Andae Blakus
Moderator ..
Commander 1C
Registered: Oct 17, 2007 22:48:27 GMT
Posts: 1,474
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Post by Andae Blakus on Mar 24, 2013 15:54:16 GMT
Blakus returned to the bridge, arriving just before the Captain and the other officers. Watson’s entourage – the Proximian inspectors – had returned to their vessel, which had extracted itself from the Raven’s airlock mechanism and was now ‘floating free’ alongside.
Blakus watched the senior staff walking past to their stations, “I didn’t like that. It was too invasive," he said, referring to the information requests.
"I concur, Commander," Calli said, "Coordinator Freem wasn't particularly pleasant either."
"Has the Commodore been brought in from the hull?" Watson looked around, taking the command chair.
Blakus glanced back at his console. That was proving a slow process. What they needed was for the immigration vessel to leave, so they didn't have to be so careful about concealing the Commodore as he moved across the hull. One wrong move could result in his detection.
"He and the marine chief are about twenty metres from the airlock," Andae reported. A quiet, but insistent, alarm began chirping on the console's alert panel. "Wait, there's a problem. One of them has floated free from the hull. It's the marine chief."
Watson had a channel opened and asked for a report. "I've lost my magnetic lock," the chief's voice came through grainily. He sounded calm given what'd happened.
Blakus's hands flew across the console. He exchanged information with the Ops officer, the two of them attempting to deduce if the chief was at risk of detection by the immigration vessel. There was especial cause for concern, because the Raven had adjusted its attitude - an automatic correction to stay with the Proximian's strict flight path requirements - in the time since the marine had become unattached, and now the chief was some fifty metres away from the hull of the stardrive. "I recommend transportation," Blakus called to the command area, but the words died in his throat.
As he made his suggestion the idling engines of the immigration vessel powered up, and the small craft began thrusting towards Proxima Oralix. It cut across the Raven's bow - not an unusual manoeuvre - and passed roughly through the volume that the marine chief had drifted into.
The still open comm line to the marine chief cut out abruptly, no sound punctuating the fateful conclusion. Andae's unbelieving senses retuned to the engineering console. It was still exchanging data with the Ops console; the sensor information confirmed that the marine chief had indeed been terminated.
Stunned at the ill fortune, he leant on his console eyes closed, his hands shaking minutely, his skin boiling. Dialogue shot back and forth around the bridge, the chief's grisly death being verified for the Acting CO. Watson cleared his throat, "Monitor the immigration vessel. Are they aware of what happened?"
"If they are they're not showing it," Wedlerson reported, subdued. "They've entered orbit of the planet... Lost sensor contact... They've gone around the other side."
"Stay alert for anything that could signify knowledge of the... collision. If they know what happened we could soon be in difficulty."
Once the Commodore was back in from the hull, the Raven slowly took up its position in orbit. Blakus and Wedlerson initiated an intensive seismological survey of the surface, focussing particularly on the densely-populated region in which were several of the world's largest power plants. If there was something concealed beneath the surface, something suitably large that could be drawing such electrical power, then the Raven's sensor package would find it.
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Alex Watson
Commander 1C
All that glitters has a high refractive index.
Registered: Apr 10, 2011 14:30:46 GMT
Posts: 102
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Post by Alex Watson on Mar 25, 2013 18:00:29 GMT
Alex sat stunned in the command chair. He'd commanded men to attack before, he'd commanded men to kill before. He himself had killed before. But this, this was different. This was either a terrible accident or deliberate, cold-blooded murder. He heart told him the latter, even though his brain was whirring trying to come up with an explanation that would suggest the former other than just “bad luck.” Tight-lipped, he oversaw the Raven's descent into orbit above Proxima Oralix, the rest of his command crew gathered around the bridge. The immigration vessel had long since vanished back planetside, and Andae was scanning the surface for any anomalies. He had no hopes that they would turn up the marine chief, however.
Standing up, he moved over to where Carl stood. None the worse physically for his ordeal on the hull, although visibly shaken at how close he himself had potentially come to losing his own life, he stood rigid, staring out into space. Alex took a small, pill-like capsule and loaded it into a hypodermic gun. Carl looked at him with a raised eyebrow.
“Bio-damper,” Alex explained. “We can't risk them picking you up. You've got a unique physiology on this ship, Commodore. You'd be very easy to spot if they ran another scan.”
Carl nodded, barely flinching as the capsule was inserted just beneath the epidermis of his right forearm.
“I'll be in my quarters. For now, Commander Valenti, you have the conn.”
All eyes followed Alex as he left the bridge, he didn't look back as the turbolift doors closed behind him.
---
Alex sat alone in his quarters, composing the notice of death to the family of the dead marine. He couldn't think of the right words. He'd typed over fifteen explanations for how the man had met his demise, and deleted them all directly afterwards. Among the more florid were “lost a game of chicken to a spaceship”, “senselessly murdered by a bunch of evil witches” and “killed under captain's idiotic orders.” He didn't even hear the door open behind him as Carl came in.
“Permission to enter, Captain?” he heard the Commodore ask, he still couldn't get used to that.
“Carl...good to see you. How are you holding up?”
“I could ask you the same thing. You look terrible.”
“Thanks.” Alex laughed a dry chuckle. “I killed him.”
“No.”
“I sent him, and you, out onto that hull. It was insanity, we should have gone with a pod like Blakus suggested. It's my fault he's dead.”
“El-Kamat killed him.”
“El-Kamat is god knows where, he could be fifty systems away by now. No, it wasn't El-Kamat.”
“Fine, but do you still believe that you serve Starfleet?”
Alex looked up at Carl as if he were mad. “Of course I serve Starfleet.”
“And Starfleet serves the Federation?”
“Yes...”
“And the Federation is dedicated to pursuing peace and prosperous relations between all species?”
“Yes.”
“Then that's what he died for. You didn't kill him any more than you killed those who died in the ambush back at Zennai. They died in the service of the Federation, Alex. You can't start blaming yourself for individual deaths. That's the way madness lies.”
“Hmph...I, yeah you're right. It's just this...this was so cold. So calculated.”
“I know, and we're going to get to the bottom of this.”
“You bet we are. We'll avenge him, we'll avenge everyone who has given their lives for this mission. We'll make their sacrifice mean something.” He turned around, typing finally into the death certificate “gave his life in dedicated service to the Federation, to Peace.”
“What's the sitrep on the bridge?” Alex asked.
“Andae's still scanning, but we've found nothing.”
“Maybe it's time to see this planet for ourselves.” Alex tapped his commbadge. “Transporter room 2 get ready. Bridge, this is the captain speaking. Assemble an away team.”
<Tag Carl, All>
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Calli Valente
Starfleet Intelligence
"Don't get in my way."
Registered: Aug 4, 2010 21:19:10 GMT
Posts: 539
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Post by Calli Valente on Mar 26, 2013 21:31:05 GMT
Captain Watson's quarters:Carl was worried that Alex wasn't fully taking in what he was saying. He needed the Acting Captain to realize 'he' was not responsible for the death of the Marine, but he needn't have worried: "What's the sit-rep on the bridge ?" "Andae's still scanning, but he's found nothing so far." "Maybe it's time to see this planet for ourselves." Alex tapping his Comm badge. =^= Transporter Room Two .. Get ready ... Bridge to Commander Valenti .. Assemble an away team .. Fifteen minutes .. Transporter Room =^= He didn't wait for a reply as he stood and headed toward the door. "Good luck." Carl said. "You'll need to visit Sick-bay for a booster every eight hours. Try not to be late." Alex said, only half serious as he left ..... Transporter Room Two:Calli walked in, surprised to see the Captain already there. She moved to the screen embedded in the bulkhead beside the transporter console and asked Alex to join her: "I'll update you while we're waiting on the others ....." she said, bringing up a schematic of the main city on Proxima Prime, "We'll be beaming into Customs Center Number Two, inside the main inner city quarter. Apparently there are over three thousand of these centers scattered around the planet. We'll beam in and go through their version of a full spectrum scan, to ensure we're not smuggling in anything they'd prefer left off-planet. The scans are thorough, and I do mean thorough, so there will be no way of hiding anything, however small, either organic of otherwise .... We'll receive our 'Tags' during the scan. They use some sort of untraceable Bio-metric DNA marking. So if we can't find it, we can't de-activate or modify it ... Once through Customs we will be free to roam wherever we like. I have the sneaky feeling this 'tagging' of their may well allow them to track our movements while on the surface too, but that's pure guesswork given we can't get 'OFF' the surface without their consent, or those nasty little bugger's in orbit will see to our rapid demise." she shrugged as the other team members entered the room ... "Commander Peers, what have you found out about that orbital defense net of their's ?" "Not a lot Sir." the Security Chief admitted, "I 'can' confirm that they could cut the Raven in half should they so wish, so maybe best not to upset em." he finished, a wry grin forming. Alex turned to the Transporter Operator: "Chief, contact Proxima, request clearance for transport." .......... < Tag : Captain / Away Team > ..... Let's go
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Marionette
Commander
Dr. Soong's penchant for whimsical names seems to have no end.
Registered: Mar 2, 2012 3:26:33 GMT
Posts: 285
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Post by Marionette on Mar 27, 2013 0:00:13 GMT
Marionette entered Counselor Becks office, and spoke "Greetings." Karen Beck looked up and was taken aback as to why Marionette had apparently wandered in. "Are you .... Lost ?" Karen didn't think that the robot could get lost, and it didn't even occur to her that the robot would need counseling. "No, i am in the right place. I wish to try to rectify memory files of events which did, and yet somehow, did not actually happen." Marionette said, and had a seat on the couch, which further astounded Beck, who was beginning to suspect that she was either being pranked, or that a whole metric ton of out of her league had just been daintily laid in her lap. After a long pause, and both women staring at eachother, Beck finally spoke "I don't mean to be rude, but, i'm inclined to think that either someone put you up to this, or you probably need to go to Blakus and have him give you a tune-up..... or ...... something." "I understand your reasons for skepticism, however, Commander Blakus cannot find a technical explanation. Since there is no technological solution, i wish to try to solve it in a more ..... Human, fashion." Marionette said, distinctly blinking in a rather creepy robotic fashion, unwittingly providing a humorously ironic counterpoint to her words. Counselor Beck laid her forehead on the desk and giggled like a hyena, apparently deciding that yes, this was a prank of some sort. Marionette slowly leaned over, making a curiously fascinated face. "Have i said something .... Amusing?" she arched an eyebrow, curious as to what the punchline to the apparent joke was. Drawing her head up off the desk, Beck responded "No, no, its not that, im sorry for laughing at you, but ive never heard of a robot needing any sort of therapy." she said, trying her best to strain the smile off of her face. Taking a deep breath, Beck tried to once more, start from the top. It was definitely new territory for her. Usually, Beck could mind-scan those who came to see her, and therefore get a very good clip of progress going in solving whatever problems they had trouble dealing with..... Not so with this robot now in front of her. To her mind-scan abilities, it was as if Karen was alone in the office. Marionette projected little, if any presence in the room at all. Karen picked up a PADD, and called up Marionette's files "So, what seems to be glitching you..... Marionette." Counselor Beck did a triple-take as to Marionette's name, and face-palmed while grinning ..... ~ OMG, the jokes just don't stop, do they ? ~ she thought to herself. Marionette halted what she was saying and asked if she said something funny again. "I was scanning your file, and it says here your name is 'Marionette'.... as in, a puppet. I found that to be hilarious, to be honest." "Scanning ?.... is it not I, who is the android here ?" Marionette said, lofting both eyebrows and thinking that Beck was literally downloading Marionette's psychological files, the way Marionette herself would download a file of this or that. Beck broke into giggle-fits again at Marionette's unwitting joke. Taking another deep breath (or 3), Beck wiped her hand down her face, pressed afew buttons on the PADD, and said "You know, for an android who is allegedly clueless about humor, you certainly do seem to execute it fairly well. This is one of the more ..... Entertaining, therapy sessions i've had..... So, back to whats bothering you." Karen said, trying to become not-amused. ((After much talking, and further accidental hilarity ensuing, the counseling session is ended semi-successfully .... Maybe? )) = - = - = - = - = - = - = - = - = - = - = As Marionette exited the counselors office, her comm-badge chimed, letting her know that she had been assigned an away-mission. On the way to the transporter room, Marionette sent a letter to Bethan, answering most of the rapid-fire questions that had left the gynoid speechless at the time. Greetings Bethan Torek,
As i am writing this, i am currently heading for the transporter room. I wanted to answer the questions you asked of me, before i left for the away mission.
I am not familiar with the specifics of horses and other related species, however, i have recently learned that expressions involving horses indicate abundance and heartiness. I find this to be strange.
I cannot swim, as i am not fully sealed against immersion. However, i am very water resistant, and can withstand notable amounts of adverse precipitous weather.
I cannot smell or ingest food, as i am powered by a small cluster of di-lithium-ion batteries, which hold a functioning 16 hour charge, but can last a full 33 hours if needed. I endeavor to upgrade myself, to be able to smell and eat. I am still unable to calculate a way to generate 'smell' signals for my positronic brain to read and interpret as smelling a scent.
- With all Due Respect, Ensign Marionette
In the span of 127 seconds, she had tapped out all that, and with a swish of the PADD over a wall console, the message was sent to Carl Torek's quarters for Bethan. Stepping into the transporter room, Marionette handed off the PADD before stepping onto the number 3 spot, and waited for others to do the same. With all of them on the transporter platform, the transporter cheif slid his hands up, then down on the console. ~Energize~
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Andae Blakus
Moderator ..
Commander 1C
Registered: Oct 17, 2007 22:48:27 GMT
Posts: 1,474
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Post by Andae Blakus on Mar 30, 2013 7:15:55 GMT
Blakus was exhausted, his eyes forced to focus on seismological survey figures for the last two hours. Analyses were proving unfruitful, and were still continuing. There was no sense in it. To have found nothing, no underground architecture, no hidden habitats or weapons relay systems; only a fuzzy grey mass of bedrock and planetary crust. A power source of that magnitude had to be feeding something, it couldn't just be for redundancy purposes.
At last he'd had enough. He turned away from the master console and returned to his office. He sat back, put his feet up and gazed at the wall. There was a certain beauty to the wall graphics. They seemed to organise themselves with his thoughts in mind: slowly and gracefully but with a measure of uncertainty.
"Commander Blakus, sir. Dilithium crystal chamber checks out. Situation normal. Lieutenant Milyanov reports he's en route to the transporter room. We're progressing with handover of executive duties to Tinsley."
"Copy that, Lieutenant." Blakus replied to the comm. He was sending the Russian assistant chief with the away team to the planet instead of himself. Milyanov's arguments against it - limited though they were - consisted of reminding Andae that going down to the planet meant he would get a better look at the power plants. Blakus's reply was that he wouldn't be able to get the 'big picture' of the seismological surveys. As it turned out, those surveys weren't being particularly helpful, but there were other things he could do up here. Besides, he had faith in his assistant to fill in well in his stead. And the man could do with being out of Andae's shadow for once, to show what he was able to accomplish, without the more experienced engineer constantly outshining his achievements.
There was also the fact that Blakus hadn't slept in over 60 hours. He could really do with a rest, and heading down to a potentially hostile planet didn't seem like the best idea at this juncture.
* * *
Milyanov entered the transporter room to find the rest of the team already arrayed on the pads. He apologised and took the last place. He was carrying a rather boxy pack of equipment, which included a set of pattern enhancers, in the event that they found themselves in a tight spot with no clear way out. Although - as they were all aware - the only possible beam-out locales were at the Proximian custom centres and security checkpoints.
"Ready," Milyanov acknowledged, checking his equipment a final time. He steeled himself, feeling trepidation at leading the engineering section of the away team for the first time, the first he hoped of many.
They beamed in very close to the custom centre which was positioned in an archway. The arch seemed to cut off this district of the conurbation from the next; the customs centre was located in between the two, reminding Milyanov of Maxwell's Demon, from the physicist's thought experiment. A gaggle of local citizens and interstellar travellers were gathered in front of the arch, forming a haphazard queue. Local enforcers were pushing them in line.
Milyanov stepped away from the rest of the away team, brandishing his tricorder and scanning the centre surreptitiously. It was too crowded in this square for anyone to notice, or so he hoped.
"Captain. 35 Proximian security personnel are inside that centre." Milyanov snapped his tricorder shut, regarding the arch ahead as the rest of team caught up. "We wouldn't stand a chance if we wanted to get through unnoticed. I imagine they'll take my tricorder. Need some way of ditching it and picking it up later."
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Calli Valente
Starfleet Intelligence
"Don't get in my way."
Registered: Aug 4, 2010 21:19:10 GMT
Posts: 539
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Post by Calli Valente on Mar 30, 2013 10:43:05 GMT
"We wouldn't stand a chance if we wanted to get through unnoticed. I imagine they'll take my tricorder ....." Milyanov was saying as the attendant spoke:
"Move forward." he said, motioning toward the arch ... Without any means of concealing his equipment, Milyanov followed the others through. They were ushered towards a large platform, almost thirty meters in diameter, and as they waited their turn a comotion broke out close-by ...
A man was being approached by two of the Proximian Security personnel, shouting something they didn't catch, the man suddenly pulled a weapon from under his jacket. Calli wondered why the Security Officers seemed unconcerned, her answer wasn't long in coming ...
The man suddenly ran toward one of the arches allowing access to the city itself, but as he passed through there was a flash of light and the man vanished from sight. The two Security Officers casually returned to their positions. A tannoy announcement proclaimed 'Vessel Decommissioned' as Watson's Comm badge chirped:
=^= Blakus to Captain =^=
=^= Go ahead Commander =^= Alex answered, still trying to get his head around what had just happened.
=^= Sir .. We were running routine scans on the vessels in orbit when one of those orbital defense systems powered up and fired on a small ship .. All that's left are the atoms .. It was unmanned thankfully .. The thing has apparently gone back to sleep now =^=
=^= Understood .. I have a feeling the owner no longer needed it .. Keep a lock on us if you can .. I will contact you on the hour as arranged .. Watson out =^=
He closed the Comm before anything else could be said. He didn't want anyone listening in if it was at all possible.
"I dd say we had 'very' strict regulations Captain." They turned to see Coordinator Freem, flanked by two more of the ever-impassive Security Officers, "Now .... If you would kindly step up on to the scanner, we'll detain you no longer than necessary ...."
Calli glanced at the bulky hold-all Milyanov had slung over his shoulder, then stepped onto the platform. The rest followed suit, all watching the smiling Freem ... She 'felt' the scan begin, then heard Lieutenant Milyanov gasp. His bag, containing the tricorder, pattern enhancers, and who-knows what else the Engineer and Blakus had felt they needed, vanished from sight ... Freem nodded and instructed her personnel to allow the Raven crew access to the city itself. Without further explanation of what had occurred, she walked away. Calli realized the Proximian's were adept at what they deemed necessary, and wondered at the simplicity of their system ... You simply have no option but to comply with the regulations ... The alternative is, unhealthy, to say the least !
The customs Officer motioned them off the platform and smiled:
"Welcome to Proximia Prime. The city is your's to explore at your leisure. Your Bio-metric filters have been implanted, please be aware, any and all attempts to leave the surface from any other location will be dealt with, most, severely."
Alex, Calli, T'Brel, Aeryn, Marionette, and Milyanov went through the arch into bright sunlight. The city spread out before them, towers reaching upwards over five hundred levels alongside single and multi-level buildings ...
"Let's go find our lodgings." Alex ordered, looking at the Engineering Lieutenant, who for all the world looked as if he had just misplaced his new puppy.
"According to this, we've been assigned quarters at the Alberja ..." Calli said, reading their entry papers, shrugging, "Most be one of their hotels maybe." She approached one of the mag-lev transports stationed outside and asked directions. Waving for the group to join her they climbed into the open top vehicle and sped away from the Customs Center. The man halted outside a massive needle-shaped structure, informing them that this was their destination ...... Fifteen minutes later, they were on the two hundred and thirty fifth floor and in their rooms. After leaving their bags everyone joined the Captain:
"Well, this is comfy." T'Brel said, looking down on the city as Calli activated the screen on the wall:
"This place is bigger than I thought." she said, looking at the sprawling vista of the main city of Proxima Prime, "Hmmm .... 'Needle in a Haystack' springs to mind." ..........
< Tag : All >
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Andae Blakus
Moderator ..
Commander 1C
Registered: Oct 17, 2007 22:48:27 GMT
Posts: 1,474
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Post by Andae Blakus on Apr 4, 2013 5:39:33 GMT
The away team's quarters were some of the most luxurious available in the Alberja. Five interconnected suites with kingsize-equivalent beds and high-class decor, complete with panoramic views across the Proximians' chief conurbation.
Milyanov was sprawled back in a comfort chair. "I could get used to this," he commented, pushing himself further into the enveloping mass.
It seemed the Proximians treated their offworld guests well, even if they were a little intrusive, like an overattentive waiter. The engineer felt for the biometric filter, inserted just below his skin to prevent random beam out. The idea disturbed him, that the away team were virtual prisoners here, prisoners given plush residences in which to lark about.
"I'd rather we didn't settle in so quickly, Lieutenant," one of the team strode stone-faced towards the window and peered down at the silvery metropolis.
Milyanov shrugged his shoulders. A smile touched his lips as he sipped at the beverage given to him in reception.
"We should start soon, before nightfall," the same officer said, "We don't know what this place gets like after dark."
"I can't imagine there'll be too much trouble. Does it seem like the type for civil disturbances to you?" the Russian looked over the back of his chair towards the windows, "If anything it's like a police state." Admittedly, a police state where most of the people lived in luxury, he thought. It wouldn't do to get too drawn into this, to allow themselves to be paraded around like zoo creatures.
"See if you can find a public database," Watson ordered Calli, who stood at the screen. "Try to trace a Doctor von Anhk. Where he might have been staying. Where he did his research."
"I'll peruse the information channels," Milyanov said, placing his glass of champagne-like liquor on the 'coffee table' before him, "Perhaps he's been in the news recently."
Watson was about to respond when the door to the apartment rolled back. In came a hotel clerk, dressed in a decidedly gaudy red suit, with a trolley of complementary snacks - Proximian meats and other delectables, and more of that Champagne-like fluid.
"How are you settling in?" she smiled disarmingly, and started handing out the drinks one by one, leaving another twenty or so on the trolley. She then pushed the trolley to the corner of the room and left it there. Milyanov nodded his thanks and placed the fresh glass on the coffee table.
The clerk then proceeded to dash around each of the interconnecting suites, spot cleaning, making sure everything was ready for use, and wasting everyone's time. "How's that?" she came back still smiling, standing before Watson.
"That's perfect." The Captain was unamused but was hiding it well. He ushered the clerk to the door, subtly but with a well-practised firmness.
Milyanov peered at his personal chronometer, shaking it slightly and rubbing his eyes to clear possible blurriness. There were a few muffled squeaks as Watson virtually had to force the poor clerk out the door. It rolled back into place, and the CO rounded on them with a look of mild outrage.
"I'd recommend we sweep the apartment for bugs." Peers warned, quite wisely. They agreed and began a search, but turned up nothing.
Milyanov regarded the suite of quarters, glancing about warily. The attendant's visit had been exceedingly odd. There had to be some reason for it other than refuelling them and giving the suite a spring clean.
<Tag Watson, Valenti, All>
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Andae Blakus
Moderator ..
Commander 1C
Registered: Oct 17, 2007 22:48:27 GMT
Posts: 1,474
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Post by Andae Blakus on Apr 6, 2013 0:55:19 GMT
Blakus left engineering under a cloud. As on the last mission, he now found himself in the unenviable position of being the highest ranked officer on board, and as such had to take the mantle of temporary command. He'd decided he would split his duties between the bridge and engineering, leaving Wedlerson in charge whilst the CEO was below deck.
Commander Deakin from Starfleet Academy would disapprove. The command training classes the lecturer had ran inculcated in Blakus the worry he had no command potential. Indeed from Andae's point of view, it seemed Deakin had tried to drive the idea into him forcibly, seed in his mind the thought that there was no possibility he could be more than an engineer, a good line officer. He'd already proven the lecturer wrong, of course, having served as the Raven's first officer for two years, but the nucleus of the doubt still remained to him, pushing an omnipresent reminder into his thoughts now and then.
The bridge was quiet, almost apprehensive. There'd been too many occasions recently when an away team had been deployed with no immediate means of bringing them up again. A landing party was once more going into the unknown. "Commander Wedlerson, anything more on the surveys?" Blakus took the engineering console.
"Just more bedrock, sir," Wedlerson replied, seeming frustrated and rightly so. It was nonsensical for a race to build a vast network of high-output power plants that apparently served no function. Wedlerson, his officers and some in the science department had estimated that all the residential and commercial buildings, the infrastructure, and utilities etc took up about 4% of the planet's theoretical maximum output. Either the Proximians were preposterously neurotic about their power requirements or something else was afoot.
"Any sign of that immigration vessel, or anything to indicate they know about the marine chief?" Blakus studied his console intently. He'd mapped the world of Proxima Oralix as a wireframe sphere, with graphics highlighting the internal inconsistencies they had been able to find.
"Negative. It seems they landed on the dark side. Nothing to show they're suspicious of us at this stage, sir."
"Very well... Helm, keep us an appreciable distance away from that shoal out there." The viewscreen showed an image of the other visiting ships gathered together in orbit, seeming like silver fish as they reflected the light of the Oralix star. "We want to avoid collateral damage in case the Proximians decide to take out another one, for whatever reason."
"Aye, sir," the fill-in helm officer replied. Marionette was below on the surface, which Blakus was frustrated about. He'd really wanted some more time to study those memory engrams.
Their proximity to the Proximian world had them all on edge. Training orbital defence systems on the flotilla of visiting ships was hardly the most receptive action the inhabitants could take. Still, the Raven had little choice where it sailed; hunted by the Cordovin ruling council; hounded by Starfleet who probably still saw the grand vessel as a rogue and gone AWOL; and preyed upon by Kamat, wherever the ghostly rebel had stolen himself to in the greater cosmos.
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Calli Valente
Starfleet Intelligence
"Don't get in my way."
Registered: Aug 4, 2010 21:19:10 GMT
Posts: 539
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Post by Calli Valente on Apr 7, 2013 0:25:45 GMT
OOC: Sorry for the large post ...
IC:
The Captain was telling Marionette that her not being assigned a suite wasn't a problem, she could simply bunk with Major Tavik ... He was more concerned with the fact that everything they had come down with had now been taken from them.
Calli had been searching through the city directory in search of Doctor von Anhk when a light indicating an incoming communication began to flash. She tapped 'Accept' and was surprised to find herself looking at Commander Blakus ...
After querying why the Comm had come to the room, and Calli explaining that their Comm badges had been 'confiscated' on arrival, he informed the Captain that numerous vessels had been destroyed over the last few hours. He also recounted the fact that they had narrowly missed being hit in the cross-fire. He had moved the Raven to a higher, less congested, orbit. Alex told him to proceed as he saw fit, and he would contact the ship at the designated time, then closed the Comm:
"Calli, get on that thing and see if you can contact that Freem woman. I have a question or two for her." she began a search but the 'incoming call' tab lit once more. Shrugging, she hit 'Accept' ...
"Coordinator Freem ... How convenient." Calli said, looking over her shoulder at the Captain, "We were just about to contact you ourselves."
"Coordinator ....." the Captain said, stepping in front of the screen, "I've just had a rather disturbing report from my Second Officer. Apparently, your defense system is seemingly taking shots at random vessels in orbit. Eight have been destroyed in the last couple of hours."
"A clean-up of orbital debris only Captain Watson. I assure you your vessel was in no danger whatsoever." Freem said, that sickly grin suddenly appearing.
"At least 'ONE' of those vessels was manned when fired upon Coordinator. I hardly call that debris ....."
"It is of no concern of yours how we deal with 'issues' be those manned or unmanned." Freem said, her expression suddenly hardening, "As for the scout ship that was destroyed off your vessels' port quarter ..... The occupant was in collusion with the man 'retired' in the Customs Hall earlier today. He was asked to surrender his vessel but unfortunately, chose to run. We are not in the habit of shooting down everything that enters our orbit Captain ... Now, I have pressing matters to attend to, I hope you enjoy your stay in our city, and please rest easy, there will be no more 'cross-fire' for your Engineer to worry about."
"I am not sure tha ......" Alex began, but Freem had already closed the link and he was talking to a blank screen.
"Geez !" T'Brel said, shaking his head.
"Anything on Anhk Calli ?" Alex said, hiding his annoyance at Freem.
"Surprisingly, there are over two 'hundred' registered Doctors, both Medical, and attached to research in one form or another, in residence, and that is in 'this' city alone ! ... It's possible Anhk is using an alias, which would be one hell of a trick given the Proximian's thoroughness ... Unless ..."
"Unless they are aware of 'who' Anhk is, and are allowing him to continue his work here. Which would mean they may be well aware of El-Kamat too !" Aeryn said from the window.
"Does anyone think it more than, what is the Human term, 'Coincidence' that Coordinator Freem contacted us, moments after the Captain asked Commander Valenti to contact her ?" Marionette asked.
"They're monitoring our communications." Aeryn said simply.
"I could try to jury-rig something that will give us a little privacy Captain ?" Milyanov said.
< tag : Milyanov >
"From what we've seen thus far ..." Calli said, deep in thought, "While they are bordering on the fanatical regarding coming and going, they seem totally friendly once you have passed into the city itself, almost complacent maybe, but I seriously doubt it. I can't see them monitoring every conversation, every ship to surface Comm, it would be a logistical nightmare. But a chosen few, now that is doable !"
"We're supposed to be here as tourists right." Aeryn said, "So I'm assuming we can't simply 'ask' where we can find a mad Doctor who's assisting a megalomaniac hell-bent on destroying the universe ?"
"Your point Major ?" Alex asked.
"We draw him out ... Didn't I read in his profile data that he played chess ?"
"CHESS !!! ... THAT'S IT." Calli said, pointing at the large screen, and the rolling advertisements, announcements, et cetera, scrolling down the right side, "Anhk is a Grand-Master at chess, not the current version, the twentieth century one ! ... He is reputed to own the Hollinder Diamond set, but has been trying to purchace the Carolingi XIV chess set."
"He in fact, owns two of the most unique chess sets ever fabricated." Marionette confirmed.
"Well, short of knocking on every Medical Facility door and asking for the Doc, I think it's worth the try." Aeryn said, shrugging.
"Hell ..." Alex said, raising his arms in submission, "We could post an inquiry on there, maybe he'll take the bait." he said, dropping into one of the chairs ..........
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Marionette
Commander
Dr. Soong's penchant for whimsical names seems to have no end.
Registered: Mar 2, 2012 3:26:33 GMT
Posts: 285
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Post by Marionette on Apr 13, 2013 6:35:05 GMT
Stepping onto the platform, Marionette was promptly scanned, and the technician agents console made a chirping sound. The proximan manning the console annoyingly looked up at her. Turning to one of the other away team members, he spoke officiously "Im afraid im going to have to have you fill out this form for class-3 volatile technology items, and im also going to have to verify that this is installed into your robot." he said as some other small tracking device was replicated on the small archway that was his console. Handing both the curvy proximan PADD and the transponder to the next-nearest person wearing a starfleet uniform, the customs agent boredly made a hand gesture that was indicative of -hurry it up now, i don't have all day-After the e-paperwork was finished, Marionette rolled up a sleeve and opened a panel in her forearm, inserted the transponder into a socket, and then otherwise reversed the process. The technician agent's console beeped, confirming that the filter/transponder was indeed working and online. The customs Officer motioned them off the platform and smiled: "Welcome to Proximia Prime. The city is your's to explore at your leisure. Your Bio-metric filters have been implanted, please be aware, any and all attempts to leave the surface from any other location will be dealt with, most, severely." Alex, Calli, T'Brel, Aeryn, Marionette, and Milyanov went through the arch into bright sunlight. The city spread out before them, towers reaching upwards over five hundred levels alongside single and multi-level buildings .... Making their way to the Alberja and getting settled in, it wasn't lost on the away team that there were 5 suites, for an away team of 6. Apparently, according to Proximan law, Marionette was counted as property rather than a person. The only one who seemed to be immune from the clerk-in-red's insistent offerings was Marionette, who was largely ignored by her. After the clerk was sussed out the door, Marionette walked in, and in classic fashion for her, stated the obvious "Proximan culture is decidedly lacking in universal humane rights.""Don't worry Marionette, we wont be staying here all that long." - = - = - = - = - Meanwhile, up in orbit, there was afew more demonstrations of the proximan orbital defense systems as it seems that a random ship was rather neatly disintegrated every 3 to 8 hours. The Raven nearly had a close call when a nimble little freighter made a mad zig-zag dash attempted run for it, crossing the Raven's path in a hot hurry - only to be taken out in a quadruple whammy by 4 different orbital units, and was completely vaporized into cosmic dust particles. The lesson of that little event seemed to be You can run for abit, if you're fast enough, but you cannot hide.- = - = - = - = - the conversation then swung to how to draw Anhk out of hiding, and the Good Doctor's fondness for Chess..... Not tri-dimensional chess, which had risen to ubiquitous popularity since kirk's time, but actual mid-20th century chess. "He in fact, owns two of the most unique chess sets ever fabricated." Marionette confirmed. Apparently, none of the others knew the rules to such an antiquated game. Marionette then spoke again "I have downloaded myself with the rules and basic maneuvers of many chess variants and other strategic games. There was a brief resurrection of interest in 20th century games during my tenure at Starfleet Academy, such as chess, Liar's Dice, and something called 'dungeons and dragons', which is apparently quite involved."
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Carl Torek
Command Staff ..
Site Executive Officer Ranks Officer
Fleet Admiral
UTRINQUE PARATUS
Registered: Jun 17, 2006 22:34:35 GMT
Posts: 6,197
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Post by Carl Torek on Apr 15, 2013 17:48:31 GMT
"..... avoid collateral damage in case the Proximians decide to take out another one, for whatever reason." Commander Blakus was saying as Carl stepped from the turbo-lift.
"Aye, sir," the duty Helm Officer replied.
Carl walked around the Bridge until he was in front on the Command area:
"May I ?"
Andae grinned, almost tempted to say 'No' but he just nodded as Carl sat in the Exec's seat:
"You're moving us to a higher orbit." he commented, then nodded, agreeing with the Second Officers' reasoning, "I'm guessing you a little frustrated at being left up here while the others go after El-Kamat."
"Actually, no ..." Andae replied, watching the planet slowly rotate below them, "I requested to remain aboard, I've sent Lieutenant Milyanov with the away team. The experience will do him good."
Carl leaned forward, to make his next comments more private:
"I'm worried what all this is doing to the crew Andae." he said, pausing before continuing, "We've served together for a long time and I value your opinion. If El-Kamat manages to get off the surface 'and' makes it to this damn weapon of his, all this effort will be for nothing ... I think it's beginning to take it's toll on Alex too. He's seemed a little withdrawn in my opinion. I know he will do his job, and is one hundred percent committed, hell, maybe it's just me. Being stuck up here without any 'real' authority, having to make sure I step back."
< tag : Andae >
"Sir." the duty Helm Officer said, "Given our distance from the surface, and our increased orbit duration, may I suggest a geo-stationary orbit. It will keep us above the away team."
"Go ahead Ensign." Andae said.
Carl watched the planet below slowly decrease her rotational velocity in relation to the Raven until the ship seemed to be hung in space over the largest city, and the away team.
"Listen, you can't sit on the Bridge the whole time they are down there." he said, looking at his friend, "Why not join the girls and me for some supper, I'm sure they would love to see you."
Carl got up and headed toward the turbo-lift ..........
< tag : Andae > < tag : Away Team >
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Andae Blakus
Moderator ..
Commander 1C
Registered: Oct 17, 2007 22:48:27 GMT
Posts: 1,474
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Post by Andae Blakus on Apr 15, 2013 23:50:17 GMT
"What are you suggesting, sir?" Andae struck his command officer an odd, but comprehending glance. "You want to beam down."
Carl's expression gave nothing away, but Andae had the suspicion that the half-Vulcan was frustrated at the lack of control. He'd said as much; it didn't take a great amount of intuition. "I can't allow that, sir. Nor can I allow myself to become involved. I have Milyanov down there. Barring a disaster, I won't go stepping on his toes, nor will I leave the ship with a lack of senior officers."
Andae turned back to the viewscreen, watching the stars wheel as the Raven pitched on its axis and burned for a higher orbit. He understood Carl's frustration. He'd feel the same if he'd had to surrender a command, and now be in the position of allowing his crew to lead him away from his position in Starfleet. Then again, they'd broken just about every rule of protocol in this situation, what was one more in allowing the Commodore his ship back?
The CEO acknowledged as the helmsman suggested moving to a geostationary orbit. He hoped the Proximians didn't get suspicious at the Raven's tight tracking of their away team, just as Carl made his final remarks and departed.
"I'd love to join you for dinner, Commodore. Let's say three hours?" As the turbolift doors slid shut, and Andae turned back to the viewscreen, the helmsman frowned at something on his console, a distant reading, trailing in from several lightyears out.
* * *
In that short time, what could be construed as a miniature disaster took place in engineering. The antimatter injector had destabilised, suddenly emitting forty times the number of anti-deuterium particles from the nozzle.
Assistant Chief Tinsley was in a mild state of panic. He ran around the dilithium chamber. "This shouldn't be possible! Darwin. Get down there now!"
"Doing so, sir." Darwin's distant voice came back, frustrated at his Chief's insistence. He was climbing the ladder, adjacent to the core, down to the antimatter injector.
Tinsley watched the dilithium chamber; it glowed, brighter than was possible. Any more and the power flow from the core to the plasma conduits - flowing intravenously throughout the ship - would start to cause ship systems to short out. And if it increased beyond what the matter injector could take, there wouldn't be much of a ship left. A forceful clank rose through the magnetic constrictor system; Ensign Darwin had accessed the antimatter manifold. "It's a problem with the fusion preburner, sir. You're right. This is impossible..."
* * *
Andae was finishing his main course. Delicately, he placed his fork on the plate. He didn't have a particular fondness for lamb, but out of politeness he'd accepted Carl's offer for main course. The Commodore's girls seemed to have no problem with it, due perhaps to their smaller portions. He'd always had a distant relationship with children. Having no partner of his own, he'd never had a chance to propagate his genes.
Carl sat opposite, with the two girls to the left and right. Then the quarters lights flickered, an electric groan passing through the place. The lighting soon restored itself, leaving blinking and worried officers and slightly bemused children looking at each other. "You get power failures around these parts?" Andae asked.
There were no further incidents, so Blakus refrained from calling the bridge to discover the problem. Instead, the conversation passed to more agreeable matters. "I can't remember the last time we did this," Andae said, instantly feeling the comment to be somewhat trite. He believed it hadn't been since he was XO, when the command team had a customary meal together, joined occasionally by Will Jamison.
"You say you're worried about Alex," he said suddenly. "I wonder..."
Carl put his cutlery down. "What, Andae?"
"It might be something to do with what happened on Cordovin IV. If he's feeling jaded about what happened with the essences... Then I can understand. I've had similar problems. So far I've managed to confine them to my dreams, which have grown steadily worse by the way. But if he's having such issues, and they're breaking out of his dreams, we could have a problem. The dreams seem to have a hallucinatory power, and go far beyond what we experienced on Cordovin IV."
<Tag Carl, Alex, everyone>
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Alex Watson
Commander 1C
All that glitters has a high refractive index.
Registered: Apr 10, 2011 14:30:46 GMT
Posts: 102
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Post by Alex Watson on Apr 16, 2013 21:54:59 GMT
This was wrong. This was so, so wrong on so many different levels. The Proximian authoritarianism, the level of their technology in relation to the age of their species, the paranoia that seemed to grip them at the thought of any problems or interference whatsoever. Alex had made a call earlier to the hotel reception to request whatever the local equivalent of room-service was so that the away team could have supper together. He'd also made a call to Freem, asking what time they would be able to contact back to the Raven. Her reply had been so curt it had given her away. There would be no further contact, she said, and any attempt to establish a connection would result in “penalties”. Alex was seized by the horrible feeling, almost a terrible certainty, that they had no intention of letting anyone leave the system alive.
He'd been stripped of his tech, even his small, concealed instruments from his days as a science officer, and he would have bet parts of his anatomy that every single word that he and everyone else said was being listened to and being carefully monitored. Their only chance to communicate freely lay in code, but in a kind of code that the Proximians, with their ignorance of earth culture, might not understand. He only prayed that his crew would realise what he was doing, and would have the awareness of culture to understand what he was saying.
They sat down, beginning to enjoy what could only be described as a banquet that had been provided by the hotel management. Alex leaned forwards, giving the table a meaningful look and speaking in his old, out-dated cockney accent that he hadn't used in nearly a year and a half.
“Listen me old chinas, these lemons aren't very creamed rice. We're gonna have to play it bright and breezy. I'd John my cobblers that something's not Isle of Wight about this. We're butchering for this old Julius, and I hope that it all turns out just Calvin.”
(Translation: Listen, friends, these people aren't very nice. We're going to have to take it easy. I'd bet my arse that something's not right here. We're looking for this old guy, and I hope that turns out fine.)
The faces around him looked initially surprised, but comprehension began to dawn one by one, and they leaned in to listen.
<Tag Away Team>
---
As Alex lay on his bed he felt a certain sense of satisfaction. It had worked. Marionette, whose software had recognised what Alex was saying instantly, had been able to communicate silently to the rest of the crew the parts that they had not understood. If they were being watched, as well as listened to, they might be rumbled, but that was a risk that he was going to have to take.
He only prayed that they'd find the doctor, talk to him, find out what they wanted to know and leave the planet safely and in peace. His was a last reserve backup contingency, only to be used in the utmost end of need.
Alex couldn't help feeling that his plan was almost insane, but it was the only way that he could think of of moving around anywhere even remotely undetected or undetectable.
If things didn't go well, everyone was going to have to die.
Well, not really die, but Alex would be able to use his scientific knowledge to create a neurotoxin from various foods that would create a temporary paralysis almost indistinguishable from death. He was counting on a number of things – that the Proximian efficiency would mean that they were transferred to the morgue within a couple of hours, that they were left unattended in the morgue pending examination, and that the Proximians didn't simply beam them back to the Raven or incinerate them on the spot. There was a lot of “if” coming from the plan, but it was the best one they had. Marionette would rig herself for total shut-down with a reboot time of several hours, no doubt they would want to keep the bodies, the evidence, together. Once she was back online, she would be able to administer the antidote to the neurotoxin and get the rest of the crew back to consciousness.
From there, they would steal clothes that would conceal their faces and go on the run into the under-city, the slums, the areas on the outskirts of civilisation that were beyond the all-seeing eye of Freem and her cronies. There, they might be able to make contact with the Raven, or find out more about what the hell was going on on the planet itself – Andae's last transmission had mentioned that the power-plants that they were using were generating massive amounts more energy than the population could use in their cities, but they were unable to find anything with their scans. Something was worth investigating down here on the surface.
It was a grim prospect, and Alex fervently hoped that it was a plan that would never, ever see fruition – he hoped that he was wrong about Freem's intentions, about the Proximian people, about everything.
He didn't like the idea of running away, and he dreaded the reaction of the crew to finding out about their “death” - that was if Freem even told them about it at all. The Raven could leave the system, and with no way of contacting either it or Starfleet, Alex and his companions would be utterly marooned. He tried to block out the negative thoughts as he dropped to sleep, the darkness enveloping. He had a big day tomorrow.
<Tag Away Team, All>
---
<100,095 years ago>
“This is the third damned scout-ship we've lost in as many days. What the hell is going on over in that sector?” Commander Drandar demanded.
“Unknown, sir. We've done several sweeps but found nothing. It's as if they just...disappeared,” replied a young soldier.
“Pah, don't be ridiculous! Three space ships do not just disappear. They must have been attacked, but there are no hostile groups active in that area. It's one of the few peaceful fringes that we have.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Inform the Celestial Parliament, I want approval to investigate with a full battle-group. This needs to be sorted now.”
“Yes, commander.”
<Three months later>
“It looks like one of ours, sir. One of the scout ships.”
“That's impossible, it would be sending out a signal. Magnify the image.”
The grainy resolution slowly resolved into focus, making Drandar gasp.
“It is, it's the GSFV Zennai! We've found them.”
“Sir, the ship has power. That means that...”
“They...they weren't stranded. They...that's impossible!”
“Unless they were raided and hijacked by pirates, sir.”
“Yes, yes that must be it! My old friend would never betray the empire.”
Drandar stood by the airlock as the much larger cruiser that he captained clamped onto the stranded scout-ship. They had made no hails, responded to no messages and made no alteration to their course. It was like they were a ghost ship. The commander was impatient, he wanted to make sure that his old friend, Commander Tranray, was alright.
The airlock slowly opened, and there was a shadowy figure standing in the de-contaminant mist. It was hunched over and motionless, like a statue.
“Tranray? Tranray is that you?” Drandar called out, taking a few steps forward.
The figure turned its face to the commander, and the cruiser's captain smiled warmly.
“Tranray, you gave me such a fright, we thought...wait...what's...what's the matter with you?”
The figure had begun to move slowly towards Drandar, shuffling along like a zombie. It raised its head to stare at Drandar, and opened its eyes. Bright red light shone from the sockets.
“What in the name of...wait..what are you doing? NO!”
The figure raised its arm, firing the cannon it held and vaporising the commander. Pandemonium ensued, weapons were fired, but the thing seemed invulnerable. It opened its mouth, twisted and contorted, and let loose a howl that sounded halfway between an organic scream and a burst of machine code. More of the creatures began making their way out of the ship.
The whole process took less than two minutes, and then the cruiser's guns were turned upon the other ships in the group. A vast explosion lit the void...
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Andae Blakus
Moderator ..
Commander 1C
Registered: Oct 17, 2007 22:48:27 GMT
Posts: 1,474
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Post by Andae Blakus on Apr 17, 2013 2:14:33 GMT
Milyanov exited the rest room on the 221st floor of the Albjera. He entered the subsidiary reception just down the hall and approached the desk clerk. It was another woman. Not a problem in itself of course, but where were the males' gender on this world? He briefly considering asking this question of the desk clerk, but thought better of it, given her unapproachable demeanour.
"Electronic key for suite 235-E, please," he requested, placing his credentials on the desk. Security was tight in this place. During the time the clerk took to process his key, he made a surreptitious survey of the surveillance arrangements. He'd taken an extra tactical training course at the academy, in preparation of seconding himself to that position as anothercareer choice.
Four surveillance cameras, seven possibilites - it was hard to tell with these... they were little more than grey cubes protruding from the ceiling... could easily just have been inert light fixings - and four security staff, matching each obvious camera, so that each of the eight exits in this octagonal reception were covered.
No possible way out here... Milyanov accepted. T'Brel was currently checking out the equivalent on 233rd floor - the Proximians' mathematics worked in base 12 - receptions were situated at intervals of 12 floors in the skyscraping chrome-faceted Alberja. They'd decided to access areas of the hotel that'd been designated strictly off-limits.
The clerk handed his electronic key to him with a smile. It may have been the Russian's imagination, but she seemed rather wary of his intentions. Innocently he approached the lifts, and entering, chose on a whim a different destination to that which had been planned. "Floor 1, main reception and concourse," he ordered.
It was a long way down. Various Alberjans, as well as very few offworlders, boarded the lift in the time it took to get there. To the engineer's surprise, one offworlder was a Ferengi. And more surprising, the Russian recognised him. He pursed his lips, keeping the Ferengi in the corner of his eye 'til they reached reception.
Milyanov followed the Ferengi as they both hustled through the busy main concourse of the Alberja, well aware that many secret eyes may be leering down on him, from the not-so-well-hidden surveillance ports. He caught up, grabbing the man;s shoulder, "Daimon Rrava. Remember me?" The Ferengi's eyes were a picture of dismay. "Deposed were we...?" Milyanov let it slip. "Can I offer you a drink? The Oralixotica seems to serve your kind of - "
The Russian's next experience was a tearing sensation across his cheeck; excruciating pain, skin torn from muscle. He muffled the cry as best he could; he grabbed his cheek, the blood seeping through his fingers. He watched the Ferengi retreating at speed towards the great sliding doors, down the steps to the front of the Alberja and out of sight.
"You seem like the sort who appreciates a fight. Oh, don't worry about him."
Milyanov turned bemused, and was confronted by a giant Proximian female. Big featured in every respect, her skin a light tan of sky blue. He craned his neck, "Not particularly. Well, yes, I'm known to partake in the odd scuffle..."
"Ha, come one. Let me get you a real drink. Not the weak stuff you were about to offer that fool." She grabbed his arm, and with little choice, he found himself being bodily dragged towards the Oralixotica establishment. Seedy though it was, perhaps it would yield promising results concerning von Anhk. If this was a gambler's haven...
"What do you know of the Daimon?" he shouted in her ear. They were at the bar, and it was even busier than the concourse. The establishment was moderately lit, allowing the clients ample view of the dancers, as well as the establishment owners' a clear view of the card games in progress.
"He's a trader that frequents these parts. Often after ketracel-white, for who knows what reason..." the tall lady offered. "You want something from him? You know him?" her gaze took on an odd quality.
Milyanov frowned at his offered beverage, but accepted the drink from the bartender female. Still, no sign of a male Proximian, he noted. "Vaguely. Several assignments ago, I ran into him on one of my mercenary runs. He's a tough businessman; has screwed me out of many a lucrative opportunity." Milyanov had no idea how he was making this up on the fly. He had, in almost all previous circumstances, proven useless at improvisation. Unfortunate, perhaps, now he'd met this quite magnetic but also terrifying Proximian lady. "I'm just surprised he's wound up here. Often he's after some of the stranger biogenetic research materials..."
"Well I wouldn't know. Tell me, thingy... Milyanov? Do you dance?"
Milyanov regarded his drink intently, finally pushing it away firmly. "No. I do not dance. Unless you're familiar with the Troika?" He regarded her. "Unfortunately we'll need a third participant. Female. Ahh. perhaps this young lady will do..." Milyanov breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the person he was referring to enter the sleazy establishment.
"What the tall pale girl? Are you sure, Milyanov?" The tall lady leaned into him. Too close. Clearly she was already intoxicated.
He coughed, trying to withdraw his chest from the close proximity of her own. "Yes, quite sure. She's quite my type in fact. You both are."
He quickly went off to meet Marionette at the door to the establishment. "Ensign, no time to explain. Please forgive me." He grabbed the Ensign in the typical opening dance posture of the Russian traditional folk dance of the Troika, and then with his free hand gestured for the overbearing Proximian to join. The dwarfed Milyanov blinked, trying to clear the image of what was happening from his head as they headed for the dance floor. "Ensign, we're dancing the Troika. We must imitate equines... You're aware of this form of species?"
<Tag Marionette> <Tag Unknown Proximian> OOC: Look up.. There is a purpose to this!
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Calli Valente
Starfleet Intelligence
"Don't get in my way."
Registered: Aug 4, 2010 21:19:10 GMT
Posts: 539
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Post by Calli Valente on Apr 18, 2013 22:05:43 GMT
"Hell ..." Alex said, raising his arms in submission, "We could post an inquiry on there, maybe he'll take the bait." he said, dropping into one of the chairs.
"Goodie." Calli said, sitting at the table to begin composing the inquiry.
She glanced at the Captain several times, concern on her face. He seemed to have drifted off into a deep sleep. Not unusual, he'd been under a lot of pressure over the last few weeks, with little or no rest. So maybe his body had decided this was the time to play catch-up, while he was safe with his crew .... Reading through what she had written she asked Tavik to proof read. She said it was OK, but as Calli went to 'send' the Marine grabbed her hand:
"I think this should be posted from another location Commander." she said apologetically, "Should the deceit be discovered, it would be best not to lead directly to here ?"
"Hell yes." Calli said, surprised it hadn't occurred to her. Loading her inquiry onto one of the data chips, "I'll go find somewhere suitable."
She left the rooms and entered the lift ... Dropping over two hundred floors she emerged in the spacious foyer. Inquiring where the closest media centers and sports venues were situated, she took the offered 'info-tab' and left the hotel ...
Picking the third most distant from her location, she headed off into the sunlight. Forty minutes of ensuring her route was seemingly random, saw her outside the public library. She entered and found a terminal, scrolling through the options until she found the section she needed. Putting the 'chip in the reader she double-checked her inquiry, then decided on which sections she wanted it to appear in. Satisfied, she retrieved the data-chip and left the library.
Almost an hour of casually roaming the city and she was back at the hotel:
"Has he been asleep since I left ?" she asked Aeryn.
"He's been tossing and turning, but yes, he's been asleep."
Two hours later:
The Captain had woken and had refreshed himself while the meal was brought up. as they settled into the somewhat lavish meal, Alex spoke:
"Listen me old chinas, these lemons aren't very creamed rice. We're gonna have to play it bright and breezy. I'd John my cobblers that something's not Isle of Wight about this. We're butchering for this old Julius, and I hope that it all turns out just Calvin."
As the team listened to the Captain, Calli found herself wondering what the hell the old English London accent was all about, yes, Watson was a 'Londoner' but she had never heard him use the accent before, and she wondered about what state of mind would manifest the change, she pondered the idea that it could be some unusual manifestation of the essences ?. .. Either way, is was puzzling, but they needed to make headway in locating the Doctor, and despite her reservations, Alex's idea did have merit ..........
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Marionette
Commander
Dr. Soong's penchant for whimsical names seems to have no end.
Registered: Mar 2, 2012 3:26:33 GMT
Posts: 285
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Post by Marionette on Apr 21, 2013 19:50:07 GMT
"Ensign, no time to explain. Please forgive me." He grabbed Marionette in the typical opening dance posture of the Russian traditional folk dance of the Troika, and then with his free hand gestured for the overbearing Proximian to join. Marionette said nothing, although her eyebrow visibly lofted and a spark of confusion alit in her eyes. The music then seemed to, almost as if on cue from Milyanov, drop into a 4/4 on the floor polka with sub-harmonics mixed into the drum overbeats. This then sky-lined itself into a more traditional russian polka sound, but retained the drum effects, with interspersed sub-harmonics. www.youtube.com/watch?v=giyQHA7uYPs Russian folk music for the 24th century, no doubt. "Ensign, we're dancing the Troika. We must imitate equines... You're aware of this form of species?" "Accessing...... The Troika, an ancient Russian dance involving a man and two women. Processing ....." She then followed Milyanov's lead without flaw, even going so far as to accentuate her kicks with a crisp little foot flick, which was rather hard to do in starfleet issue boots (tread pattern 3A, size 12). However, what was easy in starfleet boots, was to make the hoof-like clop-clop-clop sound, which was in tune to the music as they danced; first around on an axis, then under each others arm in turn, and then around in a circle, and then again around eachothers arm in turn, before repeating. The Proximan woman was abit slower to pick up the dance steps, but had gotten it reasonably down - right before the drums thundered back in and the tempo kicked up several notches in pace, as the music seemed to chase itself back and forth from modern to traditional polka. Milyanov looked pleasantly surprised at both the fact that the band was playing a decent Russian polka, and the pace-hike. Marionette flawlessly kept up, and seemed almost on the razors edge of breaking into an actual smile though-out the whole dance. The dance lasted about 10 minutes (exactly 11 minutes and 42 seconds), and the proximan woman was definitely having fun, now that the alcohol was most certainly thumping through her veins. The trio had gone back to the bar, where the proximan woman, who stated that her name was Kylissa, ordered drinks for the trio (Marionette didn't drink, so she just left it there.) Kylissa downed hers in one swallow, and swayed abit as a smile spammed across her face. Marionette switched her glass for Kylissa's when the latter woman wasn't looking, and whispered to Milyanov "Perhaps you should question her about any scientists fitting the description."
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Andae Blakus
Moderator ..
Commander 1C
Registered: Oct 17, 2007 22:48:27 GMT
Posts: 1,474
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Post by Andae Blakus on Apr 22, 2013 0:18:04 GMT
Andae had returned to the bridge some hours ago, after his dinner with Torek and family and brushing up in his own quarters. Apart from that meal, he'd had no sort of break for the last thirty hours. Carl's advice to take a rest had been accepted, but he'd too soon let it slip from his mind, and had returned to work rather hastily.
After another hour - with the Raven, in its geostationary position, over the Proximian world's brilliantly lit night-side - Blakus had grown tired of waiting for further news. "I hope they aren't just sleeping the night away..." he muttered. He had the tactical officer hail Proxima Prime's customs centre.
The image of the immigration centre's control room materalised on the viewscreen, Coordinator Freem's face filling most of the view. "You're becoming a nuisance, Commander," she greeted. "What is it now?"
"Coordinator." Blakus inclined his head. "I do apologise, but we have a query. You keep extraordinarily precise records on your world's inhabitants, their location, their day to day activities, correct?"
Freem shifted uncomfortably. For an instant she seemed guilty, as if she'd been caught doing something she shouldn't have, but the resolve returned rapidly. "Yes. Your point, Commander? This is the way our society has worked for generations -"
"As part of a gesture of mutual trust," Blakus cut her off, leaning on the tactical rail, "Wouldn't you think it wise to disclose the information you hold on your visitors to the visiting ships in orbit? Those vessels that have committed people to the surface of your world, and given you custom?" Freem was silent, although seemed on the verge of rejecting Blakus's proposition. "We'd like a list of your current visitors. All of them. We're not asking for data on the citizens of your world. That would be a gross invasion of privacy, and wildly out of line with Starfleet procedure and principle. But a list of -"
Freem's expression turned to steel, "Out of the question." The channel cut out. But ten minutes later, they were receiving a signal.
"It's about six months out of date," Wedlerson was saying, "But it does seem to be a somewhat complete list of visitors. Patchy in places. But the list includes names from all the planet's populated regions. Starting analysis..."
"You know who to search for," Andae said, sweeping from the tactical rail towards the turbolift, intending to find out what was happening in engineering. "He may well not be here now, but we might be able to find trace of his presence half a year ago. Also when we get the next opportunity, inform the surface team of what we've acquired."
<Tag Away Team>
OOC: A Milyanov response is coming soon, not feeling inspired enough to write him at the moment. Plus it's late LOL
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Calli Valente
Starfleet Intelligence
"Don't get in my way."
Registered: Aug 4, 2010 21:19:10 GMT
Posts: 539
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Post by Calli Valente on Apr 24, 2013 21:48:43 GMT
It was getting late in the evening when Milyanov and Marionette reported in via the obviously monitored Video-Comm ... Calli was more than a little surprised when the Russian informed them, in a roundabout way, that he had bumped into a former friend. He knew not to go into detail over the 'Comm, casually, he said that he and his companion would be enjoying an evening meal before returning to their rooms.
Closing the video-Comm, Calli turned to Alex and Aeryn:
"There's a Ferengi on the planet, well, at least one that knows the Lieutenant."
"What makes you think that ?" the Marine asked.
"Milyanov mentioned the restaurant he was going to be eating at. He said it looked like the Daitey Tower .... That tower is situated in the Sacred Marketplace, on Ferenginar. He will update us once he returns, but this could put a problem in our laps ......." Calli finished.
"It's a given that this Ferengi will sell us out to the highest bidder in a Tarkazian gnat's heartbeat !" Alex said, slamming his fist against the armrest of his chair, "We'll have to make sure we stay clear of him."
"He's seen, and apparently spoken to Lieutenant Milyanov. If the Lieutenant should suddenly drop from sight it could arouse the Ferengi's suspicion." Aeryn began, walking around the room in deep thought, "If this Ferengi is a recent arrival, he's going to know all about our situation and the fact we're being hunted by at least two civilizations, and if Freem gets wind of the Ferengi, you can bet your last bar of latinum he'll be more than willing to 'sell' all he knows. which I can imagine will result in us, and the Raven, meeting with some sudden 'accident' before we can get off this ball of rock !"
"She's right .... And threatening him will just send him running." Calli admitted, looking at Alex with concern, "Captain, you OK ?"
< tag : Alex >
"So we can have Milyanov and Marionette 'befriend' our Ferengi, though from his tone, I don't think our Russian and 'Big-Ears' are going to be inviting each other to Family gatherings anytime soon. But we're not looking for a match made in heaven ... Just information !" Calli said decisively, "We need to face the fact that the, removal, of the Ferengi from this equation could be necessary."
"We're NOT murderers Commander !" Alex said, rubbing his temples as Calli returned his stare impassively. She didn't need to point out the figures, one Ferengi, against a possible loss of three hundred billion people and civilizations, should El-Kamat bring his plan to fruition. She didn't need to, because the Captain 'knew' all this !
Breaking eye contact, Calli turned to the windows and looked out on the lights of the city reflecting like facets of a diamond below her:
"It's twenty two hundred ... We should eat." she said quietly ..........
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Carl Torek
Command Staff ..
Site Executive Officer Ranks Officer
Fleet Admiral
UTRINQUE PARATUS
Registered: Jun 17, 2006 22:34:35 GMT
Posts: 6,197
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Post by Carl Torek on May 1, 2013 23:54:44 GMT
Next morning, after making sure the children would be entertained by Chloe, Carl headed off to Sick-bay for his scheduled injection to keep him hidden from any prying Freem may decide to employ. Once done, he had intended to go back to his quarters, but decided to head to 'Ten forward' ...
Sitting at one of the window seats, he could see the planet below, almost as if the ship were suspended above the blue green orb. He had ordered waffles and coffee when he entered and thanked the steward without looking up when the breakfast was placed in front of him:
"Mind if I join you Commodore ?" Carl looked up to see Captain Barton standing over him, then motioned for him to sit, "They look good." he said.
"I'm sure you didn't trace me to here so you could comment on my breakfasting habits Captain .... Something on your mind ?" Carl asked.
"Well ...... Truth be known, I'm getting a little anxious about how long this search is taking." Barton said almost apologetically, watching the seemingly motionless planet below them, "Hell, I'll never get used to just 'hanging' up here ... Anyway, as I was saying ......."
"Are you in contact with anyone outside the ship Captain ?" Carl asked suddenly.
"No, sorry Sir, but why would you even think I was keeping anyone outside the Raven informed ?" Barton said, almost hurt by the accusation, "I am in this as deep as the rest of us here Commodore. I just think we need to be facing facts at some point in the near future. For example, how would we react should the Proximian government suddenly get wind that we're effectively fugitives, being hunted by two civilizations, one of which happens to be our own ?"
Carl resisted the temptation to shrug:
I didn't ask for all this Captain !" he said, putting down his fork and leaning in to speak quietly, "You have 'NO' idea how close I was to calling a halt to this, but I trust my crew, and they obviously feel they need to rectify an injustice ... I think each of them realize their careers could be over, and more than one of them could find themselves in prison for a long long time should this go pear-shaped. Much better to do that from here, on their own terms, than fighting it out in the courts for the next three years after my execution, and my children have become orphans ... Don't you think ?"
"It's rare, in my profession, to see such loyalty Commodore." Barton said, realizing his fears had been justified, "But it still comes down to the fact that we're still no closer to this 'Doctor' or El-Kamat, and we 'KNOW' that Admiral Tetsutaro has sent ships out after us. You have people on the surface and we have no means of checking on their situation, let alone progress. Also, give the 'trigger-happy' nature of the Proximians, we'll be in no position to retrieve those on the surface and escape the defense net !"
Carl pushed his plate away from him, breakfast unfinished, and coffee now cold ... He stood and walked to the massive plexi-glass windows. Without turning, he spoke to Barton:
"It was wrong of Captain Watson to drag you into this situation, I realize that. But, I also know you had every chance to object before we made our 'escape' ...... I have no 'official' authority on the Raven at this point Captain, but i can say, that if you want to inform Freem of our subterfuge, or wish to contact Star Fleet Command, I am sure Commander Blakus will allow my request to give you whatever communications access you require."
"That won't be necessary Commodore ...." Barton said, realizing he may have misjudged the situation somewhat, "Any doubts I did have, have been swept aside. You will have my full co-operation for the duration of this, outing, regardless of the eventual outcome." he finished, standing and heading away from the table, but Carl had turned to face him:
"I appreciate the support Captain. But don't write off the Raven just yet. This is an exceptional crew." Carl said, turning back to the windows as if trying by will-power alone to see his Officers over thirty five thousand kilometers below ..........
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Andae Blakus
Moderator ..
Commander 1C
Registered: Oct 17, 2007 22:48:27 GMT
Posts: 1,474
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Post by Andae Blakus on May 2, 2013 23:35:10 GMT
Milyanov leaned on the bar, looking about casually as if he did this every night. Outside in the frigid night air a repulsor lift vehicle came rocking up to the entrance steps of this floor of the hotel. The bottom level of the city lay some hundred metres below; this was the highest the repulsor vehicles ever went.
The vehicle's engine died as it settled on the paving stones lining the entrance. Milyanov exited the hotel, descending the steps in a smart strut, the Proximian woman following close behind. They entered the back of the repulsor vehicle and the door swung shut heavily, the green-tinted windows concealing the Lieutenant and his company. Ensign Marionette came to a halt by the glass screens at the hotel exit, unblinking eyes watching the repulsor vehicle take off into the night. Its whining engine note diminished as it sped towards the Ferenginar-like structure across the other side of the forest of jewel-illuminated towers.
The Raven's Ops officer had divided up his search material by species, currently tackling the vulcan visitors (of six months ago), of which there were just two. Neither were particularly notable, other than that they were both ex-Federation citizens and criminals. He moved on to the next group: Ferengi. Blakus had come to watch, his curiosity overcoming him, such had been the length of time of the Raven had been out of contact with the away team. This group was more interesting... Twenty three Ferengi had been on the surface six months ago. This was to be expected, as Proxima Oralix attracted many visitors and opportunity for trade would be ample.
"Stop there," Blakus tapped the man on the shoulder. He narrowed his eyes. "I think I recognise that one... Fourth on the list." One of the Ferengi was awfully familiar. But Blakus had never met one, so he wasn't sure how - "Milyanov. Milyanov knows that Ferengi."
"You're sure, sir? There are probably thousands of Ferengi called Rrava."
"No, it's him. I just know," he snapped, seeing the officer's look. He wasn't sure how, but something in the personal file gave him that indication. "No guarantee he's still down there, of course..."
The atmosphere was light and airy about the 'Daiteyesque' tower. The heady spice of the night air was flowing through this district like a jet stream, lightly fluttering the banners and plant growths that hung from the eaves.
Milyanov came in from the veranda, hiding the growing boredom from his eyes. He returned to the bar, fetching a couple more drinks, and was soon joined by his companion. He passed her the drink with a smile and tried to fend her off for what must've been the tenth time in the last hour.
He scanned about cautiously as he sipped at the beverage. It was decidedly quieter in this quarter of the city, an area perhaps where the citizens and visitors were given some respite from the omnipresent urban rush. The bar/restaurant was reasonably bare, perhaps 20% full.
"Your friends are waiting for you back at the Alberja?" she inquired, leaning into him again.
"Yes," he said, neither moving in or retreating, merely maintaining his stance. "They're probably losing it, wondering where I've got myself to." The thought made him smile. He could imagine Commander Valenti's impatience for instance.
"Wouldn't you rather leave them waiting 'til morning?"
Milyanov was on guard. He didn't want to go any further with this than was necessary. But his results regarding former Daimon Rrava had been decidedly below-par up to now. "As long as I wake up in my hotel room," he said. He spent the next five minutes trying to push her away, all the time wondering if it was futile and if his goal might be better served if he just indulged her. "I'll try not to run into the Daimon again..." he said after a brief silence, "What did you say he was selling here again?"
Her face tensed in concentration, words eventually coming. "Muscle relaxant, I think...?"
Milyanov rolled his eyes as he sipped at his drink.
A placid blue haze spread hour-by-hour over the Proxima central conurbation. Repulsor craft activity was increasing, their whining bringing a shock of wakefulness to the city. Some lights were dying out while others were springing brightly into their place. On the city's ground level a craft was slinging itself in beside the Alberja.
The Alberja's main concourse was a bright if cold redoubt against the dew-filled air. Milyanov dragged himself towards the turbolift, gaining access to the away team's level. He opened the suite door and slipped inside, and waited in the darkness for the day to come up. The team woke one-by-one, and he talked to them about the night's events over breakfast and the sound of the automated cleaning bot as it went about their rooms.
"He waits 'til after the match before placing his bet. I don't know how he gets away with it." Milyanov said as he chewed on his toast. "Well, actually, if there's one thing a Ferengi knows how to do it's make a bribe."
It was a shock, and perhaps an ironic one, to learn the truth of how the Ferengi Rrava was making his money on Proxima Oralix. He gambled on the results of online gaming, mostly in the prestigious gamerooms of the planet's premier gaming agency. He probably bet on von Ahnk's matches quite often.
But he cheated. Somehow, he placed his bets after the match, and thus raked in the profits. This would disgust Milyanov, except the derision he held for it was dampened by that which he held for the wider issue. A gambling market; constructed around a gaming market where the entrants needed to gamble with their money in order to participate. It stunk of opportunism, the type that humanity had done away with in the late twenty first century.
"I suggest we sit in on a few gaming sessions today," Milyanov said, looking around the table. "We don't need to take part, we just need to observe. You can track who puts money on the contestants from within the gamerooms."
<Tag All Away Team>
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Marionette
Commander
Dr. Soong's penchant for whimsical names seems to have no end.
Registered: Mar 2, 2012 3:26:33 GMT
Posts: 285
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Post by Marionette on May 8, 2013 1:21:40 GMT
Marionette descended to street level in a large-diameter turbolift, and proceeded to walk the 12 kilometers back to the Alberja hotel-spire.
Along the way, she spied a dumpster, and upon closer inspection, saw that it had electronics trash in it; more specifically, some form of stacked computer modules, with a power adapter module.
Observing the plug, it was evident that she would have to rig up some form of adapter to be able to recharge herself tonight. Speaking of which, it had been 14 hours since her arrival on Proxima, and if she was going to spend the night, it made no sense to go without power and be shut off.
Removing the module from the computer block with her fingernails, she coiled the cord around the small box into a small loop, and continued walking.
Arriving at the Alberja, Marionette entered the room without Milyanov. "erm, Where's Milyanov?" "I believe i can safely conclude that he is attempting to mate with a proximan woman, although i do not know if he intends to gain information from that. I calculate a 78 percent chance that he will return in the morning."
= - = - =
"It's twenty two hundred ... We should eat." Valenti said quietly .... (and so they did, while Marionette washed and modified her dumpster find.)
= - = - =
Sitting in a comfy chair across the room from the outrageously luxurious bed that Major Tavik was left to, Marionette plugged the module into herself (more specifically, a socket in her left arm), and then the module's plug-cord into the wall socket, closed her eyes, and turned off for the night.
It was rather human-like to hear what sounded like soft snoring coming from her, almost like a musical buzz that faded in and out, but it was just her power converter rhythmically spooling up. One might wonder if she had modified herself to 'snore' deliberately. (someone later comments that they think its cute that Marionette sounds like she's snoring ?)
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Calli Valente
Starfleet Intelligence
"Don't get in my way."
Registered: Aug 4, 2010 21:19:10 GMT
Posts: 539
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Post by Calli Valente on May 11, 2013 17:36:56 GMT
Calli had woke early and had already eaten when the others rose. She had been thinking hard on how they could locate Anhk. she had to admit, it was obviously going to be harder than they first thought, especially with Freem seemingly watching every move they made ... Sitting at the panoramic window of the captain's suite, she watched the blue sky and hoped all their efforts were not going to be in vain. "Anhk is a Scientist ... A Medical Doctor ... Right ?" T'Brel mused, not waiting for a reply as he voiced his train of thought, So ... It's unlikely he'd be working in a manual profession, or teaching art appreciation in some academy. My guess, random as it is, would be this ... He's going to be in some research facility or other, and if not, at least attached to something along those lines. The local hospital maybe ?" "Your point Commander ?" Alex asked. "With due respect Captain." Peers began, "I think we need to step up our search. It's possi ......" Calli turned as she heard the information screen signal incoming messages. Leaving the group to listen to the Security Officer, she got up and opened the messages: ..... the Carolingi XIV has been lost for almost ..... Calli disgarded the message and moved to the next: ..... possibly could have the set, I know it was purchased by a Carx ..... She dismissed this one too, moving to the third on the list: ..... Interested in acquiring the Carolingi XIV set. I am an avid collector and as such would assume you possess full provenance for the item. If you can provide such, please reply with your intentions re this unique piece of history ... End Msg. #18473CT-58732 ... "Holy Hell !" She said, making everyone turn to look at Calli, who was re-reading the message to make sure it said exactly what she thought it did, "He's taken the bait, geez, I have to admit, it was one hell of a long shot, but I think this could be Anhk." "So way not simply replicate the set and go sell it to Anhk. We can snatch him at the sale." Aeryn said decisively. "Impossible ...." Calli said quietly, before pulling up an image of the Carolingi XIV chess set, "The pieces have been 'grown' for want of a better word, by a Scientist and chess master named Carolingi. They are bio-metallic in nature, and react to their position on the board, and the players mental state as each piece is moved. The board itself changes on the molecular level as the game progresses. Sorry, it simply can't be reproduced." "...... And I'm going to hazard a guess here that we're not likely to be able to lay our hands on the 'genuine' article in the next day or so ?" T'Brel said. Everyone looked at the Security Officer ... As 'understatements' go. His was definitely top of the list ..........
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Andae Blakus
Moderator ..
Commander 1C
Registered: Oct 17, 2007 22:48:27 GMT
Posts: 1,474
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Post by Andae Blakus on May 14, 2013 0:47:59 GMT
Milyanov half-heard the conversation as it floated through on to the balcony. He was swigging from a mug of the Proximian version of coffee, surveying the city but with his thoughts elsewhere. He was primarily occupied with the gaming rooms that lay as opportunities for surveillance. "We could attempt a forgery," he offered, having gleaned that they were discussing the chess set.
He swayed; the urge to sleep was particularly forceful as he attempted to enter back into the suite. He'd barely had an hour's sleep at the tower stolen from the skyline of Ferenginar. Having managed to acquire the necessary information from the Proximian female - and seen off her attentions - he had collapsed in one of the temporary suites for clientele that were too tired to make their way back to their hotels. But sleep had cruelly never come, at least not for longer than periods of twenty minutes, and thoughts of the next day had assailed him.
After that fitful night he'd rode a repulsor craft back to the Alberja, his tired eyes trying to focus on the newsfeed in the rear compartment of the vehicle. The crimson screen blurred as he drifted into unconsciousness, and a mysterious visitor had swept through the compartment as he'd slipped under. When he woke the craft was lurching forwards from stationary, the distant ground level swaying beneath him. Nothing seemed amiss besides the unexpected stop, so he returned his attention to the screen. A text-only report was outlining the city's power requirements and how they were well within the power plants' maximum capacity.
He sat in the same chair he had the previous day and accessed the gaming rooms, letting the computational device boot up while the others debated the Carolingi set. He slowly became enthralled by how the gaming system worked, particularly the method used to rank the competitors.
The chess division was perhaps surprisingly the most hotly contested. Third in the rankings was a maybe significant contestant using the alias 'C14'. It might have been a covert advertisement - or a way to attract advertisers. But it seemed far too easy.
C14 was currently in a match with the twenty eighth ranked contestant. Milyanov lined up to spectate, and was finally allowed in only to find C14 on the brink of defeat. The enemy rook and bishop had cornered C14's king; checkmate seemed inevitable. But from that point, Milyanov watched in astonishment as C14 began an unlikely and quite original comeback, to eventually win the game. Such a victory could not have been achieved except by a very experienced player.
C14 exited the gameroom without comment, then a short moment later in the hotel suite there was an exclamation from the other side of the room to Milyanov, as Calli received further correspondence from the contact interested in the Carolingi set. He or she wished to meet, at the city's central square by sunset.
<Tag All>
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Andae Blakus
Moderator ..
Commander 1C
Registered: Oct 17, 2007 22:48:27 GMT
Posts: 1,474
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Post by Andae Blakus on May 16, 2013 22:07:42 GMT
A wreck of a world, thought the old man, and a horrific loss of life. A matter-antimatter blast of sizeable proportions, with an approximate yield to that of an exploding frigate-sized craft. The northern hemisphere was littered with the effluvia of nuclear fallout. Of course, frigates of that age used outdated, dirty fission reactors as back up power sources. It would've fuelled the annihilation process, and caused its own mucky devastation.
Pawns though they were to El Kamat, the Zennairi had their own malevolent streak. It was good to have their refinery wiped from the world of Zennai II. This the old man told himself, but he could not really bring himself to believe it.
"You nearly died," Jorvin smirked, his sickly features looming large on the telescreen. "I see you've tried to hide your injury. Unfortunately you lack the follicles to conceal that ghastly head wound."
"You really are a wonderful person, Councillor." The old man steepled his fingers before him, pulling himself tight to the conference table. This ship was relatively intact, which was more than could be said for the other remaining ship in the flotilla. Now the one remaining engineer had tended to the crippled propulsion system, most of the damage done by the Federation vessel had been undone. Of course, they were now pursued by another Starfleet vessel, but it was an older one, and speed was on their side.
"Anyway, you have a team on the surface?" the Councillor inquired. The old man nodded slowly, painfully. "Anything left?"
"No," the old man said. "The site of a reactor has been flattened. The special ops team and the intellectual sect seem to have perished, along with our frigate. The Federation Acting Captain was probably killed in the blast. Also, we have no real evidence, but the last report from the frigate placed Commodore Torek as having boarded the vessel in the final minutes."
Jorvin seemed perplexed, but the old man knew it to be a ruse. Councillor Jorvin could only be delighted. His political ally Kamat seemed to have succeeded, even though it'd cost him a whole duranium production facility, several bargaining chips, and something else he'd done very well to conceal.
Jorvin shifted forward, his hands out of sight moving to end the comm. "You will hear from me again," he said silkily.
The old man watched the dead screen for moments, thinking of a tortured face, and glinting metal cutting into wrists, and a poor girl's face - now wiped from history in a senseless blast. He slumped slightly, feeling the weight of the years, but as soon as he started slipping forward, the comm activated again.
"Commander. We need your input." The old man perked up. It was Councillor Hapla, from one of the supposedly loyal elements of government. "There's rioting in the streets again. One of the administration's buildings have been captured and the Chief Councillor has been kidnapped. We believe the insurgents have summarily executed several state officers."
"No..." the old man's lips parted. He slammed a fist to the table, using his weight to rise from the chair. "Stand-by." He deactivated the comm. Hmph... It wouldn't do to wallow in despair. "Bridge, this is the Commander. Contact the other vessel. Inform them that we are continuing the search for El Kamat and the USS Raven. Scan for ion trails, study that long-range transport signature... We must find them."
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Calli Valente
Starfleet Intelligence
"Don't get in my way."
Registered: Aug 4, 2010 21:19:10 GMT
Posts: 539
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Post by Calli Valente on May 21, 2013 17:01:46 GMT
As Calli replied to msg #18473CT-58732 with a suggestion that they meet somewhere public to discuss the piece in question, Milyanov turned quickly: "It's too much of a coincidence ....." he was saying to himself as he replayed the last seconds of the match quickly. "You have something Lieutenant ?" Alex asked. "Sir ... As you know, I have been gradually working my way into the betting system for the chess tournament ...... I have gained enough 'prestige' as the auditors call it, to be allowed access to the main betting tables ... I've just been watching a player, know only by his anonym of 'C14' ... He was beaten up to the last few moves, when frankly, he pulled off one hell of an escape to come out the winner. It's turned the betting over." he said, excited at his deduction, "Sir ... 'C14' left the auditorium only moments before we received that inquiry ... 'C14' has to be Anhk !" "We have no data or bio-metrics on Anhk in the files, and I'm guessing Freem will be a little curious should we ask for the transport log for him." T'Brel said, scratching his head, "So even if we can get close enough to the man, we couldn't run a comparison scan for verification." "He's replied." Calli said, pointing at the screen. Msg. #18473CT-58732
We shall meet at the City Central Square at sunset. A table has been reserved at the Plas Convorce Restaurant under the name Kasperov :: Please bring requested documentation and proof of provenance. "Kasparov. Very witty !" Calli said, admiring the mans whimsical use of the name of Earth's twentieth century Grand-masters. "Why do we need to take what he needs ?" T'Brel asked, "Why not simply sit at the table, stun him into unconsciousness and bring him back here for questioning ?" "We could never be sure it's Anhk." Calli said, seeing Peers' point, "For all we know it could be anyone working for him and coming on his behalf. For all we know, Anhk could be sat at the next table from us and we wouldn't know." "Yes we would." Milyanov said, grinning broadly ... He was holding one of the information tablets used by all visitors to the planet. He turned it to face the others, and there, in glorious color, was 'C14' ... The man they now suspected of being: Doctor Eric Von Anhk ! ..........
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