.
"What do you want?"
"*I* want you to help us find a missing civilian. Mr.Ip'Sc Carbo, he
is being held hostage by the rebels. Then I want you to find these
rebels and sort out your internal affairs." The threatening stance
remained in Graeme's tone and expresions.
"We'll see." The link closed, the Dergrad Empire's state symbol
appeared briefly before being replaced by the Federations. Graeme
looked at it for while, a feeling of triumph slowly growing. He stood
up and headed for Club 101.
**Scene: Club 101**
Ruane arrived at the same time Michelle Gordan arrived, she had
responded swiftly to his communication. She stood by the entrance,
dressed in a long black dress. The cut melted the fabric into her
slight curves. Graeme couldn't help but think of how beautiful the
woman looked. He said so as he greeted her and they moved to a table,
they began to talk over drinks.
...three-and-a-half hours later.
"...and then." Graemes conversation was interupted by a bleep of his
comm badge.
"Ruane here."
[Captain, incoming transmission from the Dergrad Imperial Senate.]
"I'm on my way." Graeme stood. "I'm sorry Michelle, I must go;
things are getting bad and I want to be sure they don't get worse."
"I understand Graeme. I'll see you soon." She stood and kissed him
softly on the lips. Graeme looked deep into her eyes as did she his.
"Now go." She smiled and broke the eye contact. Graeme grinned.
"Sorry." He said as he headed for the turbolift. And indeed he was,
if the warmth of emotion that had been imminating from the table of
Graeme and Michelle could be seen, then anybody within a lightyear of
Club 101 would have been blinded. As the turbolift headed towards the
observation lounge Graeme thought about something she had said.
**I understand Graeme.** He thought about what that meant, he was a
StarFleet officer, his work was often a priority; yet when he had said
he must attend to a station need she had responded by saying she
understood. He wondered whether she knew what she had said. He also
wondered if anything was to come of his relationship with her, would he
still want to carry it on after a regeneration; *if* he were to die
again of course. The turbolift doors hissed open with an ill sound,
revealing the observation lounge. Graeme stepped out and approached his
chair.
**Scene: Observation Lounge**
"Captain Ruane. The Senate has come to a decision. We shall be
assigning the Dergrad Flagship and it's squadron to locate your
Mr.Ip'Sc, we shall also be assigning our newest vessel. We want you to
know that we are taking this matter seriously." Fer'ta said, his tone
(of course)serious. Graeme half-smiled.
"I'm glad to hear it Councellor. And what about the rebel base?"
"That will be the next mission; but we are hoping the first will lead
us to the other. We are sending our new vessel to pick up the rebel
scum held within your brig, our methods should get more information out
of them than yours."
"Understood. We look forward to seeing this new ship you seem so
proud of." Graeme smiled, but behind he was thinking of what they might
do to the prisoners currently in DS 101's brig. He remebered his time
held captive by the Klingons; he wouldn't wish that pain on anybody. He
shuddered, it was something he thought of *very* rarely, infact it had
been 2 years since he last recalled any of it, a year and half since his
last 'dream', he obviously remembered it had happened; but he didn't
think about the details.
"By the way Captain. I think you should realise that somebody from
your station is somewhere around Dergrad space. For now we shall leave
them alone, no doubt you have your reasons for sending them. We *hope*
they shall not interfere." It was Fer'tas turn to threaten Ruane, it
was lost however; Graeme had no idea what he was on about.
"They shan't." Graeme bluffed, he would have to find out what was
going on.
"Until next time." Fer'ta said.
"Thank you." The channel closed. Graeme tapped his comm badge.
"Ruane to Alyza."
[Alyza here.]
"LtCmdr, I've been informed that a vessel originating from this
station is playing around in Dergrad space. See what you can find for
me."
[Yes Captain.] The comm link closed, Graeme stood and headed for the
mall.
**Scene: The Mall, M'Beya's Shop**
Graeme walked in to be faced by a young female.
"Can you get me Mr.M'Beya?"
Submitted by Phil Long
Captain.Graeme Philip Ruane
Commanding Officer
Deep Space 101, Amgine Sector
Cocoon Fleet
<**NRPG**>
Armin: We shall assume the ship is M'beyas.
All: Okay the Dergrad's most advanced ship is on the way to show itself
off to us and pick up the Dergrad Rebels we have stuffed in DS 101's
brig. Just a few thoughts;
1)Wouldn't this be a nice time for the Rebels to embarace their
'Government' infront of us?
2)How are the Imperial Dergrad going to react to finding Ip'Sc;
might it be best if M'Beya got there first? :)
3)How much pain can Ip'Sc take.
-Cheers, Pinky.
(
geocities.com/area51/cavern) (
geocities.com/area51)