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--COMO 10-of-9 [s.lackey] 22:31, 21 Oct 2005 (EDT)
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Peagasus Revisited -- NEW STORY/MISSION
- Proposed story line started OCT 2008 by CAPT Greg Preast
- Please completed the form at http://maquis-sim.treksimms.org if you want to join in... not so much as to gain permission but so that we can contact you to obtain further information and to discuss character development.
- Story is also happening on the RP Sim mailing list, but posted here for everyone to see what is happening...
- We welcome new participants!
Prelude 1
CAPT Preast and CDR Shultz were recovering in the CO's cabin at LP Linwood following their most recent starfleet adventure.
"You know, Boss, we need a ship. We'd be so much more fleixible."
"Well, lemme do some studyin'," replied the Captain with a twinkle in his eye, and a mischievous grin. "You go on to the wardroom/briefing chamber, whatever you wanna call it."
Shultz had been around long enough to know that look meant the Skipper already had something in mind, but he would not let on to the other two officers as he entered the wardroom..
Eventually the skipper entered the wardroom, "ATTENTION ON..." began LCDR Ellison.
With a wave of his hand and a "whatever" kind of look, the Captain squashed that. "Look guys, it's just us. 'Til we get a full crew, 's'okay. Y'all ch-i-i-i-ll."
"Alright here's the game plan...XO, beer." Three puzzled faces looked back at him. "Round for all." With that the scheming started. "AYYYYYY!"
"Who here has heard of the USS PEGASUS?" asked CAPT Preast. Rob raised an eyebrow, as he and CAPT Preast had already discussed the situation. The other two officers simply shrugged.
"Some accident, lotta legal mumbo jumbo for Starfleet, landed Riker in the brig for a bit. Well, the deal is they were testing a interphase cloaking device, unbeknownst to most of the world. Something went wrong, and the ship was feared lost. The ENTERPRISE and Romulans found her phased into an asteroid into the Devolin system, Asteroid Gamma 601 to be exact. Riker and Pressman went in, retrieved the technology, and Starfleet assumed that was the end. I want that hulk. We can take her to the Badlands, and refurbish, refit..."
"Rebuild her!" exclaimed Shultz. The look on the Captain's face drew a quick apology for the interruption.
"Sometimes it's scary how well you know me." grinned the Skipper. "Now, to get her out, we need another interphase cloaking device, and I think I know where we can get one."
To Be Continued. -- Greg Preast
Prelude 2
"No, I am not going back into Starfleet," said the man, perhaps a bit to loudly even for Quark's.
The two federation officers in "science blue" flinched back at the vehemence in his voice. "Look, Chris, you are good at what you do," the tall one said, two solid pips on his collar. "You maybe the best alien relations officer to come out of the Academy since the program started."
Chris Huff, former xenopolitical relations officer of the USS Orion, drained the last of the iridescent blue drink and then look him in the eye with a sober, dark glare.
"Look, Lt. Smith," He said in a barely audible hiss. "We both know that 31 doesn't have any interest in my in-depth knowledge of Andorian municipal structure or the truth behind the recent "recalling for advisement" of the Tholian ambassador."
He let the folds of his blue science coat--the only remnant of his former uniform he wore--fall open to reveal a klingon Dragonstang disruptor strapped in a extra large shoulder holster. An Andorian ice blade was in a thigh sheath. His clothing was a hodgepodge as well. Breen leathers and a Tholian silk shirt under a security vest from the 23rd century. A closer look might have revealed that the lab coat had been tailored with an black, metallic lining that was not standard issue for science officers.
"Do they Lt. Junior Grade Jones," He looked at the other, shorter officer. "They are more interested in the skills I learned during the assignments and training that we can't talk about here."
Smith and Jones tried to cover up their frustration.
Smith started, "We don't know what you are talking about."
Jones continue, "Yes, we are here from the office of Retention and Recruiting to offer you a new assignment. We understand that you didn't get along with Capt. Riker during your time on the Orion and..."
Huff sneered. "Riker was right. We shouldn't be using assassination for political gain." He tried to get the last drop of Romulan ale from the bottle, but it dripped onto his unkempt beard. He wiped the drop away with a dirty hand.
Jones looked around, "Please, Lieutenant, keep your voice down. Nobody was trying to assassinate anyone."
"Tell that to the Nausicans."
Smith places a calming hand on the shoulder of his partner. "We realize that being used by a rogue intelligence officer who had no official authority to order you on that assignment could...disillusion you. However..."
"'No official authority'," It is terms like that that make me regret ever agreeing to be a NOC." Huff stood up, his large frame framed by the blue coat. He turned to walk away. Jones grabbed at him.
"You just can't.." A century old Type-1 handphaser was suddenly in Jones's face. They hadn't seen that on him, but the small device was about half the size of medical scanner, and while underpowered when compared to modern phasers, it was more than enough to wipe the man from existence. Jones stepped back and put his hands up. Smith's hand was on the hilt of his more modern Type 2.
"I wouldn't think about it," Huff told Smith swing his arm to point the phaser at him. "Odo made quark install weapon suppression fields. "Modern weapons won't fire."
Smith smiled, "Then you are bluffing, cause that old type 1 won't work either."
"No, it is working just find...as a distraction," Huff said, gesturing down to the to the crystal blade of the Andorian knife pressed against Jones' groin.
Smith glared. "You can't stay in here forever, and you can't hold us knife-point all night."
"Of course not," Huff grinned, putting the knife away with a flourish. The phaser vanished as well. "I am leaving now. And I suggest you, and your back ups over there at the Dabbo wheel, don't try and follow me."
Huff left a strip of lathium on the table and turned to walk out of Quarks. He was going to need a fast ship out of here before the night was through.
--Tag Anyone.
OOC: This is not deja vu. I reposted this from one of the failed reboot attempts from earlier in the year, but I liked it, and the character premise. It may not be an exact fit for this starting story arc, but sometimes beggars can't be choosers when it comes to science officers, especial those that might have had access to classified information relative to their current objectives. So, if anyone wants to come save me, or help me steal a ship...or recruit me...
Lt. Cmd. Christopher A. Huff
Huff part 2
::Per Logan:: ::NOTE: Huffs followup response added in green text::
Huff left the Promanade and headed for Brown Sector. Every space station that has civilians on it and passing through has a "Brown Sector". It was some kind of in joke from way back in Earth's entertainment history. Now it was simply part of the slang. It was the area where those with no place to go and no money to leave gathered and eaked out a survival. It was also where the grey and black markets were, at least those not controlled by Quark. Huff knew he could book passage there to get off the station unnoticed. He at least was not lacking funds, even if he didn't keep them readily visible.
Stepping off the turbo lift, he headed towards his goal, but as he turned a corner someone blocked his way.
"Christopher Huff" It was not a question. The black furred Caitian stood about 6 foot tall and was dressed in leather, from the boots to the pants to the sleeveless vest. There was even a leather band wrapping his long hair into a ponytail. Chris had never known a Caitian who let his head fur grow long enough to be styled like normal hair. "I have a proposition for you."
"Obviously you guys in the 'Office of Retention and Recruiting' aren't very good with the hearing. Or piss poor communicators. I told Smith and Jones 'no' and 'no' the answer remains. Now get out of my way or die."
The man's only answer was to pull out a knife and assume a fighting stance. Huff noticed that it was a Daqtagh, and the stance was a Klingon one. Huff purposefully bypassed all his ranged weapons, pulling the Andorian blade. While he didn't expect this from a Caitian, he figured he wasn't the only one to learn Klingon fighting techniques.
::Huff:: There was a buzzing in Huff ears, and it was getting more persistent. Damn, they are getting closer, he swore internally. The subspace tracer dust (a nanite cloud of transmitters) he tagged Smith and Jones (and their Dabbo back-ups) responded to movement and proximaty to the in-ocular communicator . They were moving quickly toward him, if the increasingly annoying buzz was any sign, which it was. However, this cat wasn't setting off any alarms...well, other than being a big scary Caitlan with a sharp, pointy thing aimed at him.
The Caitian didn't move. Huff didn't move. For several minutes, the stalemate persisted.
::Huff:: The buzz was louder. Too loud. They must be right above them...or coming down the turbolift. So, either this guy was clean or hadn't met up with his '31' buddies to get "contaminated" with his dust. But one tango with a knife was better than five with who knows what. Time to play a different game.
Finally Huff said, "You're not Starfleet or 31 are you?"
"No, I'm not. Are you going to try to kill me or not? While I wouldn't mind the combat practice, I really think CAPT Preast would rather have you in one piece."
"Who are you?" Huff sheathed the knife and stood up straight. If the man hadn't attacked by now, odds were he would keep to Klingon Honor and not attack when he was (visibly) unarmed.
"Vice Admiral Logan Andrews, Maquis. Like I said, I'm here to offer you a job."
::Huff:: "A Maquis admiral?" Huff said. "I didn't know they had those." The buzz was terribly loud now. "Does that mean you got a fleet near by? Or at least a ship?"
The turbolift opened revealing a crowd of people, including Smith and Jones and the three Dabbo players. The other three looked like they were booted out of the StarFleet Marines for being too mean.
"Or perhaps...some Orion Space Pirates tucked away somewhere..."
Tag ::OOC:: Logan, don't kill them all, leave some for me....particularly Smith and Jones.
TAG -- until...
Meamwhile aboard Serendipity
To most observers, the ship was the standard Ju'day class freighter, one of thousands plying the trade routes to, from, and amoung the fringes of the Federations territory. On the outside she was not much to look at, typical in that she carried numerous odd and usually unidentifiable external modifications and upgrades. Nothing to betray the fact that she was really a Maquis Raider, MFS Serendipity.
On-board the Serendipity, Chief Engineer and acting Captain Ten-of-Nine looked over the engineering readouts once again. To most engineers all was well, but Ten was more demanding than most. He craved perfection plus ten percent. The ships engines were already running at nearly warp 8, well above the rated nominal warp 6 plus. Most of that accumen on Tens part was due to his history as a Reformed Borg. Other slang terms included "Born-Again Borg" and "Emancipated Borg". Regardless, his knowlege and skills retained from his time as a former member of the Collective were simply enviable and amazing amoung his peers and friends.
Since the Dominion/Cardassian War had nearly wiped out the Maquis, the Maquis had achieved a remarkable resurgence post war. On the borders and frontiers of Federation space, the Maquis had nearly as much respect from the various species and inhabitants as the Federation. The growth and strength of the Maquis had gotten to the point where special units and commands were now possible. Such was unthinkable before the war.
This mission was a differant twist on the normal. This was explained to be a difficult and possibly impossible salvage mission of a former Starfleet top of the line starship. Ten liked those odds. The impossible was a challenge. This was also the first mission using Serendipity as a Maquis Corps of Engineers (MCE) reserve vessel. Many of the crew onboard already were hand-picked as the best in their fields. Several others were either being picked up enroute or meeting the ship at a Maquis Listening Post, LP Linwood, in just over six days hence.
Activating the comms :::Engineer to Bridge::: "Harker, how are we doing? I believe we should be at our stop at DS9 fairly soon. Any problems?" Lieutenant Elizabeth Harker was the Security Officer on Serendipity but pulling bridge duty at the moment. Most raider crew were used to wearing multiple hats. Harker was one of the best security officers Ten had worked with in quite a while.
TAG... more to come -- VADM Steve
Serendipity bridge....
Lt. Elizabeth "The Tornado" Harker
Chief of Security, MFS Serendipity
She leaned forward intently checking the tactical station for possible threats and shifted in her seat. She wore her standard uniform of a brown leather jacket, with a female hawk in flight on the back and the words 'LadyHawke' below it, with beat up combat pants and boots, a black shirt and a pistol in a low slung holster. Of course that was the only weapon you could see, didn't mean she didn't have others hidden throughout her person.
She answered Ten's comm with, "Hey Baker's Dozen, No problems yet but the night is young" She quipped over to Ten-of-Whatever. They'd known each other for years so he didn't get offended when she called him by the old nickname. When they were introduced she thought it odd his name was a number. Somehow the joke got started on "10, 11, 12, a baker's dozen.." No one remembers quite how anymore--all that was known was Ten would tolerate it from a few people only.
<Tag>
Later, after arriving at DS9...
Roughly six hours later, Serendipty sat docked to a lower pylon amidst several other ships. She had been there just over three hours waiting for passengers. Ten-of-Nine was getting impatient. Just where the heck was that damn Doctor? Whats his name... oh yeah... Doctor James Evans, retired from Starfleet Medical. He and a couple of junior engineers with science backgrounds should have arrived half an hour ago. "Tornado" Harker had half convincingly wanted to outfit an assault team to find them. Guess she was on edge as well. Instead, Ten had quietly sent a young security officer/helmsman who had spent a little time on DS9 off-ship to make contact. He was overdue...
<<OOC>>--We pause here before Logan & Huff make their escape. Dr Evans, you may show any time now... --<<IC>>
Back to Logan and Huff...
::Per Logan:: <<OOC>>--For now, until guidance is given, I'll be doing overlap, which is the last bit of the particular thread you're in. I'm also used to where one posts parts of a previous post to correct or add to it for their character, which is what you did on your last post. --<<IC>>
PREVIOUSLY= The turbolift opened revealing a crowd of people, including Smith and Jones and the three Dabbo players. The other three looked like they were booted out of the StarFleet Marines for being too mean.
"Or perhaps...some Orion Space Pirates tucked away somewhere..." =AND NOW...
"A few pirates thrown in might be good....to help even the odd for them." Logan launched himself towards the group of agents. His feline agility served him well here. Smith and Jones tucked and rolled under the Caitian as he clothes lined the other three. Smith and Jones Came up to Huff's fist hurling towards their faces.
::per Huff::
Rarely do you get such a perfect set up. Smith and Jones came out of their rolls, and Huff was in the perfect position at the perfect distance. Both fists shot out in parallel courses. Jones was a little shorter than Smith, so the blow caught him on the chin, knocking him back into the frame of the turbo lift. Smith caught the blow full in the throat and crumpled to the ground immediately.
Huff could feel the tingling in his hands after the blows. Smith and Jones were wearing some kind of personal forcefields...inertial dampening suits or something.
"Damn," he hissed. Smith was already getting up, while Jones was still breathing. "I hate cheaters." He delivered a nasty kick to Jones' groin. He may not be able to get a solid blow through their shields, but that was till going to hurt like hell, and keep the agent on the deck for another second. He drew is Andorian ice blade, prepared to make sure that he wouldn't get back up. Smith intercepted him, knocking Huff away from the downed agent.
Fortunately, the inertial dampeners worked in against the agent as well as protected him. Protecting the head and torso from impacts, it left the limbs uncovered for striking. The field worked both ways, so a punch from within a PIF (protective inertia field) would be robbed of its energy the same way an incoming strike would. So, Smith's body tackle felt more like someone bumping into him in a crowded party. Smith's fist wrapped around him and knocked him in the back of the skull, but could not land a solid strike.
Huff spun and let Smith slide off of him, and took the opportunity to let his Kelvin-cold crystalline blade slide across the back of Agent Smith's neck. The inertia field would stop all but the strongest cuts, but the icy touch of the crystal would go right through the shield, freezing or at least numbing whatever it touched, in this case, The top of Smith's spine.
The agent dropped like a stone. That would keep him down for a good while, but know his partner was starting to get up, and Huff felt the buzz of more agents getting closer.
"They invited some more friends!" He told the Caitlian.
::per Logan::
Logan sprang to his feet and kicked back to catch one guy on the chin as he was getting up. He whirled to see the other two were on their feet. They advanced, splitting up to flank him to either side. Logan ducked under one punch as another struck him where a human's kidney would be. He stood straighter and looked at the man, wagling his finger then driving his fingers, claws out, into the man's stomach. The second man grabbed him around the chest pinning Logan's arms to his side. Logan kicked backwards and up while throwing his weight forward, kicking the man in the back of the head.
He turned and saw that Huff had manage to floor his two, but realized that they would not be down for long. He also didn't trust that 31 only sent these five. His sources told him they wanted Huff pretty badly. "Let's go!", he yelled.
The two men took off down the hall, while Logan tapped his commbadge, a red shell-shaped item. "Trin, where are you?"
"I have you, boss. Take the next right and go straight. That should put you along the outter wall."
The pair skidded to the right and ran down the corridor. Behind them they could hear others running and it sounded like more than 5 men. In fact Logan thought at least one was a Brikar. They skidded to halt at a dead end. They hadn't passed any other corridors or doors. Turning they saw about a dozen agents closing in.
"Trinity....."
"Gotcha" A transporter beam snatched them up and when the effect cleared, Huff found himself on a runabout. Mare Class if he was correct. Logan was alreay heading for the pilot seat. He saw no one else, and went to take the co-pilot seat. As he stepped forward, a woman suddenly appeared before him. He couldn't stop himself, but instead of hitting her, he passed through her.
"Boss, I think....oh sorry....I think one of the docked ships is a 31 undercover. Their engines just powered up beyond what they should be."
"Huff, Trinity...Trinity, Chris Huff. She was my EMH, but she's grown a little beyond that....and occasionally beyond her britches." She just stuck out her tounge at the Caitian's back. Logan tapped a few controls as he maneuvered the runabout away from the station wall. "Secure the channel, Trin. Maquis 1285. This is Andrews to any Maquis in the area. I need a Sun-eater, because it's about to go nova around here!"
::per Huff::
Huff dropped in one of the aft station seats.
"So much for an early retirement," he whispered to himself in exasperation. His head ached from where Smith landed his blow. He reached up to feel the bump, and his hand came back with blood on the fingertips. "What did he hit me with?..."
He tried to shake it off, but the headache increased. He tried to ignore it and pulled out his tricorder. It was a late model medical tricorder, with the remote sensor attached, but most of the medical information had been replaced long ago.
He entered a series of commands and set the tricorder to interface with the station he sat at. The control panel sprung to life with sensor data.
TAG
Serendipity - The GIFT
<<OOC>> Sam (Bibb of course)... Sorry, but despite the fact I emailed you today I need to take action now. So I shall get you on the ship--kinda. Hope to see you active soon... CD... We are jumping forward in time to get in sync with Logan and Huff. In case anybody wonders what happened, we played 3,496 games of Tic-Tac-Toe. Nobody won. Tally ho! <<IC>> <see below>
Previously...
<<OOC>>--Serendipity actually arrived prior to the events of Logan & Huff meeting, oblivious to their presence... CD, you can fill in any of the gap here that you like... --<<IC>>
Roughly six hours later, Serendipty sat docked to a lower pylon amidst several other ships. She had been there just over three hours waiting for passengers. Ten-of-Nine was getting impatient. Just where the heck was that damn Doctor? Whats his name... oh yeah... Doctor James Evans, retired from Starfleet Medical. He and a couple of junior engineers with science backgrounds should have arrived half an hour ago. "Tornado" Harker had half convincingly wanted to outfit an assault team to find them. Guess she was on edge as well. Instead, Ten had quietly sent a young security officer/helmsman (ENS Akorem) who had spent a little time on DS9 off-ship to make contact. He was overdue...
<<OOC>>--We pause here before Logan & Huff make their escape. Dr Evans, you may show any time now... --<<IC>>
And now on DS9...
Nearly seven hours after Serendipity docked at DS9, Ten-of-Nine entered the bridge just as Harker arrived to resume bridge duty from LTJG Do'kor-Rue the senior Comm Officer (npc).
"Anything at all to report, Mr Rue?" asked Ten
"Nothing from ENS Akorem (npc), Sir. However I have been monitoring some of the stations secure channels and there seem to be some sort extreme tension in the tone of the stations command and security channels. Nothing specific. More like a lot of reports of little problems and abnormal activity. From what I can tell, it has been going on a few days. We best be alert, Sir."
Ten smiled a tired grin. "Good job Rue. Keep monitoring for now." He added, " Lizzie, let's you and I see if we can squeeze any sensor data from the stations systems without tipping our hand. You know the drill."
A short time later, Rue spoke... "Sir, I just received a low power, short range comm link from ENS Akorem. He is headed for our ship. Not too far away. He said he has our cargo but it is not exactly as manifested."
"Very good. Lizzie, please alert the crew in case there is trouble and then meet our arrivals at the hatch. I don't need to tell you to be careful, but do watch that trigger finger" Ten smiled as he tensed for the unexpected. "Rue, double check our status to be sure we can leave on short notice."
Just then sensor worm tapped into the stations network triggered an alert on his console. Interesting Ten thought. A very plain freighter had docked on one of the upper pylons just before the station started experiencing their troubles. Bears watching, he thought...as he entered new commands into the computer.
"Main screen display outside our hatch to the station." The scene showed Akorem arriving with an anti-grav cargo handler. He was accompanied by a male Trill and a female Andorian. Harker and two other crewmen greeted the group outside the hatch, conversed with Akorem, and then scanned the cargo container. "All clear" she reported then "Package complete", as they moved aboard Serendipity. Ten used the intercomm to have Lizzie send the new arrivals to quarters with an escort, then request that she and Akorem report to the bridge.
Before Ten could inquire about the cargo container, Rue suddenly got excited. "Sir, something big is happening over in the Brown Sector. From the station channels it sounds like they have a war going on. There is a lot of movement but it is headed away from here."
Moments later, a secure coded comm message came through on a Maquis emergency channel, "Maquis 1285. This is Andrews to any Maquis in the area. I need a Sun-eater, because it's about to go nova around here!"
What the heck was that crazy cat Logan doing here? Ten thought. And what kind of nest did he stir up this time? "Akorem, take the helm. We need to tip our hat and quietly skulk away. We do NOT need to draw any attention to ourselves so keep things calm." "Rue, get ready to notify the station we are departing now and thank them for our stay. Then prepare a transmission to Bajor notifying our patron we are departing the area. Order 65 protocol. Send it via normal channels through our Comm Buoy we dropped in orbit on our way in. Hold until I give the word because we are going to tight beam piggyback a signal with it."
Order 65 means to make it up, convincingly.
"Lizzie, I need you to break out one of our toys. The Remora. We are going to transport it on a tight beam to relay through our special comm buoy and then drop it right in front of that suspicious ship thats powering up right now. A parting gift."
What happened next seemed a blur. Serendipity calmly departed the station, whose personnel were kinda busy at that moment. Five other ships were coming or going at the same time including the suspicious one which seemed to be in a huge hurry. Logan's shuttle was out of visual range. On command, the message for the 'Bajor Patron" was sent via the buoy. Moments later the target ship closed with the tiny, unseen Remora which subsequently latched onto the ship and immediately started to drain power and propulsion. The ship must have been in a huge hurry because it only took a short time to max out the Remoras capacity. The Remora released itself from the enemy and drifted only about 10 to 15 meters when it self-destructed. The ship showed a breech in its hull when the blast died away. They were not going anywhere soon, but they should be able to get repairs in a few hours.
"Set a course on a likely trade route until we are out of sensor range of DS9 and have verified we aren't being followed. Lizzie, please have the ship scanned to make sure we don't have any tags and pay special attention to our cargo we just picked up. Once we are secure and out of sight, set course for LP Linwood."
<<TAG>>
- OOC:: Good enough...? Steve
The Distress Beacon
- An older story that was started and died off some while back
- Pretty much in stasis at the moment...
- Anyone is welcome to jump in and contibute to this as well
It was a dark and stormy night on this side of the seemingly primative Class-M planet. The crew was on their way to a "Recreation" Planet, when Long Range Sensors picked up a Distress Beacon coming from the Second planet in this system. They weren't sure why initial sensor sweeps couldn't scan the planet's surface, when they had no problem picking up the beacon from the edge of the System. In order to investigate, the Away Team had to take a shuttle to the planet's surface.
To be continued...
Yazdir, LP Phantom Zone 22:10, 23 Aug 2005 (EDT)
...
It was a relatively smooth entry flight and took just over fifteen minutes to complete. They group landed in a pleasant grove of primitive tree-like plants with a dull 'whump'. Crewman Walters was the first out onto the landscape. He quickly removed hi tricorder from its place on his belt and homed in on the beacons source. When the remaining members of the shuttles away team had debarked they began to travel in the direction indicated by the transporter at a fast walk. Some degree of brush impeded them but this was dealt with using a disruptor tuned to a very fine kill beam just in from of them to saw away the vegetation. The usual chatter of native lifeforms could be heard around them and although they didnt see anything particularly hazardous, still the team was becoming restless as a brooding presence made itself felt upon their minds.
...
Without warning, the party encountered a small clearing ahead. The tricorder signal continued beyond the clearing on the far side. Centered in the clearing was a mound of small, round, and furry objects. The mound appeared to be subtly quivering. On signal from the away team's leader, Security Officer Miller stepped closer to investigate. Her red tunic contrasted sharply with the mottled coloration of the mounded objects. Suddenly...
--COMO 10-of-9 (S.Lackey) 20:14, 19 Sep 2005 (EDT)
...
...she took one step too far and gave a scream as she was apparently swallowed up by the ground. The mound of furry objects in the clearing beyond appeared unchanged.
"Dammit" thought the Team Leader "why is it always the red shirts who get into trouble?"
On closer examination, the ground in the area where Miller vanished was found to be covered with a six inch thick, stiff yet springy, interlocking grass-like plant. Tricorder readings were inconclusive--something seemed to interfere with the scans.
Carefully, Walters manually probed the ground on hands and knees. "Amazing," he said, "see how the ground cover gives way under moderate pressure." As he spoke, he pushed to expose a dark cavity below. On release, the plant covering sprang back into place sealing the opening to view.
"Miller, can you hear me? Are you alright?" he yelled after he pushed and held the void open once more.
No answer.
Looking around, Walters warned, "This whole area could conceal hundreds more unseen openings like this. We must exercise extreme caution when moving about. Your orders, sir?"
The Team Leader paused. He now is faced with multiple tasks. Should he keep the landing party together or divide his resources? Security Officer Miller is missing and possibly injured. Should he risk sending someone down the hole? What about the trembling mound of furry objects awaiting closer examination? Beyond those problems, they now have been further slowed in progressing in the direction of the Distress Beacon. At this rate, the search could take months.
[to be continued...]
--COMO 10-of-9 [s.lackey] 22:15, 21 Oct 2005 (EDT)
Just then the mound of furry objects trembled and began squeaking loudly. Then they were sent flying in all directions as an extremely fat Ferengi appeared from their midst. "I can guarantee your safety on this planet," he said, "for the very reasonable price of only three bars of gold-pressed latinum."
"...Each, of course."
[story=off] Welcome! Glad for some new input. [story=on]
--COMO 10-of-9 [s.lackey] 22:15, 21 Oct 2005 (EDT)
Smirked the short, sqautily squat Ferengi. "Thath would be zix people, incluthing Miller. Theze arr, petz, zpezially breeded to my commandz." The smirk was now a smile, literally from lobe to lobe.
Walter scanned the furry object now merely feet away from him. "They appear to be a breed of Tribble, but their genetic make up has been altered with the Augment virus! How did you get your hands on this virus?"
"Thath vill cost you an addithonal zix barz, EACH!!!" Laughing heartily, the Ferengi put his hands on his hips and spoke in his native tongue. Suddenly, all of the Tribbles began moving toward each member of the landing party. Their mouths opened to expose razor sharp teeth, all four rows of them. Thompson was closest when...
--- --- ---
"Computer, freeze program."
"What is it now, Julian?"
"I'm not sure about these little critters. Really? Tribbles with razor sharp teeth, Chief?"
"Sure, why not. What do you think happens when they meet a Klingon up close?"
"Well they..."
1 of 2 of 8 Bravo Tridenary Conjunct of Subjunction Six, Omnimatrix One-Seven | 1439 FRI 11 MAY 2007
