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Post by Savot on Apr 15, 2017 0:31:06 GMT
[Deck 10: Communications & Sensor Dome control; Event +19 hours]
With life support at emergency levels to preserve power as a precautionary step, Commodore Savot and Lieutenant Kelbren had both worked up a literal and metaphorical sweat as they toiled away at the communication and sensor systems. Their first focus had been internal sensors, to take a catalog of all the El Salvador's damage and ensure nothing ship-threatening was in danger of taking place. Savot's jacket was unzipped as he applied an instrument to repair the final pathway inside the central comms panel that sent a shrill squawk of feedback bounding through the speakers on the entire deck; Kelbren squinting his Klingon eyes and barring teeth in irritation for the few seconds it took the vulcan captain to correct the signal refinement at which point both officers released a sigh of relief though the vulcan's was understated as usual.
Savot tapped his commbadge to test, "Savot to Engineering; can you hear me Mr. Delbridge?" His friend's voice came back without delay, =^=Sure can, boss. Just a minute; and we'll re-route command functions to the bridge. Figured it was safer to have them here until we could confer with whoever's left up there... aaaand good to go Captain, bridge is back in business, lemme patch us in together. Bridge, you've got Engineering and the Captain, status report?=^=
A young man with just a bare hint of Russian accent to his voice sounded off from the bridge, =^=Tamarov here, sirs. Karysta's running sensor diagnostics at Ops to confirm, but our initial readings indicate no catastrophic damage considering what happened. There are a number of hull breeches we can now direct repairs teams to; and there appears to have been a chemical fire in the Main Shuttlebay when the turbulence slammed 2 craft into each other and breached the tanks. However, the crewman on duty appear to have donned EVA suits and shut off environmental controls to the bay and the fire burned itself out consuming the oxygen. Life signs read steady so I imagine they've kept swapping out their O2 tanks with the spares intended for the other suits stored in the bay but we should restore life support power there as soon as possible. Captain, we've confirmed an object of significant mass traveling in proximity to us that reads large enough to be Starbase 47, but their identifying beacon's damaged if it is them. We're working on getting the main viewscreen locked onto its coordinates for visual confirmation but aren't there yet.=^=
Savot chimed in, "Thank you, Mr. Tamarov; Engineering, confirm reactivation of shuttlebay life support and coordinate repair efforts throughout the ship. Chief Zakryn has had teams deployed throughout taking tricorder readings, have them all transmit their tricorder logs to you and compare the data to what internal sensors are telling us for confirmation. I'm en route back to the bridge, Savot out." Tapping his commbadge to close the channel, Savot extended a hand to help Kelbren to his feet, nodding his appreciation of the klingon engineer's help as they parted ways to head to their respective stations.
Climbing back into the Jeffries Tubes, Savot tapped his badge anew, "Savot to Irae, casualty reports Commander?" Knowing the news was likely not ideal, but knowing also that ignorance of said news would not alter its truth...
****************************************************************************************************************** [Main Bridge: 7 minutes later]
Savot made a note on the constancy of irony as he returned through the final Jeffries tube hatch back onto the bridge just in time to hear a report from Delbridge telling the duty officer that 1/4 of the ship's turbolifts had been restored to power and their tubes confirmed free of impediment. Other lifts had sustained direct damage themselves, or their travel paths had been impacted by deformities in the metal that would have to be repaired before it would be safe to use them. Most everywhere on the ship could still be reached via turbolift, but one might have to exit one lift and walk to another to continue one's journey to its conclusion for the time being. Though he normally waved off formalities such as the "Captain on the Bridge!" declaration that accompanied his arrival, Savot acknowledged it without comment, appreciating that in times of upheaval many people took comfort in unwavering protocol and procedure. As he approached the center seat he saw Karysta manning the Operations station and Cadet Zhegras prone underneath the console making adjustments while the vulcan girl gave her feedback as the viewscreen's resolution wavered back and forth between degrees of clarity.
"Positive signal!", Karysta reported with a raised voice for Zhegras' benefit to inform her her efforts had been successful. The viewscreen image cleared and showed a distant mass traveling at the same inertia the El Salvador was and Savot furrowed his brow, "Attempt magnification", he ordered. A few moments later the image resolved into that of a severely damaged but immediately recognizable Starbase 47. Barely visible bursts of debris appeared to be trailing from the station out into open space, and following another layer of magnification from the El Sal's viewscreen, the bridge erupted in a small burst of gaps and air hissed inward through clenched teeth... The Gorn security chief Zakryn's reptilian eyes narrowed, "Ssscrape my scalesss...." and Karysta reacted in a manner proving she had not be raised under vulcan tutelage in either universe crying out in dismay, "They're getting sucked out through a hull breach!"
Savot shook his head even as he stood beside his chair taking readings on the arm console, "Negative... the ejections are interrupted at regular intervals, and there is insufficient outward distance away from the station traveled by the bodies to support violent decompression. I surmise the beings in question are already deceased, and unfortunately being ejected because the remaining numbers of injured and dead aboard the starbase necessitate this course of action. Lieutenant Tamarov, take the helm and use lateral thrusters only to bring us within 5,000 kilometers of the station's starboard side, allow our forward momentum to continue as our engine status is not guaranteed and I do not wish to risk getting separated from the station. Miss Karysta, perform an intensive scan of Starbase 47's interior."
Savot's mirror-daughter's hands worked across the console's controls until she shook her head moments later, "I can't get accurate readings. Some of the station's batteries have sustained damage that's flooded certain sections with energy and radiation leakage that scatters our sensor beams."
Savot walked up to her at Ops, clasping his hands behind him as he spoke, "Pull up a list of the vessels that were within the Starbase at the time of our departure; determine if any were bereft of crew during repair or refit operations. We can't risk it with any ship still manned, as the action might hinder the repair efforts of a given crew at a critical phase, but if there's an unmanned vessel within, we can call up her command codes in the Starfleet database and attempt to remotely access her systems, using that vessel's sensors to scan Starbase 47 from inside it which might cut through the interference hindering us. Our first priority is ensuring no vessels within the starbase are at risk of engine breach, then the stability of the station itself. Chief Zakryn, send someone to meet with an engineering technician in Main Shuttlebay and ascertain the status of each craft; we may need to utilize any that are spaceworthy to provide aid to Starbase 47, proceed immediately."
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Deis Irae
Commander
Savot: "Doctor, put down the hypospray." Deis: "No way pointy, this ship's mine!" [2003]
Registered: Sept 27, 2013 3:30:12 GMT
Posts: 116
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Post by Deis Irae on Apr 16, 2017 1:55:09 GMT
=/\=Savot to Irae, casualty reports Commander?=/\=
::Deis didnt even look up from the neural regeneration she was working on in a crewmans leg. The sciatic nerve is always tricky...get it wrong and you have a man that limps on and off pretty much forever. You dont play around with nerves like this. At least it wasnt the huge one in the thoracic cavity. This young man, an ensign, nearly had his leg snapped off by one of the sliding door panels on the breached deck. He was incredibly lucky. The drop in pressure stemmed bleeding and the lowered temperature put him in a hard and dirty near stasis while the door panel itsself had pinned him by that leg into the bulkhead...and kept him from being sucked out.:: Comm...Doc..."Irae"...the Captain? ::That spoken by one of her tired looking nurses as Deis had completely ignored the comm. There was already a scowl of concentration on the little commander doctors face, and it only darkens at the interruption. She grunts and moves the regenerator an increment as a dermo-musculature regeno-suture works on the inside of the mans thigh. To the nurse she grumbles:: Get me 4ml o hexadrin an cut it wi anetrizine. .8 percent. ::Then she almost seems to bark over the comms::
=/\=A wee bit busy 'ere, Capn. Will get up wi ye at me earliest convenience, Sickbay out.=/\=
::That is not a tone of voice that the first officer tends to use with her captain at the worst of times, easily indicating that things are a bit serious at a moment. The bark also came with a certain cracking of voice. Not exaustion, but plenty tired...yet focused enough to not even feel it yet. Shes always been this way. Yet in the interveining years, something seems to have happened to her bedside manner. She seemed more curmudgeony than gentle. It could very well just be having her hands inside various life forms of our crew. Keeping them alive, ensuring that they are able to continue to operate...and putting away the ones that died. On top of this was simple battle triage...having to tell the nurses to make a man comfortable so that he could die while she saved the ones that had a chance. Things had eased quite a bit until the few unaccounted for, still among the injured, were brought in from the hull breached decks. Treating vacuume frostbite and shattered limbs. Removing life support from the brain dead so she could use it on someone else.::
::It is roughly 2 hours later that she finally eases up and steps back from the young man whose leg looks normal again, stripping her hands of their coverings to rub at her lower back. Giving her nurses a respectful nod of thanks and indeed a bit of apology for her abrasive receptivity to input and giving of orders. They get it. She leans against a biobed for a moment, rubbing the heel of her hand over her eyes when she is lightly bumped by a datapad, handed from her chief nurse. Giving the woman a nod, Deis takes the padd and looks it over. Wincing and closing her eyes:: Damn. ::These are not good numbers. But theres nothing for it. The Captain wants the butchers bill...and she has to bring it to him. But she will be damned if shes going to give these numbers over a comm:: Right. Ill be back at th soonest...ping me iffen anyone explodes aye?
::With that, she removes her spotted labcoat and leaves sickbay. Leaving the padd as well. She dosent need it. Those numbers will be burned into her brain from now on. She too didnt bother with finding a working turbolift, she just entered the tube closest between sickbay and the bridge and starts climbing. It allows her to move and not think though it does bring forth realization of how tired her body feels. Far too much has happened in the last day. She makes the climb though and squares shoulders, trying to look as professional as possible as she strides through the Bridge doors. Her hair has been tied back by the black sash she had worn around her hips when she went on her shopping trip. Luckily the black of her bodysuit dosent show anything in the way of blood or damage but there is no hiding the beautifully purple shiner over her right eye...she hasnt so much as noticed.:: Capn...yer readyroom iffen ye please.
::Then she just turns and heads into said readyroom herself, crossing arms over her chest and holding to the upper arms on either side as though cold. She cant seem to get rid of the angry expression on her face and it is clear that those greygreen eyes have seen far too much in the last half a day. It hasnt all been processed yet. The job had to be done. She sort of plops down in one of the chairs, glad to do so with a heavy sigh. She does so wish that she could maintain the blank expression and the serenity that is Savots demeanor...but she is far too human for that:: There isna a pretty way t be sayin it...132 dead. 7 missin...assumed spaced. 14 in ICU. Capn, I... ::she has to pause, squeezing her eyes shut, and then opening them to look at him again:: Were outa room. Me quarantine bay is packed...stacked like cordwood. What be yer orders fer disposal?
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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: 6,160
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Post by Carl Torek on Apr 16, 2017 10:39:16 GMT
..... EVENT DAY TWO ..... Starbase Velocity : 0.232c ..... Distance Travelled : 5.18 x 109 Kilometers ..... With the Raven relatively secure, Carl had been summoned to the Command Center:Carl and Calli were sat looking out at the Raven, still listing to port but keeping a solid dock with the Starbase. Communications were sporadic but functioning and it was through this he had been requested to go to the Operations Center. They had mulled over various scenarios to traverse the intervening two hundred twenty nine decks that separated them with no luck. Turbo-lifts were working but again, they were too unreliable to trust, a carriage could loose magnetic cohesion and plummet the length of the shaft without warning killing anyone foolish enough to have entered. "There's only one viable option here." Calli said, knowing Carl wasn't going to like her suggestion, but given he sat silently waiting she took that and continued, "We need to bring transporters on-line." "Too risky." Carl said, not wanting to dismiss her out of hand but having no option. "Well ... There's the main core shafts ......." she said quietly. The core shaft was essentially a massive pipe that ran the full four kilometer length of the Starbase. One hundred meters in diameter, the shaft housed all main conduits and hard-wire relay's for the power distribution from the four warp cores. Every five Decks a crosswalk spanned the shaft so looking up or down these would appear like the spokes of a wheel. The core shaft itself was not normally sealed or pressurised, effectively acting as a cooling system for the whole Starbase. While the core shaft didn't contain any physical bulkheads, force-fields, powered by their own supply which was completely independent of the Starbase power systems, would snap into place should the need arise. These shields retained enough emergency power to remain intact for thirty nine days unless damaged. Entry to the core shaft was practically impossible for obvious reasons and any maintenance work was carried out under the strictest Security supervision. "You think we should just drift our way up there ?" Carl said, unable to prevent a grin forming despite their situation. "Worker-bee." Calli said, wondering if she had suffered a concussion she wasn't aware of. Carl stood, walking a few paces then turning to face her. Had the suggestion come from anyone else he would have dismissed it out of hand, but he could see she was completely serious. He wished he had Andae here to give his opinion because frankly to him it seemed almost too ridiculous to even consider. Last he had heard Andae had been on the Promenade so with luck he had found somewhere safe to ride out the initial impact and would be attempting to contact him of the Raven in due course. But he had no time to ponder who was where ... The Raven, relatively safe and under the Command of Harry Wedlerson was doing everything possible to assist the injured, both aboard ship and in the vicinity on the Dock itself. "Just out of curiosity here ..." he said, "But how would you propose getting a worker-bee from in there to in there ?" he said, pointing first at the open to space Dock, then in the general direction of the massive shaft. "We know the level below this one is open to vacuum, so .... I take one of the worker-bee's still static and go down one level, go through the glass and burn through the bulkhead into the shaft ... Easy." she said, grinning, even though what she was proposing was practically impossible to accomplish without something going drastically, and fatally, wrong. It was their only usable option unless they wanted to risk using one of the dock transporters, which given the sporadic power availability could see them materialise in a bulkhead or outside the Starbase ! "This level has air and gravity, how can we be sure that you blasting the hell out of the deck below won't compromise our safety ?" "Well, we don't, but if we erect temporary force-fields along the bulkhead dividers, then if we do decompress it will only be a fifteen meter span, the rest should remain OK." Calli said, also wishing the Chief Engineer was here to confirm or refute her predictions. "How long ?" Carl asked, still not convinced. "Ten minutes to prep' the 'bee ... Five to get in position and bring up the force-fields, thirty to burn through the inner and outer bulkheads into the central shaft, then come up to this level ?" she said, shrugging, already knowing what he was going to ask next she continued quickly, hoping to make the proposed endeavour less ridiculously dangerous, "Once on the other side of that wall I'll use the worker-bees' emergency transporter to beam you aboard." "..... And going up ?" he asked quietly, a decision already in the making. "We'd deactivate each force-field in turn, rising and reactivating them in sequence." she said. "I'll go in the 'bee." he said. "No ! ... You are going to be needed, there's no other option available Carl, it 'has' to be me." she said defiantly, "Oh believe me, if there was anyone else stupid enough, and close enough, I'd be shoving them in that thing head first and staying here, but there isn't, and we are wasting time talking about it." Their comm badges were working, albeit with static interference, but only when close, anything over sixty meters and the Comm dropped out. He told her over and over to keep a line open to him. He would erect as many force-fields throughout the dock as he could once she disengaged the worker-bee from it's mooring. Once out of sight he would return to the prearranged location where, hopefully, Calli would be able to transport him out. If all went to plan, he would stand three meters from bulkhead number G-219-8c4N. The worker-bee, once in position would be three meters from the opposite side. There wasn't much point in talking anymore, with a nod Calli ran for the moored maintenance craft, he ordered everyone out of the immediate vicinity ..........
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Gheskori
Command Staff ..
Commanding Officer Personnel Officer Trivia Officer
Section Admiral
USS Enzio
Registered: May 2, 2008 23:32:36 GMT
Posts: 1,538
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Post by Gheskori on Apr 17, 2017 14:38:47 GMT
OOC: Gheskori post coming soon
Event + approx. 19 to 24 hrs.
Lieutenant Miak was soon to learn that the USS Maracanda - before thought utterly dormant as it lay beside the Enzio, deserted of crew, nearly a kilometre away in the gloom - was far from the battered silent hulk it'd appeared. "Commander," he reported from tactical, "The Maracanda's computer core is showing signs of activity. Strange - there's no internal power source - nothing from the core at least, only batteries."
"Curiouser and curiouser."
"I'd say creepier and creepier," he replied, peering at the viewscreen for a moment at the slightly blue-tinted darkness of the dock, tiny cerulean jewels weakly peeking through here and there - distant bay-facing lights. He returned eyes to his console, studying it a moment and breathing a sigh of relief, "It appears the Maracanda is experiencing remote activation, from a source... outside the Starbase, I believe, sir."
Now there was a collective sigh of relief. "There's someone out there." Indeed, and someone on a ship who knew Starfleet command protocols, ones that could override a ship's internal protocols from without, in short, a Federation starship with a flag officer aboard who was attempting to gain access to another Federation starship's computer (unless their day was about to go from bad to worse, and a Federation starship and/or high-ranking officer had been compromised, his command codes taken and hostiles were attempting to gain control of... It didn't bear thinking about). "Try to identify."
Miak replied, "That's impossible without us also having a flag officer's command codes, sir, and they'd have to be higher than those of the flag officer whose trying to hack. Also sensors at their current level are insufficient to penetrate the base's external hull to identify the type of transmission they're using, that is, whether the transmission's a Federation one and from its configuration what class of ship is behind it. However, we could use the sensors to reconstruct an image of the space surrounding the transmission's source... There are several probable locations of the ship; mapping, using what limited resources we do have in the way of sensors, those several projected circles, we could guess the topography of a vessel that... hopefully, should be in one of them."
"Proceed."
About a minute later, "Sir, the Maracanda is scanning the interior of the docking bay. Information is being fed back along the transmission that activated their computer core." Miak had an idea, backed by Lieutenant Clark, "I'll see if I can patch us into the transmission; we may be able to send a communication back along to its source."
They agreed upon something simple, "Unidentified Starfleet vessel. This is the Federation starship Enzio. We have observed your efforts to learn of the situation inside the docking bay. Send identification codes." They were duly received - the USS El Salvador. She'd survived. There were smiles about the bridge - pleased to know a ship out there had survived; any victory, however minor in the face of the incredible loss they had suffered and were still learning about, was to be welcomed, though it was of necessity muted given their collective tortured mental state.
The Enzio continued its audio-only report to the El Salvador that lay without, "It's good to hear your voices, El Sal. Within the bay itself, we can report destruction of approximately half the vessels of starship tonnage, in three cases total destruction, two of those caused by matter-antimatter core meltdowns that resulted in explosions in the 1000+ isotons range. What do the sensors on the Maracanda report? So we may cross-reference."
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Andae Blakus
Moderator ..
Commander 1C
Registered: Oct 17, 2007 22:48:27 GMT
Posts: 1,447
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Post by Andae Blakus on Apr 18, 2017 14:27:29 GMT
Day 2
Blakus had been sequestered in temporary quarters on the base whilst the contingency operations in his immediate vicinity continued in earnest. He'd found no way to get back to the Raven, and last he had heard the ship had accomplished a tenuous redocking with a mooring, that with a skeleton crew aboard and with very limited resources indeed, so he understood.
He swivelled about on his seat to face his personal terminal, the latest message flashing its scarlet warning across his eyelids - his eyes were shut - exhaustion - and he'd been lying back in this way for the past several hours. Perhaps he should be out there helping, but... his concussion, and Milyanov's personal loss had cut at him deeper than he'd first thought.
He and Harton - Milyanov's deceased partner - had once been an item, and there were perhaps secondary, reverbatory aftershocks passing through his unconscious and near-consciousness, which held the key to his affection for her in past-times, which had endured - at least in the manner of close friendship - up until the time of her untimely demise near the promenade.
Shrugging off the thoughts, he leant forward and pushed the 'respond' command on the interface to accept the communique, barking coarsely as the channel opened, "Blakus, here. How can I help?"
"Commander... Perhaps this isn't the best time," the aide from Ops said - Blakus could see the new chaotic layout of the place beyond the aide. "I can see you're tir- "
"Is this the best time for any of us?" Blakus asked. Well, no, of course was the response to that. "What do you need?"
"Admiral Veblen invites you to assist him in Operations. Having recognised you as one of the foremost starship Chief Engineers still remaining on the Starbase, he's chosen you as the person to whom he should put his proposal." The aide went onto explain something about redirection of EPS power flow and waste disposal operations, quite vague, however.
Arriving in Ops - and having walked with his eyes partially closed through the corridors strewn with rubble, so as not to have to see and experience the terror that'd near caved him in before, and bodies, still... still! not cleared away, even in these topmost sections of the base - ... upon arrival he stopped by the master docking controller's station, the young Warrant Officer there glancing up nervously at the newcomer - evidently a replacement, taking the place of an experienced, well-regarded but... dead officer, Blakus thought.
"At ease, crewman," he patted the man's shoulder having him return to his console's seat, "Tell me about the USS Raven. Can you confirm they've completed docking procedures?"
"Umm... They have, sir - " the graphic showing the Raven's position by its mooring was flashing green to show a hard-lock, and there were several other readings - engine signatures of vessels - displayed nearby in graphic form, hovering about the Raven's indicator like airborne insects, one of which was in the station's interior. The crewman pointed to that very one, "This was twenty minutes ago; sensors are partially reestablished but are lagging, we can't get updates any faster. It appears a transportation recently took place from near the Raven's mooring's vestibule/airlock, to this maintenance worker bee. We 'think' the bee is in the core shaft."
Veblen could wait... He tapped his commbadge, "Milyanov, Blakus. Can you possibly get down to the decks near the top of the core shaft? There may be a ship trying to make its way through, past the forcefields, if they can manage it and if I imagine correctly what they're trying to do. Your assistance from the core shaft master console may increase their chances of success." The daring of the plan, the 50-50 at best chances of its success... something told him - almost a telepathy - that certain senior officers of the Raven were involved, and relief washed over him, as he realised that some of his senior officer colleagues and friends, had survived... one, two, three...? If only he could make contact with the Raven! Ascertain who was and who wasn't still in material reality.
"Can do," the response from his Russian Assistant CEO came after a perceptible pause, "I'm heading down there now, Andae..."
<Tag Carl, Calli>
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Deleted
Registered: Mar 29, 2024 9:51:43 GMT
Posts: 0
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Post by Deleted on Apr 18, 2017 18:31:16 GMT
::Before all hell broke loose::
Dena picked up her duffel bag and slipped it over her shoulder. She surveyed her surroundings as she stepped through the airlock and onto Starbase 47, her new home. She had arrived a week early so should could get her bearings and learn her way around before reporting for duty. She hated being tossed into the frey and not knowing where things were or who the people she would interact with on a daily basis.
"Come on girl, get it together" she muttered as she moved towards the promenade. She usually wasn't this off focus but today felt like her first day on campus. She took a deep breath and moved through the corridors to where she'd be bunking until she took her duty station.
Dena decided to unpack and get settled before finding grub. She was hungry. The trip had been long, and boring. she had spent the time reading, acquainting herself with the layout of the station and learning a little about her superior as well as those in Federation who she would be working alongside.
Dena let out a long sigh as the door of her quarters closed behind her.
::Fast Forward to hell breaking loose::
Dena was jolted awake when the klaxons starting blaring.
*** STARBASE LOCKDOWN PROCEDURES IN EFFECT WITH IMMEDIATE EFFECT THIS IS NOT A DRILL ***
*** ALL BULKHEADS WILL BE SEALED ..... ALL BULKHEADS WILL BE SEALED ***
"What the hell?" she exclaimed as she jumped to her feet and slipped into her jacket. She was already moving out of her quarters knowing she didn't want to get caught there once the bulkheads were sealed, she'd be of more use to the station if she wasn't trapped.
Dena was headed back towards the promenade when the station started to tremble beneath her feet then she was thrown to the floor and the lights went out.....
[Please someone take it from there, and get me into the story. Assume she's not gravely injured and able to help out but I leave the rest up to whomever wants to help me out and glad to be involved]
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Sean O'Toole
Civilian
The Luck O' the Irish
Registered: Aug 13, 2016 0:12:33 GMT
Posts: 59
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Post by Sean O'Toole on Apr 19, 2017 17:24:42 GMT
Event plus 28 hrs ::The survivors gathered in the middle of the room, Sean had gone back to where he had found Michele and had covered the deceased girls. Once done he want to the door, pulling everything away then he tried the release button, but with no effect. He tried again, and again, finally admitting it wasn't going to work. He opened the small panel beside the door and grasped the manual release lever, but it too was stuck, he tightened his grip and placed his other hand on the door for leverage, he withdrew it instantly ! "Whats the matter Sean ?" Kira asked. "The door ...." he said, "It's HOT !" "But cooling, you can feel it here, and here." Kira said, moving he hand over the door tentatively. Sean opened a small panel beside the door, it gave him access to surveillance and other controls throughout the bar ... He could see that the bar itself, at this end had caught fire but suppression systems had begun to douse and the door was already cooling. He could see movement in the bar especially towards the front where the emergency bulkhead had been raised. In the gloom he could see Federation Officers apparently searching the premises. He used the panel and opened a comm to the bar itself: "HELLO .... In the bar !" he said, seeing someone react he continued, "Back of the bar, room off to the right. Is it safe to open the door ?" he could see one Officer, presumably part of the Starbase Fire Control Team talking but couldn't hear him, "I can't hear you, Comm must be damaged, just give me a thumbs-up if it's OK to open the door." the man did so and Sean activated the release ... The bar smelled of doused flame and scorched furniture, but despite that, the only fire damage was right next to the door where they had sought sanctuary. "Name ?" the man demanded. "Sean O'Toole, proprietor. There are three of us left, two didn't make it, what happened ?" "To soon to tell Sir, you'll be updated in due course, do you or any of the others require medical assistance ?" "No .... No, we'll be OK, look I'll have hot drinks ready if your guys need a quick break." he said, nodding to Kira who got the others and set to work behind the bar. "That won't be necessary Sir, I'll need you and your companions to remain in this segment of the Promenade. We are currently removing deceased and injured, your presence will only hinder efforts. I will have orderlies retrieve the deceased from your establishment in due course." with that the men left, leaving Sean stood in the middle of the bar dumbfounded. Michelle came over, nursing her shoulder. Sean sat her down trying to make sense of what had happened ... Had the base been attacked, suffered a catastrophic explosion, it didn't help there being zero information available. He went to the front of the bar, hot cup of coffee cradled in his hands ... People were wandering aimlessly, unfortunately, some of them weren't moving at all. He was turning to go back in when there was a thud on the window ! Almost jumping out of his skin he turned to see a young woman in civilian clothing, cuts and bruises, her hair matted with dried blood. He stepped out and took hold of her, guiding her into the bar and sitting her down. He tried to get her to sip at the coffee but it must have been too hot, he called Kira over: "Give me some help Kira, she's hurt, but not too badly from what i can tell, maybe it's a little shock." the bar's Assistant Manager came over with a cloth, she wiped away some of the blood and asked the woman her name. "Pezam ... Lieutenant Dena Pezam." the woman replied almost in a whisper. "Starfleet." Michelle said. "Marine." the woman corrected. "OK Lieutenant, your going to be OK, get something hot down you, you'll need it, you'll also need a Medic to look you over." Kira handed her a smaller mug, this one filled with hot sticky substance, Dena looked at the contents expressionlessly, "It's broth, it'll do you the world of good. Now get it down you before we're forced to do it for ya." [ Tag : Dena / All ]
OOC :: Dena, you can reply here from now on, at some point one of the Raven Officers will find you, or you them lol
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Deleted
Registered: Mar 29, 2024 9:51:43 GMT
Posts: 0
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Post by Deleted on Apr 19, 2017 20:03:18 GMT
::There and Back Again, or to Hell and back:: Dena woke, her hand moved to her forehead. She muttered under her breath as she pulled her hand away and realized she was bleeding. "No time to worry about it now" she said to herself as she rose to her feet and looked around. The area of the promenade was in shambles. There were bodies lying around. The dull red of the emergency lighting didn't allow her to see if they were moving or not. Her training kicked in as she began checking on those nearest her. Unfortunately most of them were either already dead or beyond help. The most she could do was offer a little comfort for them. She kept working her way towards where she thought there might, she hoped, be more people. She found herself outside of the Bar, O'Tooles, she thought was the name. She pounded on the door and peered into the window. ::Current time, O'Tooles :: Dena sat down and pushed away the offered drink, she was disoriented and trying to process what she had seen and what she saw around her now. A woman wiped the blood off her forehead and asked her name. "Pezam ... Lieutenant Dena Pezam." she replied "Starfleet." She was asked? "Marine." Dena corrected her. Dena was offered another mug and she took it, and looked at the contents. She let out a chuckle at the womans words. She sipped the broth and as the warm liquid made its way into her she looked around and frowned. “What happened?” She didn't figure they would know but she asked anyway. Her mind still processing what she had seen on her way to the bar and what she was seeing now. “What can I do to help?” She asked as she stood up and wobbled slightly. She wasn't about to sit still while there were others who needed her assistance. She looked at Sean, Kira and Michelle. “What can I do to help. Put me to work doing something, anything.” Hurt or not she wasn't about to just sit on the sidelines. [Tag, I figure I will let someone on the Raven come looking for me. ] [Tag Sean]
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Sean O'Toole
Civilian
The Luck O' the Irish
Registered: Aug 13, 2016 0:12:33 GMT
Posts: 59
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Post by Sean O'Toole on Apr 20, 2017 17:10:07 GMT
Event : Day Two ::Sean watched as Kira tended to the shocked Marine, eventually she was able to ask questions, all of which no-one had answers to unfortunately. "What can I do to help ?" Dena asked, getting to her feet shakily. "You can sit down and recover first off." Michelle said, almost putting the Marine back in her seat, Dena was looking an unnatural shade of green now, "We have enough to be getting on with girly, so how about we let you rest for a while. Once you feel you can stand up without falling over, or throwing up all over the place, you can give one of us a shout, OK ?" she turned away before the woman could answer. "According to one of the Security Personnel we were hit by some sort of shock-wave. He wasn't too sure of the details, but safe to say we're moving, and fast !" Kira informed them. "Has anyone heard from the top ?" Sean asked as several injured were brought into the bar. "Not a word yet, but I can imagine they have their hands full at present." Kira said, before taking one of the injured to a booth. she wiped blood from a gash in the girls' forehead and took a wad of napkins, placing them over the cut and asking the girl to hold them in place. As she looked up she could see some of the emergency bulkheads were raising and went to the door. she was right, the bulkheads over shop-fronts were going up, and the massive section dividers were also raising but only far enough to allow people to traverse without crouching, 'so they could be lowered much quicker should the need arise ?' she pondered inwardly. Emergency teams were making their way through accessible levels of the Starbase now but many hundreds of levels were still isolated, either through lack of personnel or through loss of power to the emergency bulkheads that had snapped into place Over the next few hours people came in, were treated, and those that were able left to find loved ones or to try to report to wherever they should be, finally Dena felt able to help ... Sean noticed that the screens in the bar were still off, but several on the Promenade itself were active, albeit sporadically. There was a message repeating on the screens: STARBASE 47 HAS SUFFERED A CATASTROPHIC EVENT STARBASE 47 HAS SUFFERED A CATASTROPHIC EVENT
ALL FEDERATION OFFICERS PLEASE REPORT TO NEAREST EMERGENCY POINTS THROUGHOUT STATION
CIVILIAN PERSONNEL AND VISITORS PLEASE REMAIN IN LOCATION AS ASSISTANCE IS ENDEAVOURING TO REACH YOU
He went back into the bar and told everyone the news. Those that still remained were too injured to leave, but Medic's were now filtering into the Promenade and eventually reached the bar. It was clear power was fluctuating as the lights were dipping every few seconds but thankfully not going out completely. He could also hear intermittent Comm chatter, so they were working on that too. He looked around his establishment: The far corner, where the back room was located was charred, the rest thankfully had escaped fire damage, but had suffered nonetheless and would take some time to fix, but that wasn't a priority at this point he knew. He went over to the far end of the bar and tapped the Comm link Admiral Torek had had installed for emergency purposes, he knew the Raven was docked and he felt this situation qualified ... =^= Carl .. Sean to Carl Torek .. Can you hear me ? =^= =^= O'Toole to Commander Valente .. Commander Blakus .. USS Raven .. .. .. =^= Nothing, it was worth a try even if just to get more information on what had happened to them ..........
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Gheskori
Command Staff ..
Commanding Officer Personnel Officer Trivia Officer
Section Admiral
USS Enzio
Registered: May 2, 2008 23:32:36 GMT
Posts: 1,538
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Post by Gheskori on Apr 21, 2017 19:28:58 GMT
OOC: This bit is right up to date (well, up to just before the staff briefing) but keep progressing through the hours in the same way we have been, everybody, we're doing fantastically.
"Mwv'mci! My love..." Gheskori charged across the officer's lounge off Starbase Ops, curiously finding himself limping, towards his wife, who battered aside flag officers and other notables who made vague warblings and noises of disapproval ('Why is a civilian up here, even if she is the SA's wife?" "And more than that, did you know, Admiral, she's barely 20 years old?" "What's a kid doing up here?" But then such disgruntlement was bound to result from such an inhuman catastrophe as the base had witnessed in the last day and a half.)
"They released me before Melikhuor."
He reached her and hugged her. "Yes, he's expired, my beloved."
"I know. But it was good of you to give him the primary biobed in your sickbay, even if it was in vain." She withdrew from his arms, "Have you heard from your ship?"
Ghes bowed his head. He had yes, but the news was not good. While the ship had not suffered as much as say, the USS El Salvador had seemed to, each of the three hulls had sustained heavy damage which in the case of one of the sections was still far from being anything like returned to a state wherein those aboard could feel comfortable they had the ship under them. Ghes had been wanting to get down to the ship ever since he'd crossed the threshold of the Starbase sickbay four or five hours ago, but the closing of emergency bulkheads, and in some cases the automatic shutting off of sections of the Starbase in anticipation of the shockwave's impact, had completely closed off any and all routes he may have used to get down to the Prometheus class vessel. To be separated from his ship in this manner, so close and yet so distant, and with the ambience of the calamity still coruscating about them, suffocating all efforts to think about anything other than disaster, was frustrating and demoralising, and only his wife's face and her radiant glow could serve to elevate his thoughts and console the part of him that felt the only quasi-illusory sensation of having to face up to devastating personal, and not just professional loss.
"Admiral Gheskori. Admiral Tetsutaro and... a host of 'others' await your pleasure in conference room 3-Beta."
Ghes nodded. The Commander was obviously referring to the hordes of reporters, assorted civilians representing various entities from all over the Starbase, those in turn representing groups, institutions, whole civilisations in Starbase 47's former charge of Sector 47. Ghes turned to his wife, dismissed her with a brief display of his affection and joined the Commander. "Have we heard from Admiral Torek and Commodore Savot?"
"Admiral Torek, we believe, has found his way up here, sir," the Commander confirmed. "I am not entirely sure, but I believe Commodore Savot is still aboard the El Salvador. We're awaiting confirmation whether or not he'll be able to attend."
"Tell him he shouldn't have to drop what he's doing; if the El Salvador needs attention, and I know she does, having been stuck outside the station during the... incident," oh, how he referred to it still so lightly, in public if not in private... "If his ship needs him I won't insist that Sato's meeting takes precedence. Our ships are what are going to allow us to deduce exactly 'where' we are, or end up, in the long run."
"Veblen and Captain Miak, a tactical officer of yours' father, will be in attendance," the Commander said as they continued walking.
"What about Admiral Reynolds."
"The last we heard he was thirty seven decks down, helping damage control teams in clearing several passageways leading from the docking ring to the inner sections."
"Excellent." He paused, "Though if something goes wrong down there... We can't afford to lose a flag officer in that way." If the Starbase continued in the way it was (heading out into virtual nothingness beyond which at great length lay the denser region of stars making up the core of the Milky Way), and continued accelerating uncontrollably, eventually reaching a velocity that would inexorably lead to the Starbase tearing itself apart under immense Newtonian-Einsteinian forces, this, and all the while surely experiencing a dwindling of their pool of flag officers, an erosion of the Section's command hierarchy or what was left of it, they would be needing all the Admirals and Commodores they could get, or would have to start promoting inexperienced mid-ranking officers into flag positions...
"I'll see what I can do to get a message down to him."
Ghes nodded as they stepped into the conference room with Sato and numerous - and now stranded - Federation dignitaries already present.
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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: 6,160
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Post by Carl Torek on Apr 22, 2017 0:53:11 GMT
..... EVENT DAY TWO ..... Starbase Velocity : 0.232c ..... Distance Travelled : 5.38 x 109 Kilometers ..... Carl spent the next fifty minutes moving everyone he could away from the section he expected Calli to be arriving at ... The sick and injured were moved along with the deceased, the last thing he wanted was some unexpected mishap ... He used his Command Access to activate four force-fields, two either side of where he was then sat on the floor facing the bulkhead and waited ...... Several times he reached for his Comm badge, attempting to contact Calli, but without luck, Comms were sporadic at best and it was likely Command were restricting chatter to all but essential communications. Suddenly there was a dull 'thud' in front of him and he shot to his feet waiting. Again a thud, this time he stepped back away from the bulkhead to the position they had previously decided upon, seconds later he felt the tell-tale caress of a transport .... ~~~~~ Materialising in the small worker-bee maintenance shuttle Carl was admittedly surprised Calli's suggestion had worked so faultlessly, but his elation was short-lived: "We don't have much in the way of life-support." Calli said, handing a breathing mask to him as he took the seat next to her, "We might need these before we get to the top, fingers crossed life-support will hold out, but I had trouble getting it up and running thus my delay. One piece of good new though ... Apparently these little things have built-in programming to cope if the emergency shaft force-fields are activated. I only found out myself as I came into position to begin overriding the first 'field. It disappeared and the 'bee just continued to rise, the 'field snapped back into place as we past it. The last six have followed suit." she said, almost shrugging. "So we can just go up then, no problem ?" Carl said, trying not to look the good fortune as a bad omen. "We'll go up in a spiral." Calli said, instructing the worker-bee to continue it's traverse upwards, "This little thing is doing everything for us. Hell, we could have broken out the picnic basket if we'd had one." ...... Ninety minutes later ::"We can only go as far as Deck Eleven in this. The openings in the shaft are too small even for this little beauty." Calli informed Carl, who had thankfully been able to let the Command Center of his eventual arrival, "We'll need to transport out, onto eleven and hoof it from there." "Main Operation is on Decks Eight and Nine ...." Carl replied, "You expect me to climb 'two decks' at my age !" he said with a wry grin. Calli too managed a smile, a rare thing given their circumstances. The worker-bee continued up then came to a halt, a chime indicating it had gone as far as it could. Calli took manual control back and moved the shuttle towards the antenna-laden wall, inching forward as close as she could without damaging any of the protruding stanchions. She got up and began to program the transporter to check there was atmosphere where they were going, Carl stood and watched his half-sister work, something on his mind. When she was ready he'd made a decision: "Calli, you're not needed in the meeting." he said, seeing her expression change minutely for a second, "I know you're Intelligence, but even you'll agree that your particular set of skills are somewhat redundant at the moment ... That said, there's something I'd like you to do for me .... Take the 'bee' down again, through the Dome and down to the Promenade levels." "Sean and Kira ?" Calli asked. "I know it's selfish, but you're going down there will serve a double purpose ... I want you to take charge down there, you will use my authority. We have no idea what is happening on the lower levels, but it's a given it isn't going to be great. If there is anyone of Captain rank then inform them of my orders, they can argue it when we're face to face, but you need to take a lead role !" he said, seeing her watching him closely, "Yes, I want you to check-up on Sean and Kira at the same time, in fact, if the bar is still serviceable set up a Command Center in there, have whatever resources available get to work on establishing a Comm to command. They will already be doing so, but push them Calli, OK ... They are going to get married you know, it's one of those secrets he's had trouble keeping but has managed it so far. They were going to announce it in a few weeks when his mother arrived, that's not going to happen anytime soon now." "OK ..." was all Calli said, and needed to say. She turned her attention to the transporter then looked at Carl, "Stay safe OK." she said, activating the sequence before he could reply. Once she was alone she instructed the worker-bee to retrace it's course then continue down. She reclined the seat back and closed her eyes hoping to rest them for a few seconds while the shuttle did it's job ... Deck Nine : COMMAND CENTER :: Carl had taken almost another full hour to traverse the two Decks from where Calli had beamed him in, up to the lower Command Deck Level. He finally reached the doors which were firmly closed with six Security Personnel stood in his way. He walked up to them fully expecting a path to open but he was mistaken. he stopped in front of a Lieutenant Commander, who was making no effort to disguise the fact that his phaser rifle was set on full, AND was aiming at Carl's gut: "Problems, Commander ?" he asked, eyeing the other five, who seemed much too eager to be shooting than talking. "Identification." the man snapped back. Carl took a breath ... "I'm going to assume you are either new to Security, new to the Starbase, or just, new." he said, not wanting to make an issue of the mans over-zealousness, "I am Fleet Admiral Carl Torek. Executive Officer of this Starbase, and just for reference, Commanding Officer of the USS Raven-C ... I'd like to get in there, if that's OK with you, Gentlemen." "It's him Sir." one of the others said. The Commander stepped aside, opening the ornate double doors so Carl could pass through, "Sorry Admiral, but we've had everyone and their cat up here demanding they had a right to entry." the man said to his back. The doors closed and Carl they needed to get order reestablished quickly. "Admiral Torek, good to see you safe and well." A Lieutenant said, approaching, "The Senior Command Officers are in the Conference Room Sir." "Thank you Lieutenant." he said, making his way across the Command Center ..........
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CSS
Command Staff ..
Registered: Apr 27, 2003 15:54:40 GMT
Posts: 63
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Post by CSS on Apr 22, 2017 1:08:49 GMT
*** CONTINUITY ***
Could all members please refer to the Starbase Deck Layout when noting their positions on the Starbase
You can use the link below to view the layout:
Starbase 47
This helps with accurate continuity throughout the thread
Regards
Command Staff
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Post by Savot on Apr 23, 2017 16:58:44 GMT
[El Salvador: Main Bridge, Event +19-24 Hours]
Karysta worked, her emotional control beginning to resemble that of her faux-father's now that she had a technical task to focus on to distract her from thoughts of the scale of the horror that had befallen this cluster of beings hurtling through space, "The starship Maracanda was undergoing a radiation purge of the entire hull following an attempt to study... fluidic space? I'm not familiar with that, but that means her crew would have to have evacuated as the purge would destroy all organic matter within the ship; accessing Command Codes now from the Starfleet Database."
Savot arched a brow at the mention of the home of the shapeshifting telepathic species the Borg had referred to as Species 8472; it was little surprise that Karysta hadn't heard of it as Savot did not even know if the Mirror Universe had encountered them yet and even if they had their existence here was far from common knowledge. In moments Karysta had entered in the Maracanda's command codes and initiated transmission; it took tightening and increasing power to the communications beam to pierce the interference coming from Starbase 47's damage but within 43 minutes of his initial order to attempt this plan, the El Salvador was receiving telemetry from her abandoned fellow vessel. "Put the data up on the Master Situation Analysis screen", Savot ordered, referring to the large touch-screen navigable screen that went nearly floor-to-cieling at the rear center of the Main Bridge.
The real-time data flickered in and out of being, fighting against interference from the station's damage and then the impact of said damage on the strength of the signal transmission. But once a clear signal of a given section of the base was received a still image of that data was locked into place, gradually creating a gap-filled but growing damage report schematic of Starbase 47's cross-section. There appeared to be large blankets of residue from intense matter-antimatter explosions within the docking area and through the interference it was impossible to confirm with any celerity what ships were and weren't intact. Shortly; however, a message carried over the telemetry signal helped to shed some light on that... =^=Unidentified Starfleet vessel. This is the Federation starship Enzio. We have observed your efforts to learn of the situation inside the docking bay. Send identification codes.=^=
Savot nodded to Karysta as she spun in her chair to wordlessly requested permission, and she transmitted their codes even as she opened a voice-channel for Savot to reply, "Enzio this is Commodore Savot of El Salvador. I express both my sincere satisfaction at hearing your continued existence, and my condolences on the losses you've faced thus far. We're attempting to ascertain the damage to and status of the Starbase and its inhabitant vessels."
The Enzio officer replied, =^=It's good to hear your voices, El Sal. Within the bay itself, we can report destruction of approximately half the vessels of starship tonnage, in three cases total destruction, two of those caused by matter-antimatter core meltdowns that resulted in explosions in the 1000+ isotons range. What do the sensors on the Maracanda report? So we may cross-reference.=^= Savot again nodded his agreement to Karysta who used the piggy-back signal to establish a tightbeam transmission to the Enzio, sharing their data feed from the Maracanda, "Those core meltdowns correlate with interference pockets we're reading within the docking area. Their also appears to be energy interference around the majority of decks 100-200, most likely caused by damage to the casing of the External Ship Support Fusion Reactors. Numerous hull breaches primarily on the rotational side of the starbase that was struck by the spatial wave, though others have certainly been caused by unsecured material shifting during the impact. We're getting readings consistent with deuterium leakage on Deck 555 which depending on stability of power to emergency environmental controls could have resulted in fires. To be cautious I'm logging a 37% probability that the phaser defense grid for those sections of the base is inactive due to safety deactivation of the Phaser Power Reactors in on those decks, though an external attack is hardly necessary at this point to render the situation worse than it already is. We're bringing the El Salvador closer to the station via maneuvering thrusters."
Enzio replied that at last report the Starbase was gathering a status briefing with all top-level entities available, Savot nodding unsurprised as he listened, grateful for the confirmation, "Thank you, Enzio. If you establish contact with anyone inside, you may inform them I anticipate attendance, ETA 8.3 hours. Suggest we maintain this communication channel for use as-needed, Enzio, as further damage may make establishing one anew difficult. You've all performed admirably weathering this crisis as you have; hold fast and continue your efforts as will we; Savot out."
************************************************************************************************************************ [El Salvador Main Bridge, Ready Room: 2 hours later]
Heads turned only briefly at the manual opening of the starboard bridge turbolift heralding the return of Commander Irae who spoke to the vulcan captain without delay or preamble, "Capn...yer readyroom iffen ye please." Deis entered the room first with Savot following, the doors whooshing closed behind the pair as Deis sighed into a seat, the metaphorical weight of dozens of bodies on her shoulders. The Ready Room lights blinked in irregular patterns as Savot moved to stand at the side of his desk to face her, distant enough so she wouldn't have to angle her neck severely to address his face but without the desk itself separating them in a display of support to indicate she was not alone through this crisis. "There isna a pretty way t be sayin it...132 dead. 7 missin...assumed spaced. 14 in ICU. Capn, I..." ::she has to pause, squeezing her eyes shut, and then opening them to look at him again:: "Were outa room. Me quarantine bay is packed...stacked like cordwood. What be yer orders fer disposal?"
Savot's eyes closed briefly at the number... even the crippling of the El Salvador-B had not resulted in this many casualties, though he reminded himself that they were fortunate to have survived the shockwave at all. The vulcan offered silent apology to the dead, knowing that they deserved far better than what circumstances had forced upon them. He cataloged these musings within a five-second span and was then replying to his First Officer, "For all whose cultural beliefs would not oppose the action, utilize the transporters to disperse their molecules across space." He considered how, albeit unavoidably, curt that action seemed and an idea occurred to him, "Their molecular patterns will be recorded in the pattern buffers; we can pull each pattern up in visual form, a form of molecular identification badge so to speak. Their comm badges can be repurposed to display a small holographic image of their former bearer's pattern which we could display on a wall on Deck 7 outside Main Sickbay. Not to serve as a reminder of what is lost, but that every injury and obstacle we overcome is done to honor them, and endeavor to keep their loss from being in vain. I recommend allowing some of the cadets to repurpose the comm badges; their morale will be well served by having a tangible contribution to make. Though soon enough they will be contributing extensively as we train them to fill billets vacated by the lost."
He walked closer to her left side, facing the doors as he rested his left hand gently upon her left shoulder, "There is a command debriefing being organized aboard Starbase 47 and I feel it prudent to attend both to share our information and gather that which the others have procured as well. The ship is yours in my absence but do not hesitate to leave Mr. Tamarov the bridge if your medical duties require your presence more. We will weather this catastrophe, Deis, as we have weathered all else."
*********************************************************************************************************************** [Starbase 47: Event +32.2 Hours Deck 36 Airlock]
It had taken time for the El Salvador to nudge herself on maneuvering thrusters closer to the Starbase, then to wait for the requisite airlock on Deck 36 to rotate back into line-of-sight to limit the interference that could potentially hinder the transport as Savot stood ready on the pad in full EVA suit. Both fortunately and unfortunately for differing reasons, the rotational opportunity coincided with another ejection of bodies from SB47, at the completion of which Savot gave a nod for Cadet Zhegras to beam him inside the airlock alcove where he proceeded to activate the emergency controls outside the airlock to signal those within. After a harrowing moment of wondering if one of the bodies had actually gotten stuck inside the alcove and was accidentally activating the external console, the med techs within saw with widening eyes the suited being waiting outside the viewport and hurriedly began the process of cycling the airlock to admit the vulcan officer.
Stepping inside, Savot immediately began to de-suit down to his command uniform, handing the suit off to a tech for storage, "My apologies for my means of entry; Commodore Savot of El Salvador, requesting permission to come aboard for command-level debrief."
Where it might have seemed ridiculous under the circumstances, adhering to the business-as-usual protocol formality was actually a small comfort to those tasked with this unenviable but necessary job, "Don't apologize, sir. It's damned good to see a living body come through that airlock for a change... Ah, right, permission granted, sir. I think they're gathering in the conference room on Deck 3... but turbolifts in this section are out. I wish I could be more help sir."
Savot shook his head, "Not at all crewman; the situation is similar for all of us. All any of us can do is our utmost; and face what circumstances come, carry on. And thank you for your work; these beings are being handled by those with compassion, and that is far better treatment than many receive at the end of their time." Punctuating himself with a firm nod, Savot was then off to find the nearest Jeffries Tube access hatch and begin the lengthy climb to the Conference Room deck, hoping not to delay the debriefing too significantly as he grew increasingly curious as to how each other vessel and Starbase 47 herself had fared in the wake of the impact...
(Whomever is beginning the briefing can assume Savot's arrival at the beginning of their post; if late he'd simply enter aiming to cause as little disruption as possible to the proceedings)
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Calli Valente
Starfleet Intelligence
"Don't get in my way."
Registered: Aug 4, 2010 21:19:10 GMT
Posts: 534
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Post by Calli Valente on Apr 23, 2017 19:51:10 GMT
Event plus 36 Hours ::"I know it's selfish, but you're going down there will serve a double purpose ... I want you to take charge down there, you will use my authority. We have no idea what is happening on the lower levels, but it's a given it isn't going to be great. If there is anyone of Captain rank then inform them of my orders, they can argue it when we're face to face, but you need to take a lead role !"
"OK ....." was all she could reply as Carl vanished from sight ... She instructed the worker-bee to reverse it's climb through the massive Starbase, knowing it was going to take three hours minimum to get through all the emergency force-fields erected throughout the shaft. She could do nothing but rest and wait until the tiny craft had fallen almost 1,550 Levels and was approaching the Promenade Levels. This is where she realised her first problem: Should she transport onto the Promenade, there would be no way of making use of the shuttle again, so she would effectively be stuck where she was until internal transports or the turbo-lifts became operable once again ..... As the shuttle confirmed they were now at Level 1,551 - Promenade, she moved close to the bulkhead circumnavigating the shaft slowly, looking for bulkhead identification numbers until she located the one she needed, P-151-4b7V. If she had this right, she would transport onto the Promenade Upper Level approximately one hundred meters from O'Tooles Bar. If she was wrong, she likely wouldn't live long enough to realise her mistake. She took all drive power off-line and stood between the two transporter pads .... with a deep breath she activated the transporter ! Level 1551 - Alpha Promenade ::The first thing that struck her was the acrid odour, burnt materials, foul air, sporadic lighting ..... The Promenade was struggling to cope with what had happened, that was obvious, and understandable given the massive open spaces encircling the Space Station. To be honest, she was somewhat surprised that there had been no outer hull breaches due to the enormous stress forces it must have endured during the initial acceleration. But that said, here she was 'so on with business' she thought to herself as she began to make her way forward. Bulkheads were raising now as the situation allowed, some of the shops and establishments remained sealed, which could mean the owner had chosen to keep the bulkhead in place, or more likely, the stresses on the bulkheads had far exceeded tolerance. "Lieutenant !" she said as an Officer crossed her path, "Situation report." The man looked at her for a long moment, probably wondering who the woman was, but he did notice her rank insignia and replied: "Not good Commander ... We had a few fires but they have been dealt with, casualties are in the high three figures, we're using empty establishments to store the dead, as far as I can tell there are numerous triage points set up and two for the more seriously injured ... What happened, were we attacked ?" "Who is the most Senior Officer on this level Lieutenant ?" she asked, avoiding his question. "Iv'e been reporting to a Commander, from erm, sorry, I'm not sure, they are back that way in the cafe." "Carry on Lieutenant." Calli said, heading in the direction indicated, which took her towards O'Tools. She saw a woman with a young boy, both covered in blood, she dropped to her knee quickly checking out their condition, a crewman approached and she ordered the woman to stay with the pair and get them to the closest aid point. Up ahead she could see O'Tooles but she needed to find out who was in charge, or at least the ranking Officer down here before she could check up on her friends. She found the cafe, knew it well in fact as she had been there regularly, she walked in looking at the rows of injured and the distinct lack of people treating them, finally she spotted who she was looking for and approached the man: "Commander ...." she said, waiting for him to reply, which he did, "Commander Venush, I have been instructed to take Command down here by Fleet Admiral Torek, I need you to get me up to speed quickly." "Hey ......" he said, looking her up and down, his expression changing as he realised she was wearing black and not a Department designation, therefore Intelligence, "Fine, you want to take over, feel free, Commander !" the man said almost spitting the words out as he glared at Valente. She almost snapped the man back in place, but knew the stresses everyone was under. "Commander, we're all in this situation together, so let's not fall out. I need your input and your cooperation, I'm not going to be barking orders or threatening to have your Family vanished to some obscure moon a trillion kilometers away, so let's work together OK ?" she said quietly. "I apologise Commander." the man said, Calli accepted and they ran through what he knew. Forty minutes later she was confident she could undertake Carl's secondary purpose, she left the cafe and made her way to O'Tooles ..... Entering, she could see the bar had taken some damage, but not as bad as some places on the Promenade. She looked around, seeing the injured being treated, seeing Michelle she went over to her: "Michelle, how are you ?" "Calli ! ... Wow, didn't expect to see you down here, you're Ok then, that's good." she said, hugging her. "Where's Sean, Kira ?" "Ah, well, They were at the back, near the stage, treating some of the injured, did we get attacked Calli ?" the girl asked. "No, but we're in trouble, I'll speak to you later OK, I need to see Sean." She walked back towards the stage area and could see Kira and Sean helping move injured to tables, she stood for a moment watching then when Sean put the improvised stretcher down and turned he saw her. "Calli !" he said, hugging her, "How the hell did ya get down here, how's Carl, the Raven ?" ..........
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Sato Tetsutaro
Starfleet Intelligence
[Deceased]
Registered: Nov 30, 2013 2:01:59 GMT
Posts: 538
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Post by Sato Tetsutaro on Apr 26, 2017 22:19:35 GMT
* Back-post *
Five minutes to Event >>>
Sato was in his office as usual, he had just come from an Intelligence meeting that had proved less that fruitful when his Adjutant, Captain Nia Lemond entered:
"Admiral, we need to move you to a safe location immediately."
"What are you talking about ?" Sato asked, about to take a sip of his tea.
"Admiral, there is a shock-wave approaching that will .... Admiral, please ...." she said, taking the cup from him and helping him to his feet, although he needed no help, even at his age, "Will you 'STOP' being so bloody stubborn just for once and do as you are asked." Nia said in her best Motherly tone. They moved from his office off the Command Center and moved to the secure emergency area, as the door sealed behind them both could feel the force-fields that snapped into being around them. On the bulkhead above the door a clock was ominously counting down the remaining minute. Nia asked Sato to sit down in the padded seat and allow her to strap him in, he fussed at her but allowed her to fasten the straps before dropping into the one remaining seat. She was pulling the belt around her waist when the lights went out !
Fifteen Hours Later >>>
"You must remain in your seat Admiral, or you'll be injured more than you are now." someone was saying as he tried to rise, eyes flicking around the room, taking in the scene of utter carnage ... Bodies of the deceased had been moved to one side, but the blood was still where they had died 'hopefully quickly' Sato thought sadly. Whatever had occurred was on a scale never before witnessed by a Starbase, he had no clue as to what had happened, nor did he know if this room was the only surviving part of the four kilometer tall structure, but either way, he needed to get out of this room and find out.
"My Adjutant, she was over there ?" he said, eyes darting around the room.
"If you are referring to the Captain, she is in a bad way, possible spinal and internal injuries, she wasn't strapped into the crash seat when we were hit unfortunately."
"How long before she can be attended ?"
"We have no idea Admiral, at this point we can't even open the door." .....
Day Two - Event Plus Thirty Four Hours >>>
With Nia Lemond in the Medical Center, her prognosis, a full recovery, Sato got to work.
"Find the Section Admiral, find everyone ranked Commodore or above and have them up here. I do not care what it takes, find them."
"Admiral, we are getting information requests from dozens of Diplomats and visiting Dignitaries asking when they can return to their Home-worlds ....." the woman said.
"Do we have the information they are requesting Commander ?" Sato asked.
"No Admiral."
"Then kindly ask they return to their respective Embassies and they will be called in due course. Until then, ensure the Command Levels are restricted to Star Fleet Personnel only." he went to his office and moved behind his desk to stand close to the full-length windows that made up the outer wall. The stars were moving too fast, much too fast in his opinion for them to survive their ordeal, but he would hold out hope that they would do just that, as the alternative was too horrific to contemplate. Would they survive ? he had no idea, but they would try, that was certain, they would try ..........
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Andae Blakus
Moderator ..
Commander 1C
Registered: Oct 17, 2007 22:48:27 GMT
Posts: 1,447
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Post by Andae Blakus on Apr 27, 2017 13:40:27 GMT
+32 hours (in Ops - nearly a couple hours before the staff meeting)
Blakus had hung around Ops long enough to catch a glimpse of the Section Admiral and others, but didn't like the idea of waiting around another 2 hours at which time Admiral Tetsutaro - he understood - would be holding a staff briefing.
Still holding out hope that he'd run into an officer from the Raven or someone else he may know - making their way to the staff briefing or otherwise visiting Ops for whatever reason - he hovered by the main exit for a while, which was half shaken loose from its fittings, the plexiglass smashed and shattered and... red fluid, in places interlaced with the fragments, shards of pseudo-glass through which scarlet coursed and dripped.
The decided alienation he felt from this as well as the fact no one of note - as far as his person went in any case - was showing up, made up his mind for him he'd rather be elsewhere on the Starbase (or in whatever place of it might be accessible); perhaps he could lend a helping hand; perhaps... perhaps there was a ship close by that needed assistance.
+35 hours (near docking ring - during/after staff meeting)
Of course, he'd prefer to get to the Raven - and that as soon as possible - but she was stranded - or may as well have been for all the access he had of her - the other side of the dock, and there was no way through the concourse that ringed and looked out on the cavernous, dusty blue-cerulean space of the abyssal dock, by which he might gain access to the Raven's vestibule. The reason being, a supporting girder in a roof section of the concourse had collapsed, shearing itself through the ceiling in a horrific shriek - or so it was reported - and had brought itself and much duro-plasteel down upon unsuspecting civilians, Starfleet officers and enlisteds, medical attendants seeing to the already-needy...
With that route blocked, he decided simply to stroll along the nearest section of available dock perimeter, where he believed he'd approach first the USS Maracanda, but once again was scuppered; yet another obstacle was before him, but nothing formed as the result of a physical rupture in the material of the station, rather the dock perimeter was blocked at this point by a blastdoor... quarantined by the looks of it - four guards standing, one of them holding forth a hand to warn him back and with the hand of his other arm pointing at a flashing green symbol (one in a line of other similarly colour-coded warning lights on the wall that'd been brought down across the docking ring at this point). The green flashing light cautioned silently and piercingly, 'Thalaron Contamination'.
He walked up to the quarantine guards, "On the Maracanda? Thalaron?"
"Yes, sir."
"I'm going in." Sir... was the warning intonation. "I'm going through this pointless airlock, crewman; I'm putting on a hazmat suit, or an EVA suit, whatever - Give me a suit!" They finally acquiesced and he was on his way through the quarantine blastdoor and up into the vestibule onto the supposedly infected USS Maracanda.
"Curious," he bashed his tricorder in the dimmed corridors of the lifeless ship, it blurting out electronic squeals in protest, like the device of that 20th century televisual notary in the sci-fi entertainment consumption program the name of which now escaped him... But Blakus - when once checking historical records of the 22nd century, had found that Captain Archer of the first warp 5 vessel had once encountered a man who'd had an uncanny resemblance to the eccentric 20th century notary with his holographic tricorder... Or was the sidekick the hologram? Hmm... -
He was cut off abruptly from his musings as his tricorder was again squealing at him. As it'd first appeared, the computer core of the Maracanda was continuing to power up, way past what was required of it by the El Salvador when that ship had used its systems to establish a link to the Maracanda - no... the computer core of the Maracanda was powering up, and at a speed not possible considering the only-recent activation of the warp core, which was at nominal lowest power level. As the engineer neared the computer core, he was able to eliminate all doubt: thalaron, somehow, was responsible by its own agency for powering up the Maracanda's drive.
In the darkness of the deserted ship, Blakus threw his hands up, and soon found himself wanting to get out of there. What could be the thalaron's source?
* * *
Before he took his perhaps over-hasty flight, a thought occurred to him: the Maracanda's computer core would still be wired into its link - via a transmission that'd seeked to activate that core from a point outside the station - to the USS El Salvador. It was Blakus's understanding the vessel was still outside the station, thus the datalink (not yet degraded) should still be aligned with the El Salvador's position as its position relative to the station only underwent minute if constant change. He may be able to communicate with the ship using the datalink.
"USS El Salvador, this is Commander Blakus of the USS Raven. Pardon my indiscretion. I am on the USS Maracanda, and have found a residue of thalaron in the computer core... Say, your vessel couldn't have been carrying anything like that, in storage, a medical specimen perhaps? That somehow found its way into the data stream?" He thought it (extremely) unlikely, and it made him think, just what kind of region of space were they travelling through?
<Tag El Salvador (this will be during (or could be after) the command staff's meeting)>
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CSS
Command Staff ..
Registered: Apr 27, 2003 15:54:40 GMT
Posts: 63
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Post by CSS on May 1, 2017 11:57:44 GMT
*** EMERGENCY MEETING ***
In Attendance
FLAG RANKED OFFICERS & FEDERATION DIGNITARIES
COMMAND CENTER STAR-BASE FORTY SEVEN ..... EVENT DAY TWO ..... Starbase Velocity : 0.196c ..... Distance Travelled : 7.19 x 109 Kilometers .....
~~~~~ ooo000ooo ~~~~~ Gheskori > The meeting organised by Tetsutaro progressed, the diplomatic attaches the most vocal in their remonstrations, with demands that the flag officers do something to arrest Starbase 47's seemingly inexorable descent into the unknown. As Sato spoke and answered the interminable questions that were forever rising in volume, Ghes espied first Admiral Torek and then Commodore Savot entering at the back of the room and standing against the wall (the table was packed).
Eventually, Sato gave Ghes the floor, and he stood at the head of the table, the Intelligence Director shifting his seat to Ghes's right.
The Denobulan opened his mouth to speak but it wasn't long - amidst accusations, declamations from others - before a civilian elected representative of the promenade's tradesmen was on his feet hurling abuse at the Denobulan. Ghes nodded briefly to security staff at the set of double doors and quite roughly ejected him from the conference room. Ghes felt sorry for the rep slightly - he was acting in the best interests of his fellow businessmen.
"Please. Please... bear with me, bear with us all." He waved down the hectoring civilians, non-Starfleet Fed personnel, and others who took up the majority of the table with aides' assistance, "All Starfleet personnel throughout this base, carry with them the same concerns as you, the same fears that the Federation may be lost to us forever, and that the Federation may consider us lost to them. We're in uncharted territory here..." - literally, he thought. "We're all potential cast-aways, and yet, as is natural, you look to us, the exploratory-military arm of our civilisation for guidance, and we shall do our absolute best to inform you, lead you, return you to Federation space... But you have to give us a chance to get our bearings. You have to give us the time in which we can formulate our ideas, and, at this moment, you have to listen to what we have to say before you ask your questions."
There was a distinct absence of vocalisation for a while; Ghes frowned as he retook his seat: he hadn't intended that they should follow his advice quite so stringently.
"I'll get them out of here. Put them on break," Captain Miak, Sr., father of a marine stationed on the Enzio, decided with a sigh.
Ghes concurred, "Clear the room," he ordered, and stood at the head of the table again in a room now devoid of all except Torek, Savot, Tetsutaro and several other flag-ranked officers, amongst them Admiral Brasidas and (the now cyclopaean) Admiral Veblen.
"Gentlemen," he nodded, a smile not quite breaking on his usually animated and uplifted face; it was instead beset by shadows, ever lengthening as the Starbase coursed by at high speed some distant blue giant star, rapid shadows sweeping the room otherwise lit with dusty starlight. Was he trying to smile, or was he trying not to weep? seeing at how few Admirals and Commodores were amongst them all?
"Take a seat, please." He sat and shifted about and stared at his PADDs, trying to seem busy and not at all distracted but giving the opposite impression.
Torek > Torek walked around the horseshoe shaped large table comprising of the remaining Flag Officers and Federation Dignitaries representing almost thirty Worlds. After paying his respects to his Stepfather, Admiral Sato Tetsutaro, he took his place next to Section Admiral Gheskori. The only other Admiralty present were Matthew Reynolds, Veblen and Brasidas, also invited to the meeting was the Federations sole Representative, Lieutenant Colonel Aeryn Tavik ... He looked around the table, recognising the majority of the Dignitaries, representatives from Worlds that work closely with the Federation, along with some newer Races. Everyone was at this point talking among themselves, and he was slightly surprised that none of the Dignitaries or Representatives were demanding answers, which in his opinion was just as well, given they had very little information to pass on.
"How is the Raven fairing my Son." Sato asked quietly, a hand resting on Carl's knee.
"Well, considering what could have become of her." Carl replied, "There are issues obviously, but nothing that we can't overcome, given time."
"Ahh, time ... Indeed." the aged Admiral said thoughtfully, he turned to the Commanding Officer of the El Salvador, "Commodore, I believe you accomplished a feat of monumental levels in getting your vessel back with us after being carried on the shock-wave alone. You must be extremely proud of your Officers and Crew for their endeavours ?" Savot > Savot had been permitted entry into the immensely crowded conference room following confirmation of his credentials and he’d quickly slid out of the way to a space on the wall after establishing eye contact with Section Admiral Gheskori to let him know the Vulcan had not only arrived, but stood ready to support him as needed in this chaotic flurry. Savot hadn’t faulted them their fear-driven behaviour, but it was nonetheless unhelpful and unfair to their Denobulan leader. The Commodore waited at the wall with his hands clasped behind his back patiently as the civilian presence was ushered from the room, a physical showing that none of the Starfleet personnel felt they were ‘above’ the civilians in terms of priority though critical business was in dire need of being discussed.
He then made his way to join the others at the table, taking his place where the few admirals present tapered off into officers of lower flag rank. The Vulcan’s right eyebrow arched very slightly for an instant as he recognized the admiral he’d sat beside as Admiral Johun, the Andorian officer who had served on the tribunal evaluating the circumstances of the El Salvador-B’s loss. Savot’s hearing picked up much of the separate conversations taking place around the table, and brought his focus to Admiral Sato when he was addressed by the wizened officer, the Vulcan dipping his head in a polite bow at the man’s compliment:
"I am indeed, as ever, heartened by both the ingenuity and dedication of the El Salvador crew. I calculated that all vessels would be best served by our attempting to weather the shock-wave from outside the docking bays where both quick thinking on the part of my Engineer and piloting by my First Officer kept us more intact than statistical probability would have supported. I regret only those lives I did not safeguard sufficiently; and resign myself to doing my utmost to honour their sacrifice."
Torek > "You are too modest Commodore." Tetsutaro said, smiling, "I think Gentlemen that we should begin ?" Sato asked, eyes falling upon the Section Admiral ...
Gheskori > At this point Ghes noticed that several berobed civilian figures were still seated at the table, seemingly fast asleep. Had they really grown so bored by his answers to their endless queries, or had they exhausted themselves? "Distinguished guests." Ghes waited as gradually one of them stirred. "Out!" Jerked awake by the aural assault their colleague had just received, they all shuffled their way out of the conference room.
Torek > "I think we need to look at our situation from a long-term point of view. I had my Operations Manager do some checking with what little technology we had at our disposal once we were docked ....." Torek said as the sleepers filed out of the room ans Tetsutaro instructed Security Personnel to keep the doors closed unless otherwise instructed, "At the velocity we are travelling, we must face the fact that we are going to be a damn long way from any know Starbase by the time we can slow enough to make a difference. From what we know thus far, and I'm sure Commodore Savot will be able to confirm, it will take us approximately forty five days to bring the Starbase to a stop .... By that time I calculate we will be somewhere in the vicinity of Omega Centuri ....."
He paused, allowing this information to sink in, then continued:
"If we assume this information is accurate, and if we 'assume' we will have full thruster capability in the next seventy two hours, and keep them at optimum output for the duration, we should come to a stop in NGC 5139, in the Constellation of Centaurus, approximately, fifteen THOUSAND eight hundred light years from our start point ... I don't need to point out the obvious, but it needs to be said now so no-one is under any misconceptions of our situation .. Travelling at maximum warp, allowing for cool-down periods for the cores, it will take roughly, twenty YEARS travel time to the Sol System. This is all speculation of course, going off what sparse information we have been able to gather, and with the Raven's sensors possibly corrupt, I could be way off. but we need to face a simple fact .... We are not going home anytime soon !"
He sat back, watching the faces of those gathered around the table.
Savot > Savot listened attentively as Admiral Torek gave the situation overview, nodding silently in agreement until he was addressed, at which point he awaited the opportunity to indeed speak his corroboration of Torek's data, "Our long range sensors were only just receiving accurate telemetry again before I transported here but our readings concur with Admiral Torek's assessment. The earlier we could begin to counter our inertia, the greater the distance we could subtract from our final stopping point, but I estimate it would only be a matter of approximately 500 light years. I feel it unwarranted to place undue strain on both vessels and station given the current structural integrity damage to our entire group. As we near the end of the estimated 45 days it may be more feasible to attempt to aid the halting of Starbase 47 via tractor beams of any vessels sufficiently repaired to do so, but this would also depend on the hull stability of the starbase itself at that time. I believe it also prudent to prepare our utmost for an extended separation from Federation space. Our bulk matter and replicator energy stores are not likely to be critical for several weeks or perhaps months, but we can extend their availability if we begin even minor rationing immediately, and I would recommend space be allocated on the station for extensive hydroponics bays to extend food supplies as well as additional oxygen production."
Gheskori > Ghes nodded pensively, fingertips tapping his lips, "Admiral Veblen, you had something to say?"
"Yes, Admiral." The newly cyclopaean Veblen looked at Savot and them all, "Concerning hydroponics bays and things of that ilk, extra space may be at a premium. As I understand has been happening on the USS El Salvador, and on other ships in and outside of the Starbase, the number of dead or injured is filling up the cargo bays, other places... You may all have seen that the Starbase has had to eject many bodies into space and continues to do so. However, the number of bodies being found pile up faster than the... processing facilities can work them through and eject them from the base. That, in addition to the number of collapsed internal partitions and bulkheads cutting off and occluding corridors, shrinks the volume in which, for example, we may work to produce extra food and oxygen."
Savot > Savot dipped his head acknowledging Veblen's assessment of the casualty situation, "Indeed our losses had been straining our storage capacity just prior to my departing the El Salvador; I instructed Commander Irae to begin using transporter facilities to dematerialize the deceased, recording an image of their individual patterns from the buffer visualization screen to utilize later as memorial tags. Starbase 47 may be able to use transporters in the same manner."
Gheskori > "One of many obstacles to overcome, Admiral Veblen," Ghes responded, then nodded to Savot, "Thank you, Commodore." He addressed them all again, "Regarding the slowing of the station... Am I right in saying that if we don't take any action at all the Starbase will continue on at its present velocity, so that we'd never stop unless we hit something just as massive and... entirely elastic?"
There were affirmative nods. "Then we 'have' to employ some method of slowing the Starbase... As Fleet Admiral Torek says, the theoretical best we can do, using the thrusters, is to stop the Starbase in 45 days. I agree with Commodore Savot that until we're sure of the base's structural integrity we can't risk arresting velocity too violently; we'll ascertain which of our ships are the most functional and, when they're able to operate under their own power, have them exit the dock and start in on the base with tractor beams, ramping up beam intensity when the ship COs feel it's safe to do so."
"Long-range sensors confirmed as online, sirs," an aide spoke from the doorway, admitted by the security guards.
Ghes thanked the woman as she left, and spoke to the others, "Let's set about getting star fixings; confirm our position, velocity vector... Map the space we're passing through and, eventually, see what's out there." He leaned forward and tried not to look grave, "Anything on latest casualties?"
Torek > Carl picked up one of the myriad of PADD's on the table in front of the three highest ranking Officers and opened a screen:
"As Admiral Veblen has pointed out, things are not good ... I have sent Commander Valente down to the Alpha Promenade to oversee things. she's yet to get a thorough report up here but from what little information we 'have' got, there are very high numbers of fatalities. I think we can conservatively estimate the death toll to reach the low tens of thousands before we're done." he said, picking up another PADD, "As for our current velocity, best we can tell, we are moving at 0.196c so roughly 3,525,600 kilometers per hour. We will need to establish which groups of thrusters around the Starbase circumference are working best and align the 'base so they are pointing in our direction of travel. If we begin at 70% continuous thrust it will make a dint, albeit a small one admittedly, but anything more could see systems damaged beyond what we can cope with, and no thrusters means only one of two things, this place is going to become a true generation ship, and we would have to admit the likelihood that any ships capable of warp could eventually be 'commandeered' by malcontents to head back the way we came, despite the daunting odds of return."
He knew he was being fatalistic, but they had to face the fact of every feasible possibility.
Savot > Savot paused for a brief moment, hesitating to mention the thought that just sprang to mind, however unwanted, "I offer pre-emptive apology for even proposing the following, but under the circumstances it may warrant consideration to demolecularize the station's remaining casualties... and recycle the component material to supplement the surplus replicator bulk matter." The vulcan was not sure even he could make that call, and would be far from surprised if the suggestion failed to make him any friends among those gathered, but he felt compelled to bring any potential course of action he could conceive to the attention of the overall Commanding Officer for his consideration.
Gheskori > While solemn before, Ghes felt himself plumbing new depths of despair as he contemplated Savot's suggestion. Though immediately after experiencing the horror the suggestion invoked in him, he realised he had to view the matter from an 'objective' standpoint - as best as could be approximated in any case, given this unique situation had plunged each person into individual crisis however mild, each still recoiling from the initial impact, psychologically if not physically.
He nodded, "It's something we should consider, and could put into action once we've established the numbers of bodies that we could possibly dispose of by spacing, that is, we'd decide how many bodies to keep when we have something approaching a final count. Then the feasibility and desirability of keeping the bio-matter for our use, can be compared to what may be the more efficient and resource-saving solution of sending them the way of the airlock."
It sounded cold, too detached. "True," Veblen spoke, "The place we may end up once the Starbase has been slowed may have abundant resources of the type we'd require... To be found in suns, planets, nebulae..." There were muted sounds of agreement and subdued nods around the table.
Ghes moved matters forward, "We should ascertain which of our ships are the most space-worthy. That will be to varying degrees, I imagine, though perhaps some are relatively undamaged?"
"When we've slowed the Starbase enough - via thrusters, tractors, or both - such that we won't be leaving the sector we're then in say in the next year, then we should perhaps send our most space-worthy ships on... survey missions, in which we can map out that eventual destination sector. Hopefully the Starbase will be brought to a final halt within whatever sector that may be, and then..." They would be stranded. But less stranded than if the Starbase kept plummeting into the deep unknown.
Torek > Carl could see tensions mounting:
"I think we have to admit ignorance here, at least for the time being." Carl said, not wanting the meeting to erupt into something uncontrollable, as he could see some people in the room were already muttering among themselves. He stood, raising a hand to get the quiet he needed, "Commodore Savot is looking at this from a purely practical point of view, one which, as half Vulcan, I can thoroughly appreciate. We also need to remember that we have no way of knowing at this stage 'what' resources will be available to us once we finally come to a stop, no-one has been out as far s we are going to end up, and the information we do have in the 'Base computer banks is sparse to say the least. So before anyone starts to condemn any idea's put fourth, maybe we should deal with our immediate problems, we know the death toll is going to be in the tens of thousands, we've already confirmed this extrapolating the numbers thus far. If push comes to shove, as the saying goes, we'll store them in the core shaft I came up here in. for now, I suggest we 'ALL' look at moving forward." he looked at Gheskori, who's expression was as neutral as it could be.
Gheskori > Ghes was rubbing his temples, spoke quietly, "There's so much more to discuss, gentlemen, but I am finding it hard to focus."
Torek > Carl could see that everyone was tired to various degrees, some more than others, and in their sleep-deprived condition they would struggle, he looked at Gheskori then spoke:
"OK Ladies and Gentlemen. I think we have covered a lot but obviously we will need to reconvene in due course to review our situation. I'm sure there are countless questions, both from Federation Personnel and from the gathered Dignitaries. At this stage it is clear we don't have answers or quick-fix solutions, or at least not quick enough for our liking. We have a few things that can be looked into right away: We should check where we are regarding usable vessels, regardless of size. Anything beyond repair should be gutted for usable parts, I think we should find out what Engineering people we have both on ships and the 'base itself and get them to work. As stated, Life Support and Food are priorities. So if anyone has anything else they want to bring up before we adjourn, please feel free ......" he said, sitting back down.
After a further hour, in which Dignitaries and Officers brought forth their growing concerns, Section Admiral Gheskori finally brought the meeting to a close. The dignitaries and Representatives from numerous worlds filed out, each hoping to contact their Homeworld in due course, despite the Councils assurance that even using sub-space carriers it would take months, possibly years to get word back to the Federation depending on when they were able to stem their headlong flight into the unknown ... Carl could see Gheskori was extremely tired and in need of rest, but they all were, and he knew the man wouldn't appreciate the suggestion of sleep, so with a nod he left the room to hopefully return to the Raven ... *** Meeting Concluded ***
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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: 6,160
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Post by Carl Torek on May 1, 2017 13:13:22 GMT
..... EVENT DAY FOUR ..... Starbase Velocity : 0.228c ..... Distance Travelled : 5.87 x 106 Kilometers .....
It was clear now that the loss of life was beyond anything they had initially predicted As the hundreds of lower levels of the four kilometer tall Starbase were accessed they found bodies strew throughout each level
Some had survived, and these were finally being treated as Medical Personnel became available
In one week, Command hoped to be able to begin stabilising the rotation of the massive structure Once they have achieved this, extensive checks will be carried out of the myriad of manoeuvring thrusters before eventually bringing them on-line They will increase the thrust from zero in only five percent increments and will shut down if any serious structural issues arise
ooo000ooo In the last two days Carl had spent the majority of his time in the Command Center ... The dead had now been cleared from the upper fifty levels and from the Dome itself. Each of the deceased had been sealed in airtight body bags before being ejected from the Starbase. various clergy among the numerous Races had demanded rites be performed, alas this was simply not practical, but their demand that bodies be preserved in vacuum containers for possible recovery at a later date was ceded to. No-one expected to be able to bring the deceased back aboard, but the gesture eased the stress among those concerned. Now they had reestablished external long-range sensors and internal communications, everyone able was working on where they were, velocity, possible final destination ... There were countless actions that needed to be undertaken, but priority was to life support and food replication. He had spoken to Calli Valente on Alpha Promenade, thankful that she was safe and well. He had been in contact with commander Wedlerson who was currently in charge of the Raven and was waiting to hear from Commander Blakus, who's last known location was the Docking Ring heading towards a contaminated vessel designated USS Maracanda. He had been seen entering in an environmental suit, exiting hours later without speaking to anyone around him, his whereabouts were unknown at this point but people were looking for him. They now knew that they had seven Star Ships inside the Dome, of which only two were in any condition for space, the USS Enzio, and the USS Raven-C,but both were in need of extensive repair before even they could venture beyond the dome, the USS El Salvador was still holding station a mere three hundred meters beyond the massive opening that once housed the doors. The Starbase was rotating, so the ship only came into view every fifty two minutes. Carl would have preferred to have the ship within the confines of the Dome, but understood the logic of keeping it outside for the present. Gheskori and Torek would leave the decision in Commodore Savot's hands unless the ship was needed urgently. Long range sensors, even though still not one hundred percent operational due to power restrictions throughout the Starbase, could still pick up the rapidly retreating Sol System ... They had left Federation Space far far behind now and were approximately twenty billion seven hundred million kilometers from home, moving away at above an astonishing two hundred million kilometers per hour, the need to begin reducing that rate was obvious ! ..... "Admiral, more updates from the lower levels coming in." "What do we have Lieutenant ?" "Nothing from levels sixteen twenty one through seventeen hundred, but our people are relaying via communicators. Makes for feedback Admiral, but best we can do at present." she answered. "We need to get anyone qualified into the main levels containing the fusion generators, deuterium Fuel Storage, environmental, and gyro-stabiliser control. Once we begin to slow the rotation we'll need to be sure the gyro's and inertial dampers can keep us stable, otherwise we're going to to end up as so much 'soup' on the bulkheads." "Aye, Admiral." the woman said, tasting the vomit rising in her throat and fighting to hold it back. He turned as Tetsutaro approach: I think it prudent that we evacuate all functional vessels 'before' we begin to impede the rotational element. We should also eject all non-functional craft as their presence will cause unforeseen destruction once they are no longer moving with the Starbase itself. We can have the active vessels hold them in tractors, the components aboard those destroyed ships will be needed to facilitate repairs throughout those space-worthy vessels I believe." "Let's see which ships we can use first Admiral. The last thing we need is to send someone beyond the confines and their drive systems falter." "Agreed." Sato said with a slight bow, "It is fortunate that we can still see light at the end of our proverbial tunnel." the aged Admiral said contemplatively as he moved away. Carl watched his Stepfather go ..........
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Allan Hood
Lieutenant
Only real security: a reserve of knowledge, experience, and ability.
Registered: Dec 4, 2014 4:19:10 GMT
Posts: 147
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Post by Allan Hood on May 6, 2017 2:46:59 GMT
Allan Hood kissed his sleeping wife and baby daughters after changing into his uniform. He watched them sleep a moment, feeling slight relief that they are finally at the starbase. Hood looked forward to his next assignment, but, with an element of trepidation considering the dangers of having one’s family aboard a starship in regions unknown.
Hood checked his uniform, said a morning prayer and blessing over his family, and stepped through the doors as they whispered open.
The corridors never slept. Shift changes, unforeseen duty rooster modifications, and minor emergencies hid around every corner. Every now and then someone would be walking a bit faster than the others, dodging traffic for some unique reason, but, all-in-all the starbase was running smoothly.
Hood felt as if he was in limbo waiting for his new assignment. He stayed in uniform when on the starbase, not feeling comfortable enough to unwind while still docked. Unofficially scanning each deck for security issues, he made his own personal beat, knowing all too well that he doesn’t have any jurisdiction, especially when off duty.
Finally, Hood reached the viewport that peered directly over to the El Salvador. The Excalibur Class ship seemed eager to leave drydock. The updated Constitution class seemed full of potential. Like its namesake Excalibur, it waited patiently to be pulled from its stone. Rumor had it that this was the ship he was going to be assigned to, but, nothing was in stone. Still, he couldn’t help but admire the ship.
The security chief was happy that he may be stationed on a science vessel. In the Academy, Hood’s curiosity always kept him science and engineering-minded, especially being in Starfleet, yet, he always seemed to drift toward security. The thrill of discovery and exploration always motivated Hood, however, when an emergency broke out, Hood couldn’t feel content at a science or engineering station, even on a daily basis; he always felt a strong sense of responsibility for his crew and others around him. He had to join the security division. Hood turned and entered the turbolift.
“Bridge,” he said automatically, "I mean, Ops."
Hood planned to ride to the operations center for a peek, missing the routine that accompanied an officer on duty. The turbolift hummed quietly and habitually to the station’s cerebral cortex, interrupted briefly by a surprising reverberation.
As the doors shushed open, Hood leaned forward and let the sounds of the command and control facility wash over him. Expectantly, a command officer sat in the command chair, reading a PADD that was just brought to his attention. Security seemed to be double checking officer reports. Engineering appeared to be running an unknown, probably unnecessary, system diagnostic.
But, the Science officers kept his attention; they didn’t have the cool, calm, collected look of confident Starfleet science officers. They seemed worried, making distraught faces of confusion, and questioning other readings from neighboring stations and counterparts.
Hood fought the urge to step over and mitigate their fears, remembering at once that he wasn’t on duty at the moment.
Admiral Tetsutaro, Head of Federation Intelligence, stepped off the turbolift across from Hood.
"Lock the Star Base down … NOW!" he ordered. "Evacuate all personnel from sections Beta through Delta, increase shielding to maximum on that side of the ‘Base. If we have any vessels that are able to depart, then get them out, if now we need tractors on anything staying. It is possible we will not survive the initial impact of the blast wave, but should we do so, we need to be able to react to the many injuries and inevitable deaths with due haste."
In that moment, training and prayers took over.
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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: 6,160
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Post by Carl Torek on May 7, 2017 19:11:52 GMT
*** Please Note : We have moved forward eight days ***
..... EVENT DAY TWELVE ..... Starbase Velocity : 0.205c ..... Distance Travelled : 6.17 x 107 Kilometers ..... Finding new deceased had slowed substantially over the last week. Something everyone was grateful for. Hundreds of injured still covered most available deck space and both levels of the Promenade shops were filled to the brim as emergency wards or triage centers ... More would die, that was inevitable, and serious thought was now being given to Commodore Savot's suggestion for raw materials ... (see Emergency Meeting post above) ... It was now confirmed that they had only four Starships at their disposal: USS El Salvador-B USS Enzio USS Raven-C USS Maracanda The latter of which still required a new warp core but was otherwise space-worthy. Of the other seven Starships that had been docked at the time of the catastrophe, three were totally destroyed and would be useless even for spares, therefore it was decided they would be broken up to use as a fuel source. Three would be used to provide replacement components for the working vessels, and one, the USS Western, was only partially completed and as such of no use given there were no means by which her final outfitting could be completed. ..... Carl was sat in the Raven's Conference Room behind the Bridge, his seat up against the panoramic room-length window. He was watching the worker-bee shuttles, or at least, what remained of them, as they conducted a ballet of movement in the enormous Dock. looking up to his right he could see the four hundred by five hundred meter gaping hole that was once the massive doors, now open to space as they had nothing to effectively plug the hole with at present. Beyond, conducting an intricate almost gymnastic feat was the USS El Salvador,holding position beyond the dome. The Starship was constantly adjusting her speed and heading relative to the still rotating and careering Star Base, to remain in position. he silently complimented her Helmsman. The door opened and Calli entered: "We've just had word from Command, they are ready to begin the first attempt at slowing our rotation. They have ensured artificial gravity generators are fully capable of keeping everyone on the ground, so to speak." "Thank you Calli ..." he said, motioning to an empty seat, which she dropped into, "How are you holding up ?" "As well as can be expected." she replied, eyes roaming the dock, "Better than some by far, though I'm not too sure they were not the luckier one." she said quietly. "Don't talk like that Calli." he said to his stepsister, "As long as we have hope then ......" "I'm sorry, it's just seeing the numbers of dead is taking it's toll, last count we were already passing eleven thousand, it's terrible Carl, there are Families split up, Children alone ...." "I hear you commandeered one of the Conference Centers and had bunks put in there, filled it with Children. You're becoming somewhat of a saviour to the lost." he said, a wry grin forming as he saw her pained expression ease a little. "You're needed in the Command Center." she said, getting up and kissing him on the forehead ..... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It took no less than three turbo-lift changes before he could reach Deck Eight. As he entered he could see people working feverishly at consoles on both levels around the circumference of the room. He could see Gheskori and Tetsutaro stood opposite, hands on the railing trying to take in everything that was happening, he approached them: "Ahh, Carl, good, we can begin I think ?" Sato said, receiving a nod of confirmation from Gheskori, "Communications, open a channel to the El Salvador please." "El Salvador is standing by Admiral." "On screen if you will Lieutenant." Sato said, looking up at one of the large screens suspended from the ceiling. =^= Commodore Savot .. Are you ready to monitor our progress ? =^= =^= Confirmed Admiral .. We are halting our geosynchronous positioning and pulling ahead of your trajectory to ten thousand meters now=^=, moments later Savot confirmed his ship was in position to monitor and report any changes. With the El Sal now directly ahead of the Starbase Sato had the Comm closed then nodded to Carl: "Bring manoeuvring thrusters on-line please, zero thrust ...." Torek ordered, then having received confirmation the were ready he continued, "Twenty percent counter-rotational thrust on my mark .... Mark !" he knew he had to be very very patient, the angular inertial rotation of such a massive structure in space could cause the whole four kilometer length to begin slowing at differing rates, forming torque stresses that may eventually be too much for the structure and ruptures would begin to form, until the whole thing ripped itself apart ! The four kilometer diameter of the Dome, had a circumference of twelve point five seven kilometers, and the main docking port came into view once every thirty minutes. If they were having any effect that time would very slowly begin to increase, only by the smallest of fractions, but that was all they could risk, until eventually the gaping maw of the docking port was directly facing the El Salvador ... But it would take time, and a lot of it .......... < Tag : Gheskori / Savot / All >
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Allan Hood
Lieutenant
Only real security: a reserve of knowledge, experience, and ability.
Registered: Dec 4, 2014 4:19:10 GMT
Posts: 147
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Post by Allan Hood on May 8, 2017 23:07:04 GMT
The past eight days blurred together. Hood saw few miracles and many tragedies. Thank YHVH that is family survived with minor problems, compared to others on board. The first few days were the most tragic, his worst fears realized through the misfortune of others. In the worst situations, whole families suffered and eventually died. Good officers, if they survived, were traumatized beyond understanding. He saw survivors in situations where the probability of endurance were nearly impossible and saw death and destruction when survival was expected. Everyone was a medic; the suffering were everywhere.
The most recent days were spent overhauling force field generators and keeping weapons and shields online, now with the departed returned to the depths of space. Hood spent more and more time working alongside engineers rather than emergency medical holograms. Hood hadn’t see his family the last couple days, only taking the time to check in on them visually at a console here and there, risking reprimand. But, Hood figured, considering the circumstances, he’d be more understood. Or, would a minor infraction now carry greater emphasis? Either way, Hood figured it was worth the risk.
While helping to repair damaged phaser arrays on spacewalks; many of the emitters needed replaced and were unsalvageable. Power fluctuated between life-support and bulkhead forcefields. Many emergency bulkheads failed to engage, tossing crew members and families into the abyss.
“Is today Purim?” Hood asked himself while trying to clear his mind of all the destruction. He realized he’d worked straight through Sabbath, missing the promised check-in he gave his wife and daughters.
“Am Yisrael chai..” Hood muttered to himself within his helmet. Hood remembered the main teaching of Purim, which all things work together for good to them that love Elohim, to them who are the called according to his purpose. The coincidence that Purim fell during this horrible incident made Hood shutter and feel some hope, wresting with mixed emotions. The holy day is meant to celebrate the survival of Elohim’s people in spite of staggering odds and plans against them. A day marking a historical event, expected to produce great tragedy, turned around to be a time of great rejoicing.
Hood looked forward to celebrating the survival of the rest of his crew members and rejoicing at the completion of a functioning and secure starbase.
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Gheskori
Command Staff ..
Commanding Officer Personnel Officer Trivia Officer
Section Admiral
USS Enzio
Registered: May 2, 2008 23:32:36 GMT
Posts: 1,538
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Post by Gheskori on May 9, 2017 12:21:28 GMT
Starbase Ops...
"How long 'til a fixed frame of reference in respect of our rotation, Ensign?"
"At current rate, sir, the Starbase should be free of any rotational velocity in 1.1 days."
Ghes thanked the man and re-entered the ready room, it having only recently been cleared up from the horrendous state it'd been in immediately post-accident.
The thrusters had been firing for just short of seven hours, several cutting out and requiring immediate work to fix them or, alternatively, the corresponding thrusters the opposite side of the Starbase along its longitudinal axis had to be shut down, too (which of course slowed their progress). Despite the failures and other issues - torsional stresses, etc. along the length and breadth of the station, inertial dampener fluctuations (Ghes had felt a vibration and a wobble earlier as for a moment it'd seemed the Ops staffwas about to be catapulted into the starboard-facing wall) - despite all this, it did appear that if things continued as is then...
"Three more seven hour periods like this and we should be fine," Ghes said to himself, fetching ice water from the replicator. They were a quarter of the way there, the time 'til reappearance of the smashed bay door and the El Salvador, a grey dot against darkness, ever increasing until it would eventually approach infinity and they could glide through the abyss undisturbed by rotational elements.
Like the bay doors, the ready room door was splintered into pieces, thus the officer that approached was visible to Ghes - as he sat and sipped at his water - from his desk strewn with a number of PADDs which, like their hopes for the Starbase's rotation reduction, also seemed to approach infinity...
It was Torek, accompanied by Tetsutaro, Ghes now saw. The Admirals had been attending to other matters throughout the station in the last seven hours, for there were certainly enough of them. Gheskori smiled at the newcomers; much refreshed since the emergency conference where he'd appeared ragged and haggard, and on learning of the good progress as regards their velocity cancellation (translational was still to come; that would be the difficult part, he thought), he now felt capable to confront the myriad problems still facing them all.
* * *
"Carl, Sato, what news?" He offered them seats opposite, one of the seats slightly worse for wear - a castor-wheel broke loose as Sato attempted to sit down. Carl reported that the bodies, of which there were a mortifying number, had begun to be shifted into the central core shaft, just a few at first, but it'd turned out to be necessary; fortunately (Ghes winced), many more had saved internal space by being flushed out into external space what with failing forcefields, randomly exploding bulkheads and the like.
"Once we kill rotation, we need to start thinking about getting the other three active ships - Maracanda included - out there to begin process of slowing propagation," Ghes said, "In the same manner as we're doing with rotational thrusters, it will be a case of easy does it, as the expression goes. I've been advised that the best course of action may well indeed be to combine SB thruster power with starship tractor beams to slow us to zero velocity. We're looking ahead here perhaps, Admiral, but how soon could the Raven be made ready for tractor beam operations when the time comes?"
<Tag Torek>
"As for the Enzio. I intend to board her myself for the operation. The last I heard, my officers were still in the process of mending two of the three warp cores. We lost our port-dorsal nacelle," Ghes looked reflective. "Still, we should be spaceworthy at least for this short venture." He sighed, "It's been fifteen hours since I've last checked with the Commander on the Enzio; I should ascertain their status."
So busy had he been here, beset by casualty reports, repair schedules, power demands - which continued to fluctuate throughout the base - voiced by vociferous engineers who momentarily forgot protocol (something entirely excusable given the circumstances) - so busy had he been, he hadn't had opportunity or had even had the thought of checking in with his shipmates on the Enzio, stricken as she was, fast-recovering as she will be... Ghes, a Denobulan torn between the necessary duty to the Starbase as its CO and the wish to be amongst officers with whom he'd served for years, especially in these times when those Enzio officers were beset by disaster and short of a CO.
The Admirals departed and Ghes turned to his personal console, "Communications; patch me through to the USS Enzio, please. Starbase CO's office." The screen flickered from the Federation emblem and seal to a fuzzy image of the USS Enzio bridge. Again he felt himself smiling, though it was tinged with the obvious sorrow at seeing the Enzio's bridge's state, "Latest status report, Commander? By and by, I intend to get over there shortly... Won't be long now."
<Tag Enzio / Clark>
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Andae Blakus
Moderator ..
Commander 1C
Registered: Oct 17, 2007 22:48:27 GMT
Posts: 1,447
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Post by Andae Blakus on May 10, 2017 21:01:02 GMT
OOC: Day 12. Note, italics are dreaming sections
Blakus awoke after another disconcerting if interesting dream. He had been walking the broad thoroughfares of a city that'd then reconfigured to become the broad deck of the Starbase promenade. As he'd neared the place he recognised as O'Toole's, the scene about him had transformed again, though not merely in the way a dream does - an ever-changing landscape that one passes through, hazy at the edges, terrain emerging underfoot as one made one's way forward, blissfully unaware of unconsciousness - but in such a way that the idea of transformation itself was inherent in the dream.
The dream was about transformation. In the way the Starbase changed as he wandered through it, new scenes arriving and new objects forming and transmuting into ever newer shapes, it would seem the transformation and change was ever for the better. Bulkheads renewed and reformed, people materialised from nothingness, were pulled back through holes ripped in external bulkheads; the lighting went up, O'Toole's seemed to gleam once again ahead of him, as did several of his crewmates who he could now see through the establishment's windows.
He awoke again; realised once more he'd drifted off. He checked the chronometer and found over nine hours had passed - part of him wanted to swear, the other part felt relief that he'd managed to get so much rest, nearly double what he'd achieved in the whole time the Starbase had been cast loose in nothingness.
Rising from his long-overdue rest, he donned the freshest uniform he could find and fixed a coffee from the barely functional replicator - fortunately, white coffee no sugar was one of only three beverages it could conjure currently - before making for his quarters' exit - on the Raven.
He'd managed to get back there during the last survey by overworked base technicians who could finally inform the crew who wanted or needed to see their ship that she was safe to board again - marginally. Walking the corridors, something didn't seem right... The passages weren't strewn with any rubble, the medical staff trundling a repulsor gurney down the hall towards him bore not emergency materials for use in life-saving surgical operations, but bore strange concoctions, blue and indigo liquids the glass that contained which made it seem Andae could see his face in those oceanic depths... Neptune, a past mission, a rogue Starfleet Captain, Franks... Yes. He was still dreaming.
The incident with Franks had been part of a mission of the Galaxy class USS Raven-B, when it'd still lived, still strode the galaxy bringing light and searching for it amongst countless stars - he was aboard her now, and they were all here, all the past missions, in these hypospray vials in their rack on the CMO's repulsor lift. "May I?" he asked Dr Roach.
The CMO smiled, "By all means." Blakus took one of the vials: the Cordovin saga, Tahl El-Kamat, the insane Cordovin archaeologist hunting for his doomsday weapon, the Raven trekking after him, punishing him for his hubris after a maddening adventure of losing their minds and switching personalities, chasing through numerous star systems, finding ancient underground vaults where that weapon had been concealed by an aeons-old extinct race...
"It wasn't so bad." The CMO's intonation was grave. Blakus looked up; he realised he'd been looking at the memory exposition quite gloomily, not with - he now realised - the look of dazed recognition of memories brilliant and vital that he'd been hoping to feel.
"Perhaps it wasn't. You're right," he said to the CMO.
Roach's head shook, the CMO too lost in uncertainty, "Sometimes, we must admit that our yesterdays were never as wonderful as we like to make out... Consider our present circumstances, compare them to all we've been through in the past."
After a pause, Blakus nodded, "Perhaps some solace." Was the current situation - as SB47 hurtled across the lightyears - really any worse than the worst of what the Raven had faced before? No... (arguably). But this was the Raven-B; her adventures were consigned to history in all their shining glory. The Raven-C, beset already by disaster beyond its control, was as yet unproven. The current situation -
He woke up, on the unproven USS Raven-C. Of course, the moment he'd realised that his lucid dream was that, a dream, a shadow, a spectacular and optimistic reflection of uncertain and shadowy reality, he could only awake.
He was soon in engineering and conversing with Milyanov - his Assistant CEO had recovered from mourning over his lost partner Harton (lost to them all; she'd been a member of Blakus's team, too) - and his old friend William Bligh who'd happened to be aboard the Starbase at the time of the 'incident' - lucky him... Andae thought, and had told him as much already. The trio continued their repairs to the Raven-C's PTC system and dilithium matrix. Made a mental note: several AM containers were tilting on the edge of losing EM field stability... He'd prefer not to have the ship explode in a blinding spectacle of M/AM annihiliation within the dock as at least two others had the last 12 days...
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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: 6,160
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Post by Carl Torek on May 13, 2017 23:56:45 GMT
Event Day Thirteen :: =^= The thrusters had been working on the rotation of the Starbase for approximately twelve hours constant .. Not counting minor failures or drop in power from one system or another obviously .. The 'base is now turning at only fifty three percent of it's original rotational rate which means it should be completely stopped in another fifteen hours Admiral .. Give or take =^= =^= Thank you Lieutenant .. Keep me apprised with hourly reports please .. Torek out =^= He closed the comm to the Command Center and sat back in his chair, rubbing his eye and wondering if he should have taken the offered advice and gone down to Sick-bay to get something to help. The USS El Salvador was still holding position ahead of the careering Starbase, reporting everything to hopefully prevent a catastrophic failure before it happened. He closed his eyes, wondering if their grand plan to slow, and eventually halt the Starbase wasn't some wild pipe dream, and they would be rushing headlong through uncharted space for the foreseeable future. Thankfully, his concerns were shared, but unvoiced, obviously. He wanted the Raven out there, assisting the El Salvador, not shackled to the dock, but there was still work to be done before they could even risk moving, let alone passing through the still gaping maw left by the destroyed docking bay doors. He had to admit, he was much more relaxed now that Chloe, Bethan, and Vanessa were back aboard the ship. But he didn't have the time to spend with them that he would have liked, they understood this, and were supportive. The comm beeped bringing him out of his reflection: =^= Valente to Admiral Torek =^= =^= Go ahead Calli =^= =^= Admiral .. Sean O'Toole contacted me earlier .. It appears there are some whispers going around the Promenade .. Apparently began by the Ferengi of all people =^= =^= Whispers ? =^= he said, shaking his head. =^= Nothing too serious and nothing that can't be nipped in the bud I believe .. But they seem have the opinion that our situation was more than an accident and that we are making a preemptive move to expand the Federation =^= =^= Do they realise that at the last count there were twenty one thousand 'PLUS' fatalities because our our situation ! =^= he said, almost ready to punch the desk in frustration. =^= They seem to think we are preventing them from trade opportunities and will keep them back should any new and possibly profitable encounters ensue =^= Calli said, the annoyance obvious in her tone. =^= Get hold of that blowhard, Krall or Kryl or whatever his name is and have him brought here .. These whispers need to stop .. Now =^= =^= It's Krall Carl and he is erm 'demanding' audience with the Section Admiral himself .. Apparently anyone lesser will be deemed an insult =^= =^= Get him up here .. You come too .. Lets see just how insulting we can be .. Torek out =^= He contemplated letting Gheskori know what was going on, but given the man had more than enough on his plate without nagging Ferengi threatening him across the system, he decided to deal with it himself. He knew Andae had knack with Ferengi so contacted him and asked him to be present .... Two Hours later :: "Come in Krall, have a seat ...." Carl said amiably, ignoring the glaring contempt from the Ferengi. Andae Blakus and Calli stood towards the back of the room as he offered the man a beverage, "Slug-o-Cola, right ?" he asked, moving to the replicator and requesting the drink before the man could object. He placed the glass carefully before the Ferengi and moved around the desk to his seat, continuing to ignore the protestations and accusations spewing forth. When the man finally took a breath Carl continued, "I believe you and your brethren are somewhat displeased with the situation we find ourselves in at the moment, and believe it is the Federation that has 'manufactured' the recent catastrophe to relieve you of opportunity for profit ... Is that correct at all ?" he finished, eyebrows raised expectantly. "The Federation hierarchy 'MUST' have known there was an issue with the Nebula, why was the Ferengi Homeworld not notified, answer me that ... Huumaan !" "Sorry ?" Carl said, genuinely confused, "You are saying we knew what was coming, but 'chose' not to tell anyone, preferring to sacrifice tens upon tens of thousands of men, women, and 'CHILDREN !' to their deaths so as to annoy the pitiful Ferengi race, is that what you are saying ?" he could see Calli silently warning him to reign his annoyance in, he nodded almost imperceptibly then returned his gaze to the now ranting Ferengi. "We have allies here Huumaan." Krall spat in almost a whisper. "Fleet Admiral Torek." Carl replied, hands on his desk as he leaned forward for emphasis, "You will address me as such from here on in, Mister Krall .... Otherwise, I may, after consultation with the esteemed Officers behind you, deem it necessary to 'detain' you indefinitely, for your own protection of course, especially given the likelihood that should your 'opinions' become public knowledge, your personal safety, and that of your fellow Ferengi, and your allies, obviously, could be in some jeopardy." "I am not one of your minions Huumaan, your threats mean nothi ....." Krall began, but fell silent as Carl got up and walked around the desk. "Calli, if I could have a word with you regarding access levels for the surviving Ferengi, we'll need to do this on the Bridge. Commander Blakus, if you could entertain our guest while I am gone." "You DARE to turn your ba ..." but Carl and Calli had already left .......... < Tag : Andae >
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Allan Hood
Lieutenant
Only real security: a reserve of knowledge, experience, and ability.
Registered: Dec 4, 2014 4:19:10 GMT
Posts: 147
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Post by Allan Hood on May 14, 2017 4:33:08 GMT
The makeshift security/tactical station in Ops, which Hood occupied, occasionally flickered with a slight vibration, reminding him to hunt for a damaged ODN relay. The original comm station was down, so someone patched it temporarily through his shamble of a station.
“Communications, open a channel to the El Salvador, please,” Gheskori requested.
“El Salvador is standing by, Admiral,” Hood responded to Admiral Gheskori’s command. Lights drained from the console as the transmission established.
The phrase echoed in Hood’s mind. The irony didn’t seem to register with the rest of the crew. Why would it? His religious beliefs ran against the modern, technological age, where beings relied more on themselves and less on any deity.
Too often, it felt as if El Salvador was simply standing by. So many lives lost, crew, visitors, and children. Though Hood thanked YHVH for his family’s survival every minute, he couldn’t help think of the others who have lost everything they cared about. How are those crew members moving on?
Though Starfleet has suffered countless lost souls since its founding, this is Hood’s first real encounter with death on such a massive scale. He understood more why his father resigned from Starfleet after the Battle of Wolf 359. As an engineering ensign on the Saratoga, at such a young age, it helped explain why he never talked about it. Lee Hood made up his mind to help the then Commander Benjamin Sisko on the Defiant prototype as his last contribution to Starfleet, against the Borg. Hood didn’t learn the details of his father’s involvement in the battle until Hood read the records himself, especially, his father’s part in helping to rescue Jake Sisko, when he was passed to him by a Bolian bridge officer.
“On screen if you will, Lieutenant,” Admiral Sato Tetsutaro continued, looking up at one of the large screens suspended from the ceiling.
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