NationStates Jolt Archive

STAR TREK
THE INFINITE DOMAIN



StarFleet Station Orion

The shuttle entered the Station's zone. Commander Adam Harlan looked out the porthole next to his seat and rested a head against it. It was cool to the touch. Outside the thick reinforced glass was the frigid and unforgiving atmosphere of space. It was so beautiful yet at the same time deadly and treacherous. a void of contradictions, beautiful systems mixed with consuming blackholes. He'd spent a great deal of his life amoungst the stars. He wasn't even born on Earth, but Mars. He found it hard to believe that almost a thousand years ago, humans thought it impossible to leave the planet, Earth. He'd always known Mars to be a quite nice planet. It was terraformed hundreds of years prior and now a second Earth in a sense. He'd been to Earth a few times. It felt sgtrange but at the same time familiar. Home is home, wherever you make it.

"Attention all passengers" The intercom broke the silence, 'We'll be docking in approximatelt ten minutes at Orion Central"

He turned his attention back to the window and saw several Starships in their docks. Other smaller craft criss crossed about. The Space Station was gigantic, a testiment of StarFleet power. Several alien ships were at port-of-call, giving their crews a chance to relax from long deployments. The Federation logo adonned the Central hub, highlighted by lights. He was exhausted. having spent the past few days traveling, having just ended his leave. It was refreshing to return home and see his family, though his mother was becoming ill, she still remained a figurehead of endurance. Harlan looked up to and admired her, a strong willed woman.

Finally, the shuttle docked at the Arrival Terminal, opposite the repair docking stations. Harlan stood up and gathered his bag and shuffled out with the other passengers. The flight attendant offered a courteous smile as he exited. He found it easy to navigate around the station, having been here numerous times. StarFleet Station Orion hovered around Mars. This was the main station for the Solar System.

"Commander Harlan?" a voice questioned from behind. Harlan turned around to see another officer, body rigid, shoulder straight, professional overtones to his voice.

'Yes, and who are you?" Harlan asked.

"I'm Lt. Subashi" Subashi said, "I'll be taking you to the Valiant. The Captain wants to meet with you as soon as possible"

"Sounds good to me" Harlan said, before he knew it, he was trailing behind the young Lieutenant who weaved in and out of the crowds with ease. Harlan found it difficult to keep up with him. Despite being athletic, Subashi made him look like an obese slug, awkwardly fighting through the crowds. It felt like yesterday when a young, newly commissioned Ensign version of himself passed through these very same halls, lost in the large expanse of StarFleet, trying to live up to expectations. Now, a more seasoned Commander returned.

"Can you tell me about the upcoming deployment?" Harlan asked as they continued to walk.

"Sorry Sir" Subashi replied, "I couldn't tell you. Probably a routine patrol at the borders of The Neutral Zone"

"I see" Harlan replied, he knew that Subashi knew more than he was letting on, but there would be no way of getting the information out of him. There was always something more than just a deployment. There's always more to it than just that, nothing can ever be routine or easy, not when dealing with alien races. But, it was all about Galactic Cooperation, that's what the Federation stood by.

Harlan gave up the idea of futher conversation with Subashi. So, the rest of the time was silence while Harlan observed the day to day routine of the personnel aboard the station.

"We're almost there, sir" Subashi finally said. They walked down a corridor that said ''Dock 8" on the screen and below it was the name of the occupying ship, USS Valiant. This broad corridor took them down to another tube which was connected to the ship, latched to a loading port along the ships' starboard side. Provisions were being loaded as well. Crews worked like worker bees, getting containers of supplies onto hover loaders and leading them down the coorridor.

They entered the personnel tube, a long cylindrical white tube. At the end the portal was open and led to the Quarterdeck for the ship, the personnel within the deck called attention on deck, which was the custom and Harlan waved it off and told them to carry on. The process of checking in was a long process. His transfer package was lost two times by Personnel Command. Even in this day and age, paperwork still gets lost.

"Welcome aboard USS Valiant, Commander Harlan" The woman said with a smile, "Captain Winters wants to meet with you as soon as possible"

"Thank you" Harlan said, he turned around to see Subashi no longer by his side. He scratched his head and stood there for a few moments, gathering his thoughts. It was an inglorious start to hsi tour aboard the ship. The crew seemed ignorant to his position, if they knew he was the new XO, they wouldn't be as rude as Subashi was. He shrugged it off, just wanting to meet with the Captain then get some rest.

Lieutenant Commander McKee sighed and stood on one of the many decks that the new vessel, the Valient possessed. She was impressed by both it and it's size. She admired the vessel and, having arrived several days previously, had spent her time touring the ship, getting to know every corner, every jeffrey's tube and every small particle where an intruder or an imposter may think to hide. McKee knew that there was always a slim chance of such a thing happening but it never hurt for the Security Chief to know all of the areas where security may be an issue. She had then spent the next couple of days aquinting herself with the equipment of the tactical console. Now she was more than ready for anything that space could throw at her.

She was leaning against one of the bulkheads on the quarterdeck now, watching as the latest equipment that Starfleet could offer was brought aboard one of her premier ships. Not only was she an explorer, she was a fully functioning warship. However, McKee saw the distinct Uniform of an Officer boarding the vessel and approaching him calmly. She offered him a salute,
"Lieutenant Commander McKee Sir," She spoke with a strong accent that marked her homeland of Ireland, "Pleasure to meet you...Sir?" She said the last part with a slight hesitation for, though his Uniform was the colour of a Senior Officer, she did not know if he was Senior to her...yet.

Commander Harlan walked about the passageways of the Valiant. He enjoyed walking around, studying the habits of the other personnel. It was always interesting to visit some place new. Despite the drawbacks of leaving a familiar place, the thrill of discovery, even if it's from ship to ship and not galaxy to galaxy, can be equally interesting sometimes. That's why he joined StarFleet. It wasn't to be some military hero, leading a ship to victory over some adversary. He wasn't that sort of a person, more or less untested by battle. Of course he'd pass the simulators at the Academy with flying colors but other than that, he doubted those set of skills. No, it was the chance to see something bigger than him. The Universe is an awefully big place, why not try and see as much of it as you can while you have the opportunity? He'd watch the spaceport in Mars City, watching ships lift-off from the pads, while others reenter the atmosphere. Huge megolithic bulks of sophisticated technology moving with such grace. Hearing of the different and exciting travels of so many people. Ever since those days, he'd dreamt of nothing else except space.

As he made his way through the decks, past the other crewmembers, he approached a woman who looked like she knew what was going on.

"Commander Harlan" Harlan replied, offering a smile, "It's a pleasure to meet you, LCDR McKee"

Shuttlecraft G-567 neared the space station. Dozens of other such vessels whizzed by in this massive shipyard in the sky, some flying only a few feet apart, but kept safe by their computer controls. Nobody on the shuttle even noticed that they had almost reached their destination—all but one. Among the faces of the seven passengers one stood out. Her arched eyebrows, emotionless expression, and pointed ears immediately identified her as a Vulcan, Lieutenant Commander T’Pell, the only of her species aboard. She sat by the door, isolated from the others—the crude, loquacious young human officers whose dirty stories and incessant laughter filled the tiny vessel. But she was indifferent to her exclusion from their illogical antics. Humans were a strange bunch, as all Vulcans knew. Living with them would be difficult, but she had managed it before and could do it again. She wondered how T’Pol survived two centuries earlier. Or how about the legendary Spock, who spent years traveling space with the highly emotion-driven Captain Kirk—and worse Doctor Leonard McCoy, that infamously harsh critic of the Vulcan way?

Of course, despite their numerous flaws, T’Pell admired the human race. They had come such a long way in such a short time. Sure, they had progressed with their help of her people, but still their advancement was a singular story in the history of the galaxy. She even realized that there were advantages to their emotions. When she first read Spock’s argument on that matter as a young Starfleet cadet, she dismissed it as nonsense, as the illogical bantering of a half-breed—a respectable one, but a half-Vulcan nevertheless. In time, though, she saw the reasoning behind his conclusion. During her journeys through space with humans she found herself in predicaments in which even pure logic could not help her; and in those situations the emotions of her illogical companions led her to safety. Yes, she thought, the humans really are a respectable race—. A chubby lieutenant (j.g.) with a greasy face and messy red hair burst into an obnoxious fit of laughter over an ensign’s tale of two Ferengi walking into a strip joint in Moscow. —albeit frustrating.

The shuttlecraft turned around and began to back into the dock. The fat young officer’s laughter had stopped. He now struggled to catch his breath. T’Pell hoped that he was not assigned to the same ship as she, USS Valiant. The shuttle completed its docking and the door opened. She was the first one out, and she headed straight for her ship.

Lieutenant Commander T’Pell was physically attractive by human standards (though not even the drunkest pervert in existence would dare make a move on this creature of logic, for they knew it would be an exercise in futility). Her shiny black hair extended in straight lines to her shoulder. She had a perfectly symmetrical face and pale skin. At 5’6” she found she was slightly taller than majority of the female portion of the earthmen.

People hurried down the wide halls of the space station with the marks of stress and fatigue on their face. Many rudely pushed others out of their way, offering only feigned apologies. The Vulcan woman provided a strange contrast to these busy bodies. She walked at a steady pace, eyes forward, and politely asked people to move when they blocked her path.

Finally she arrived at the docking location of the Valiant. She went down the personnel tube and was met by an ostensibly nervous ensign, probably on his first deep space tour. He held a clipboard against his chest and looked around as if he expected somebody to jump out with a knife and stab him. He muttered a hello when T’Pell approached and nodded. “Lieutenant Commander T’Pell reporting. Request permission to come aboard, sir,” she said. The ensign checked the clipboard and found her listed as Science Officer. “Permission granted, sir,” he said.

She did not need to stop to ask for directions, as she had carefully reviewed the map of her new home before arriving. The Vulcan headed straight for the bridge, where she hoped the Captain would be; if not, she could easily find her way to his quarters. As she walked she stumbled into CDR. Harlan and LCDR. McKee.

Harlan saw appraoch down the passageway, someone who stuck out from the rest of the crew. He recognized her immideately to be Vulcan. The Vulcans and Humans worked hand in hand, cooperating on numerous joint ventures. They were our strongest allies in the Federation. They were trutworthy to work with but their complete dismissal of emotions was something he found hard to understand. Both races were so similar but so different. He couldn't imagine being without emotions, living day to day, not being able to enjoy the simple pleasures, or any of the other gambit of emotions, especially love.

It takes the fun out of dealing with the opposite sex. He often laughed at the idea of two Vulcans dating. What would they talk about? What would they say after making love? Well, correction on the word. There were plenty of jokes flying around. Of course, they probably looked at us as over emotional barbarians.

"Good Afternoon, LCDR..." Harlan said, leaving room for her to finish the sentence.

"T'Pell," the commander said. "Science officer aboard this vessel. And you are, sir?" She studied the man standing before her.

"T'Pell?" Harlan replied, more or less testing the name out himself, seeing if he could make the name sound comfortable and storing it in his memory, "I am Commander Adam Harlan, just arrived aboard the ship"

T'Pell extended her hand. She considered it logical to conform to a race's social standards when in there presence, as it was a sign of respect. As she did so she continued to study the commander. He seemed like the adventurer type--the kind of man who foolishly jumps into precarious situations just for a thrill. But he did give the impression of an intelligent man, however. Harlan seemed more like a scientist like herself than he did a warrior, and that was comforting. Unfortuneately, appearances tell so little; they are often deceptive. It would take time to get to know what sort of man he truly was.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, T'Pell" Harlan replied, taking the offered hand and giving a firm handshake and a smile, "The Science Officer, eh? It's nice to see people with other backrounds, aside from military types. I'm a civilian trapped in an officer's body" Harlan laughed jokingly.

Captain Aelita Hopper wandered the deck of the Voyager-C, in a routine inspection of her crew. All of a sudden, the bridge crew warned of approaching enemy vessels, and Hopper sprinted to the bridge turbolift. On the bridge, they found Borg (!) vessels approaching, and the Captain ordered Alert Level 1. She transmitted to Starfleet: "We are engaging the Borg at Sector 193. Request immediate backup." Voyager-C may be the best ship in the fleet, but even she could not tackle four Borg Cubes alone.

OOC: Appreciate your desire to be a part of this rp. But, you need to post your character and such in the sign-up thread. Also, the Borg aren't in this rp. I know I've been tight-lipped about much of the plot, just giving a brief tidbit, but if you want to be a part of this, post a character in the sign-up thread. You can still be the Captain of a ship, of course.

OOC: What sign up thread?

Though she found no humor in the commander's statement, T'Pell understood the meaning behind it. "I can relate," she said. "I joined Starfleet because of the unique oppurtunity it offers for me as a scientist. I have no interest in military matters. Of course, if I am called upon to engage in battle, I will accept my duty." Small talk did not interest her, so she decided to move past that annoying habit of humans to converse merely for the sake of doing so and get straight to business. "Do you know if the captain is on the bridge, sir?"

OOC: What sign up thread?

http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=572106

Harlan should have known that his attempt at humor would fail to break the stoic expression of a Vulcan. He always considered himself a humerous and light-hearted man but apparently he fell short with this woman. He shrugged it off and came to terms that it was her and not him. "I was going to ask you the same thing...it turns out I'm a bit lost, actually" he laughed at himself, "I guess I should've gone over the vessel's map before I showed up. I'm new here, been onboard for about...fifteen minutes"

"I am not lost, sir," T'Pell replied. "I can find my way to the bridge, or anywhere on this ship, without difficulty. I am just curious about the present location of our captain. I wish to check in with him. If you want, commander, you can follow me."

Harlan smirked, T'Pell was indeed a very strong individual, he respected that. A Vulcan working amidst a bunch of emotion-driven humans, not to mention the fact she was a female didn't help either. She was also very confident. Her knowledge of the ship made him feel like an inferior officer, a green recruit. It wasn't the best feeling int he world but she was so sure of herself.

"Please, lead the way" Harlan stepped aside, sweeping his arms courteously, allowing her to pass by him.

The USS Voyager-C was patrolling the Federation/Klingon border. For the past week, all has been well. But now, a Klingon ship is sitting just across the border. Captain Aelita Hopper wonders whether it is going to attack or whether it will just back away. She orders Alert Level 2 just in case. "We've been sitting here for thirty minutes now." she states. Her tactical officer replied, "It's starting to move toward us." "Okay, let's go to Level 1. Send a message to Starfleet that a Klingon ship is about to cross into Federation space. We're going to need all the help we can get- what the? Three more just decloaked!" the Captain exclaimed. "All hands, battle stations."

LCDR. T'Pell had spent enough time with humans to be able to detect their feelings fairly well -- better than most Vulcans, at least. She realized that CDR. Harlan was embarrassed by being guided by a subordinate. She also suspected her gender contributed to his shame. Despite so much social progression, the males of the species continue to possess feelings of superiority over females. Highly illogical.

They walked to the end of the passageway, made a left, quickly followed by a right. They came to a turbolift and went in. "Bridge," T'Pell said.

Harlan managed to keep up with her more easily than Subashi. As they entered the turbolift, there was an awkward silence. She probably had no difficulty with the silence, but it felt uncomfortable for Harlan. As they ascended the deck levels, he cleared his throat.

"So...Are you new here as well?" Harlan asked, desperate to break the silence.

OOC: Is anyone going to respond to my post?

Dr. Tomas Alexander tried to shrug off the stiffness of the flight in the cramped shuttle as he entered the docking bay. A quick check of his papers, and he was directed down a mostly deserted corridor. Eventually it turned into a large hallway, filled with bustling officer and star fleet workers loading a ship for its upcoming voyage. His ship, the Valiant.

Dr Alexander was glad to reach the ship. He had never been comfortable trying to navigate the maze of corridors. Not for the first time, he casually wondered what had compelled him to take this post. He was a civilian, not a soldier; he could have easily declined the post. But as always, he knew the answer. Their was the desire to see new things, encounter new civilization, to work to establish relations with an entire new civilization, with its own set of laws and customs. He hadn't gotten a degree in first contact situations to teach behind a desk.

Of course, it was questionable weather Star Fleet would give a damn about his opinions. He was a civilian, working outside the Star Fleet rank structure. This could easily be another dead end for his career, one that had promised to take him to the Federation Council until his time on Vulcan had convince much of the ruling eliet that he was too much in line with Vulcan interests to represent a human world. Since then, certain individuals had been blocking his promotion. He still didn't know weather this posting was a favor from someone giving him a chance to prove himself, or a ploy by some adversary to get him out of the way. Probably the latter, though he did have a friend or two in the admiralty.

Pushing through the throng, he showed his ID to the ensign standing guard at the boarding hatch. He was allowed through, into one of the many interior corridors of the ship itself. Seeing a directory on the wall, he took the path that seemed to lead towards the main turbolift to the bridge. As he walked, he looked around, taking in his new home. He had to admit, these ships were beauties.

Up ahead, he spotted a group of three Star Fleet officers talking. A human man, a human woman, and a Vulcan female, all clearly high ranking. Figuring it would be good to get to know the officers as soon as possible, and still unsure of the route to the bridge, Dr. Alexander walked up to the man in a commander's uniform, slipping into the turbolift right behind him.

"Hello Sir. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Dr. Alexander. I'm a civilian consultant attached to this mission."

"Affirmative. This is my first assignment to a starship in over three years." T'Pell did not turn her head to look at the commander. She just stared at the changing deck numbers above the door. Finally, it read 'Level 12 - BRIDGE'. The door opened to the bridge, where several officers were already busy at their stations. The back of the captain's chair was too high to tell if it was occupied.

OOC: Bloody hell, leave something for a few hours and

"Commander Harlan" Harlan replied, offering a smile, "It's a pleasure to meet you, LCDR McKee"

"Nice to meet you Commander," McKee replied quietly, glancing at the Vulcan but making no statement to her. She did not like the Vulcans all that much, neither their neutrality with emotions nor their attitudes to various things. She had found the Commander of the ship, the Second Officer, or so she thought,
"Are you the XO of the Valient Sir?" She asked, "I am the Security Officer Sir," She was following the trio as well, whereever they were going.

Captain Dean Winters turned around in the chair as he heard the lift doors open and the alert sound went off, announcing new arrivals to the Bridge. He tapped his fingers on the arm rest then stood up. He was an older man, with a trimmed salt and peppered beard. He'd been the CO of Valiant for over three years, creating a well-founded working relationship with the crew, officer and enlisted. He was nearing the Winter months of his long career but refused to take a teaching position or some other office job. He could leave at any time but chose against it.

"Commander Harlan-I've been expecting you" Captain Winters said, walking around the railing, "And I see my Security and Science Officers are with you as well" he acknowledged both of them with a handshake and a welcome aboard.

Harlan had heard much about Winters, one of the better Captains in StarFleet, respected by the Federation Cpuncil as well.

"Sir, might I ask when the ship will be departing Orion?" Harlan asked

"We'll be departing tomorrow morning for a six month deployment to the Neutral Zone" Winters replied, "It's a good thing you got your leave in before, therse deployments are long ones. There are several port-of-calls along the way though, luckily. I'll be meeting with the other Commanding Officers for each department to give an offical briefing of our mission objectives later tonight, over dinner of course" he smiled

"Roger that, sir" Harlan said.

"Commanders McKee and T'Pell, it's nice to finally meet the two of you. McKee, I pulled alot of strings to get a Security Officer like you to replace Warrant Officer Fadrin, he was a good officer but he put in his papers for another assignment. And T'Pell, I learned alot from your courses at the Academy"

The lift stopped, convieniantly, at the bridge. Thanking fate for his good fortune, Dr. Alexander stepped out, standing back while the captain met with his new officers, and taking the opportunity to study the bridge.

The USS Voyager-C was patrolling the Federation/Klingon border. For the past week, all has been well. But now, a Klingon ship is sitting just across the border. Captain Aelita Hopper wonders whether it is going to attack or whether it will just back away. She orders Alert Level 2 just in case. "We've been sitting here for thirty minutes now." she states. Her tactical officer replied, "It's starting to move toward us." "Okay, let's go to Level 1. Send a message to Starfleet that a Klingon ship is about to cross into Federation space. We're going to need all the help we can get- what the? Three more just decloaked!" the Captain exclaimed. "All hands, battle stations."

Captain Tarak leaned forward in his chair, a broad grin spanned across his taut face. He enjoyed these little games with Federation ships, especially Humans. He monitored the ship's movement for several days, allowing his squadron to stay back. These were similar to playing chicken. Suprising the Federation vessel, forcing them to overreact then pull back as they scatter around.

"Sir, the vessel has transmitted a message" The Communications officer barked.

"Where?" Tarak asked nonchalantly, he removed his glove and placed it on the arm rest, sighing.

'StarFleet Command" he replied

Tarak flared his nostrils and let out a grunt, "Ha, they are cowards!" He scoffed, "At the first sign of trouble they call for assistance. Order our ships to cloak and pull away"

The Comm's Officer complied and sent a message out to the other ships. Provocation was Tarak's speciality, he had nor espect for the Humans whatsoever. They were frail, cowardly, and arrogant in his mind. They were like children in a way. And children needed discipline.

OOC: Mewsland, withdrawl your post about you being attacked

Voyager-C watched as the ships recloaked. "Cowards." the Captain stated. "They could have destroyed us, but they tuck tail and run as soon as we ask for more ships. Send message to Starfleet that the Klingons have retreated. I would say they are either plotting something or just plain cowardly as part of the message."

T'Pell was aware that the captain had taken some of the distance learning courses she taught that the academy offered for senior officers. The captain did well in all of them, so she did not doubt the man had a good mind. She had also done research on him. As far as she could tell, Winters was a competent leader. She said, quite honestly, "It is good to serve under you, sir. I am confident in your ability to lead." Maybe it wasn't the brightest compliment, but it was the best one could reasonably expect from a Vulcan.

After meeting with the captain T'Pell proceeded to her station.

Tarak knew that a greivance would be brought up against the Empire for this. Protocol had little meaning to him. He was a respected Captain, a warrior and a leader amoungst the fleet. He laughed once more and brought his hands together. He eagerly awaited to get th message about this incident. He always enjpyed a good challenged but this Federation vessel was not that at all, just another ship. War was his business and at the moment, The Klingons were not at war.

"Sir, the Federation ship is still at the border" the helmsman said.

"They can stay there all they want. We will retire for the time being, keep moitoring their communications" Tarak ordered. He stood up and cracked his neck. Soon, he mused, soon he'll have his challange.

Captain Winters nodded, "I can Captain my ship better with your approval" He joked. Harlan smiled but kept himself from laughing overtly. Winters turned to McKee and Harlan. He examined them for a few momentsm, first impressions were everything for him. He respected T'Pell and took into consideration her backround and didn't take to comment as an insult.

"We're just doing some pre-deployment checks. McKee, you may proceed to the Secuirty Central if you so choose. There's not much going on at the moment, so all of you may get some rest...You look like you need it, Commander Harlan" Winters observed.

"That I do" Harlan replied, "That I do"

McKee saluted the Captain, smiling as he complimented her. She had, of course, heard of Captain Winters. There were few in Starfleet who hadn't. She had often wondered what it would be like to serve under him and now it seemed like she would get the chance she had always wanted. A six month deployment would not annoy her in any great way, the more activity she was given, the happier she was.
She was nervous at the thought of dinner. She was head of Security and a chance to getting close to the Captain made her nervous.
"Yes Sir," She nodded to Winters and, with that, departed from the Bridge.

Seeing the officers beginning to depart, Thomas Alexander walked over to the Captain to introduce himself.

"Captain Winters. I'm Dr. Alexander. First Contact specialist. Star Fleet requested my presence as a consultant on this mission."

Harlan decided that he'd retire to his quarters for a few hours of restless sleep then go to dinner with the other senior officers. He saluted and departed the bridge as well, stepping into the turbolift with McKee. He admired Winters but felt like a raw recruit, standing next to a seasoned Captain such as Winters. Hopefully he'd prove himself as an able XO to the ship. Crew members were often frigid and difficult with new leadership, that was a given wherever one may go.

"That T'Pell's a real Sunny Sally, huh?" He joked

Seeing the officers beginning to depart, Thomas Alexander walked over to the Captain to introduce himself.

"Captain Winters. I'm Dr. Alexander. First Contact specialist. Star Fleet requested my presence as a consultant on this mission."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Dr.Alexander" Winters said as the other officers departed, "Your skills may come in handy on this deployment. I've never encounter new races before but I'm sure you have"

After spending some time getting familiar with her station on the bridge, LCDR. T'Pell went below deck to see if her luggage had arrived. Most if had. One suitcase full of some technical manuals was missing, but everything essential was present. A petty officer helped her take her belongings to her quarter's in officer's berthing section on level 9.

The Vulcan woman's room was empty except for a modest sized bed in a corner. The petty officer dropped her suitcases by the door, saluted, and left. T'Pell paced the room. This will be my home for six months, she thought. She came to a porthole on the starboard side. Outside she could see another starship undergoing repairs. And beyond that the vastness of space. Tiny lights of stars light years away flickered in the distance. Where will this voyage take me? she wondered. The possibilities were endless. She could have the privilege of being the first to study the indigenous species of some as-of-yet unexplored planet. She may even make the biggest scientific breakthrough of her generation. If she had been raised a different way the infinite opportunities out there would have excited her. Instead she appreciated it in a very clinical style.

Suddenly T'Pell realized something unsettling even for a logical being such as she: the fact that she might have to face battle. Starfleet was, after all, a military institution. All of the scientific equipment at her disposal on the Valiant hid the ugly truth of the vessel's existence: first and foremost, she was a machine of war.

Voyager-C resumed patrol of the Feds/Klingons border and scanned for the vessels. "They have an incredibly strong cloak. I wish we could penetrate it." the Captain stated.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Dr.Alexander" Winters said as the other officers departed, "Your skills may come in handy on this deployment. I've never encounter new races before but I'm sure you have"

"My work has mostly been academic, though I spent three of the last four years on Vulcan as an aid to Councilor T'var. In that capacity, I engaged in a number of diplomatic missions. Since then I've been teaching a course in First Contact procedures at the Academy, until I got offered this post. I look forward to serving beside an officer such as yourself, and will do whatever I can to assist this mission. I may not be Star Fleet, but I am a citizen of the Federation and I share in her highest ideals."

"She's a Vulcun," McKee shrugged, she, too was feeling that like a raw recruit compared to Winters, a man who knew his ship better than the men who had built it. She did feel uncomfortable but she knew that the Security Teams would be her baby, she could control them and drill them to her own specifications, she would be looking forward to it,
"Still, this should be fun,"

"She's a Vulcun," McKee shrugged, she, too was feeling that like a raw recruit compared to Winters, a man who knew his ship better than the men who had built it. She did feel uncomfortable but she knew that the Security Teams would be her baby, she could control them and drill them to her own specifications, she would be looking forward to it,
"Still, this should be fun,"

"Oh yeah" Harlan quipped, "It's going to be one Helluva a deployment" Harlan replied, watching the numbers of the turbolift. As it came to a halt and the doors opened, a group of personnel were waiting to enter, "This is my stop, see you at dinner" Harlan said as he stepped out and searched for his room.

He found his quarters. The light clicked on and to his suprise, his luggae was present. It was a nice room, spacious with all the fixings of a room for an XO. He took off his shoes and sat down on the bed, it was descently soft luckily. He contemplated unpacking but instead simply leaned back and closed his eyes, letting out a long drawn out sigh.

T'Pell started to unpack her items, but after half an hour she felt hunger rising inside her. She had not eaten since yesterday. Even Vulcans needed nourishment. She looked at the time. Dinner would be ready soon, so she went down one level to the wardroom.

"Okay, we need to head back to base, we are almost out of antimatter and we need more crew. These guys need some shore leave. Transmit message to Starfleet: Heading to nearest spacedock. Send replacement."

McKee travelled down another few floors from Harlan before she stepped from the Turbolift. She saluted one of the Security Officers standing by one of the doors. She took in the details of his appearance and she was not impressed. Sure, he was adequete, he passed for a Security but he was not the best she had seen. Well, she would make sure that this Security Force would be the best, able to repel any expected attack or unexpected attack. She would make them brilliant, up the standard of the Belfast's crew.
For the moment, she was happy to sit in the recreation room and watch the crew pass on their business.

(bump)

Klingon/Federation Border

Captain Tarak departed the bridge, content with frightening the Federation vessel. Of course Admiral Arcur would inquire but the two go back, Arcur had an agenda of his own and was more than glad to cover for Tarak, as long as no traces were left behind that would tie the two together. Arcur make himself look like the disciplinarian, condemning his subordinate's actions. It was all a political game. Hardliners called for a withdrawl of participation in the Federation while Moderates called for cooperation. Tarak had no respect for the humans but played their little protocol games.

He entered his private quarters and removed his gloves and vest. There was a red light flashing on a screen. He sat down and depressed the button.

"Captain Tarak" The voice said, tacked emotionlessness.

"It's good to hear from you, how goes the Project?" Tarak asked, elaning back.

"It's on schedule, everything is on schedule" replied the Voice, "And your end?"

Tarak smiled, "Of course, we've had a run in with a Federation ship-they are spooked and on alert"

There was a pause, "Good, then proceed with the next step, then"

Tarak smiled once more, nodding. He leaned forward and turned off the screen. He looked up at the dagger placed on his wall and found himself dreaming of the chance to use it once more...

Aboard USS Valiant

Harlan's eyes struggled to lift open, propelled by something egging at the back of his head. He would've enjoyed nothing more than to ignore it and fall back asleep but he was up now. He groaned and felt tightness in his back and struggled to stand up. A resounding crack enabled him to move better and he looked at the clock. It was enaring the time to eat with the CO and the other officers. He rummaged through the cases and bags to find his dress uniform. It was a little wrinkled from travel but would have to do.

After adorning the left chest above the pocket with his ribbons and medals and ensuring there was no loose end of string on the uniform, he stepped in front of the mirror and admired the image staring back at him. His mother welled with the tears the first time she laid eyes upon her son. That prud glitter in a mother's eyes was all any son could ask for.

"Well, here it goes" He winked and left his quarters.

T'Pell found she had arrived early. The wardroom was completely empty when she entered, with the exception of one tired looking crewman hurriedly setting the table. He looked up at the lieutenant commander as he placed a plate in front of the captain's chair at the head of the green cotton cloth-draped table. He smiled insincerely, forgetting that Vulcans do not care for such niceties and deemed them illogical, said "Good evening, ma'am," and continued his work. T'Pell took her seat and waited for the other officers. She quickly checked that her uniform was a shining example of perfection -- and it was. Two freshly polished medals decorated the tight blue blouse she wore: the Vulcan Science Commendation and the Federation Medal of Honor. She had won the latter when she assumed command of USS Yorktown after both the captain and executive officer died during an attack by a giant green gaseous entity. A full lieutenant then, she successfully guided the ship out of harm's way.

Footsteps echoed in the distance.

Harlan smoothed out the diagonal wrinkle along his left pant leg. It faded a little but still noticeable to anyone looking for that sort of thing. He stepped through the hallways, past several Seamen who were busy cleaning the walls. Even in this day and age, they did all the grunt work. They wore coveralls and worked hard, naturally so that their Chief would stay off their backs. These were the motions played out time and time again. He nodded at them as they scrubbed away, one looked up and nodded back as well.

The Captain was more than likely still busy about whatever it is needed doing. He enjoyed being early. It was always better to be early and have time to sit around and compose yourself than to run in late, out of breath and unprepared. This he learned the hard way, of course.

The sensors opened the door and it slid open to the Dinner Room. It was where the Captain could entertain guests and have dinner with whomever he desired. It was a spacious dinner area with a long, ornate table with all the settings in place. He saw LCDR T'Pell.

"Good evening, T'Pell" Harlan smiled. Smiles were 'illogical' but it was habit anyways.

"Good evening, Commander," T'Pell said. She somewhat regretted not being able to return the smile, as she preferred to keep with human traditions, however illogical they were, when working with them--simply to keep relations smooth--but even a feigned expression of emotion was an expression of emotion; and the need to maintain a consistently blank face had been drilled into her at a very young age. As Harlan sat down in the seat opposite her, she asked, "How are you this evening, sir?" The words sounded bizarre coming from her mouth in her cold, matter-of-fact tone. This what humans generally do after greeting somebody, right? she wondered.

Harlan took a seat opposite T'Pell. Her uniform was crisp, everything aligned according to regulations and saw the highly respected Medal of Honor, he'd heard about her exploits a few years ago, quite admirable indeed. His career was less amazing, a few stand-offs with Klingons, a handfull of emergencies but nothing special, mostly quiet tours of duty.

"I'm doing quite well, actually" Harlan replied light heartedly, "I think you were about to smile there" he pointed, smiling.

The commander's comment incited mild annoyance. She struggled, but succeeded, in suppressing the feeling. "Nonsense. That would be highly illogical," she said coolly. She had no choice but to deny the accusation.

Silence engulfed the room for a minute. T'Pell saw Harlan grow uneasy and thought about a way to end the quiet. Finally, she decided on a topic, not realizing that the XO would find it dull: "What do you think of the new improvements on the ship's warp drive system? Efficiency has been increased by 14.067%. We can now maintain speeds of warp 8 and above for almost half an hour. Theoretically, we could even reach warp 11 and stay like it for 6 minutes before facing inevitable and permanent damage to the core. Of course, it would be extremely risky."

"Riiight" replied Harlan, he gauged it was best to leave the topic of 'emotions' for another day, perhaps many many days later...more than likely never. It was a funny comment, smiling being illogical. He respected but couldn't understand Vulcans to save his life.

Before Harlan could go further with his remarks, T'Pell changed the subject to something to do with warp drives. He was not a technical man, despite having a degree in engineering it was more to allow him to advance in rank than to actually apply the skills. Warp Drives were far too complex, they were great for travel through space, he knew that for certain. If they explode, that's bad-another given. What else? The lights are bright, he knew that as well. Their basic function and some more in-depth topics he knew but any deeper and he's lost.

"I think it's a great improvement" Harlan feigned intrest quite well, "What will they think of next?"

Despite her unique understanding of mankind, T'Pell failed to see that the commander's interest was not genuine. "I read in a recent issue of Starfleet Weekly that they are close to finding the key to getting past the galactic barrier. Calculations indicate that a sudden burst into the barrier at a speed of warp 13 would allow a starship to get through safely. Estimates say that we will be capable of briefly reaching such a high speed within the next 3-4 years. Of course, it will probably be an all-Vulcan manned vessel that makes the first attempt, as we are for some reason immune to the dangerously strong psychic energies of the barrier." She was going to continue, but she heard the door open behind her.

"...though if such vessels are to be manned consistently in space, then shield harmonics shall have to be strengthened by a rate of 5% for each .7 of a lightyear travelled, meaning the shields shall require more power than the warp drives themselves," McKee smiled as she settled down in the third empty chair around their table. She liked to think of herself as quite an Engineering enthusiast, though it was not in her line of work. People who underestimated the cute Irishwomen soon found themselves reeling under her sharp tongue and sharper knowledge.

"That is indeed true," T'Pell said. She turned around to see LCDR. McKee behind her. "Good evening, commander."

Thomas looked around his quarters. They were nothing fancy; a metal desk and chair, a bed set against the wall, a single small port hole. He smiled. He'd had better acomadations, but it was luxury for a military vessel.

Going over to the desk, he sat down and turned on the computer. Inputting a data card, he selected the musical file for Earth's classical period and sat back, eyes closed, letting it play. But he couldn't relax. After traveling here, he was caught in that uncomfortable phase where one is tired but unable to sleep. After ten or twenty minutes he got to his feet, turned off the computer, sealed his quarters, and went out to familiarize himself with the ship and grab a bite to eat.

Voyager-C raced back to spacedock at Warp 9.997. Arriving a mere five minutes later, she quickly docked. "We need to hurry! Our crew replacements and supplies are here, we need to transition and then get the h!@# back to the border! All hands, this is the Captain. Meet with your replacements, explain the current situation and then disembark. Captain out." Aelita was exhausted, but she needed to protect the Federation at all costs.

(OOC: bump)

It was a much joyful relief to hear McKee's voice bash the awkward silence punctuated with a Vulcan's monotone droll about engine outputs. Her statement probably put an end to the conversation. From time to time he gathered the suspicion that he wasn't the most knowledgeable officer in the Fleet. But, none of that really mattered, there were other people who's job it was to know those kind of topics.

"The Captain must be with something" Harlan noted, observing the clock was slowly but surely ticking away, past the appointed time for the dinner. The cooks were in the back, waiting to bring the food out but were weary as to enter the dinning room without the Captain present.

"Good to meet you both," She nodded to both T'Pell and Harlan. She was sitting in the third chair and, like the other two, she was starving. She hadn't eaten since she had arrived on the vessel and now she was looking forward this dinner like she had looked forward to nothing else before. She was almost drooling at the thought of food entering her mouth.
She smiled at Harlan,
"It seems that way," She agreed, "I wonder if he is always late like this?" She knew of some Captains who, despite their eternal efforts, could not make it to a dinner or arrangement in time.

As Harlan was about to reply, the Intercom buzzed overhead.

"Attention crew of the Valiant, this is your Captain speaking" Captain Winters said over the ship's comms. Every hand stopped what they were doing. From the engineers working on the warp drive, to the cooks waiting in the hall, as the food grew cold, "We are to get underway immediately, all personnel report to their stations now"

The message resounded throughout the ship as it suddenly exploded with activity. The loading personnel feverously finished loading the remaining containers. Pre flight checks were being conducted and checked again. Engineering Department finialized preperations to engage the propulsion system.

"Looks like dinner will have to wait" Replied Harlan as he jolted up from the seat, throwing the napkin to the table, disappointed that they go underway on an empty stomach. He knew his presence would be needed on the bridge so he made his way as quickly as possible. Something was not right, this was too soon to be deploying. The Captain's voice was stern with authority.

"It is not logical to be tardy during the first dinner with your new officers," T'Pell noted. "First impressions are everything." Before anybody could comment on her statement, the captain's announcement was heard over the intercom. She rose and took the nearest turbolift to the bridge, wondering as she walked swiftly, yet not in a rush, What is going on? Whatever it was, it was big, she knew.

The hatch to the bridge opened and Harlan stepped forward, observing the Captain grapple the hand railing tight, observing the flury of action at the stations below him. It turns out that Lt. Subashi was the Master Helmsman for the ship. He checked his gauges and giggled the handles tenderly to ensure they weren't loose. It explained why he walked so quickly and with purpose.

"Captain, what is going on?" Harlan asked, perplexed.

The Captain turned around and placed his hands behind his back, "We've received a flash message from StarFleet Command. It states that the reserach station Galileo, which is currently working on a project of extreme sensitivity has initiated its' duress signal. All comms with the station has failed and we are to investigate" Winters replied quickly, "I know this isn't the start you were looking for. Ship Orientation and I'm afraid, dinner will have to wait"

"I understand, captain" Harlan replied.

T'Pell entered the bridge right after CDR. Harlan and heard the captain's explanation. She thought this a curious way to begin a deployment, but reasoned there was no harm in starting off with a true test of her skills. She took her post at the science station, on the port side and 10 feet from the captain's chair.

- - -

Meanwhile, Senior Chief Petty Officer Euchrid McCoy, division CPO for security rounded up his men to get them ready. The chief was pumped and ready for action. "Alright, boys," he said, "I don't know what's going to be happening. We may be called on, we may not. Either way, I want everybody on alert."

McKee was right behind the other two Officers and she took up her position behind the tactical console, directly behind the Captain's chair. She was nervous, not about the equipment, for she could work that in her sleep. She had spent her whole commission on consoles such as this and even the occasional new upgrade or model did not phase her. She was more than happy about the equipment. She was more nervous about where they were going. If they were going into battle with the Klingons. She shivered slightly. She had fought them before and they were far from pleasant.

Yet, in the middle of all the confusion, her stomach grumbled. She was starving!
Dinner could wait though. And it always did.

Thomas Alexander made is way through the maze of corridors, still filled with pre-launch activity. Crates were being loaded, crew were coming aboard. Lost, he finally found a directory pointing him towards the main mess hall. After several minutes, a pair of wrong turns, and two turbolift rides, he arrived. He had just sat down with a plate of food when the alarm sounded. Sighing, he threw out the rest of the meal, got to his feet, and headed back towards the bridge. He arrived to find the rest of the crew already on station. It took him only moments to find out what was happening. He thought about asking the captain, but their was no point. The captain was busy enough now, and would not appreciate interference from a civilian. Questions could wait until after they had launched.

The Captain went to the Comms Station as the order was being brought up on the screen. He typed in a specific code given to him before every deployment. But this was a flash message with further instructions. As the code was registered, it required a second code.

"Commander Harlan, your authentication-please" Winters asked, stepping away from the console.

Harlan didn't come fully unprepared for this assignment. He recalled the important paperwork he received. At the console he typed it in, verifying the Flash Message.

"I concur, Captain-the message is authentic" Harlan's tone suddenly switched into the tone a Commander's voice should carry during formal proceedings.

Captain Winters red it to himself and deleted the message. He turned to the others, "Inform Orion Docking Command that we are departing and request that the cupplings be detached"

"Aye, Captain" The Comms Technician replied.

After a few minutes, the magnetic cupplings detached Valiant from her docking station. The ship's thrusters eased, allowing the ship to naviagate away from the docking station and through the open port.

The Captain eased himself into the chair, grunting quietly. He murmured from time to time about retiring but there was always something that kept him in StarFleet. This happens alot in the military.

"Ease us out of port and come bearing 1130" Captain Winters ordered, observing the screen.

"Come about bearing 1130, aye" Lt.Subashi echoed, obeying to the letter. The vessel maneuvered past the other transports and ships, out into open space.

"Good Luck, and God's speed" Radioed Orion as Valiant departed the outter most post.

Harlan stood by, watching the Captain command his vessel with ease, like a well oiled machine. This was something he'd yet to master.

Thomas felt the usual mix of excitment and anxiety, the latter enhanced but the sudden, mysterious nature of their departure. He wondered again, in a wistful way, what had made him choose this over a safe teaching job on Earth. But he knew the answer. He had entered politics because he wanted to understand how the world was being shaped, and to be their when it was happening. He had studied First Contact Diplomacy because he believed in cooperation with new species, exchanges with new societies. He wanted to be out their where things were happening, not stuck in his class room or his office for the rest of his career. Besides, he thought with amusement, he was not entirely without ambition. He could have been on the fast track to the Council now if not for his long stay working on Vulcan, but as long as he remained in his classroom, he was in a dead end.

Senior Chief McCoy sat in a chair in the ship's security office, sipping conservatively at a cup of freshly brewed coffee. Every few seconds he would receive a confirmation from one of the security squads that they were at their assigned locations. As he lazily confirmed these messages, he wondered what was in store the Valiant. Space was a bizarre place, he knew, where you could never know what to expect from day to day. That singular lack of routine characteristic of the life of a starship crewman was what had drawn him to Starfleet almost 30 years ago, and it was what kept him there. In that time the chief had seen the most amazing--and horrifying--things. He felt blessed for his fortune in having had such a fruitful existence.

After the final confirmation came in, McCoy pressed the Starfleet logo on chest, and said, "McCoy to McKee. All security standing by."

He lost himself in reminiscence about the time he and landing party from the Yorktown visited a planet of 8 foot tall women. God, the universe can be so amazing, he thought. He grinned mischievously.

T'Pell read over a massive stream of information pouring into her console at speeds that humans could only envy. The data was mostly mundane facts about conditions in the surrounding area of space. So far, there was nothing of danger to the ship. There was also information from engineering, which summed up, was "All systems ready." She realized that were she human, she would probably be what they called 'bored.'

"Message recieved McCoy, McKee out," McKee replied to McCoy before going back to her control console.
There was little to do at the moment and so she contented herself to simply check that everything was ready for battle in theory. She would not truly know until she was given a chance to actually use the weapons. Under normal circumstances, new Starfleet vessels were dispatched on a three week test mission where everything from phasers to the coffee machine were fired time and time again to see if they were reliable enough for months-long missions into space. She would have fired all phaser banks, all the missile launchers and all the internal and external shields. The Warp and impulse engines would also have been given a shakedown along with the sensors that would have to be labourious scanned and scanned again to make sure that their readings were as perfect as one could get them. The trials were long and boring but McKee knew the reasoning behind them. After all, no one was perfect and all it would take was one Worker to sneeze as he was putting the power couplings for the phasers in to cost hundreds if not thousands of lives.
For now though, it seemed that they had skipped the dull part and were going right into action. Quite a fun task. She was similtanously nervous and looking forward to it.

Voyager-C shot off toward Galileo station soon after Valiant. "Voyager to Galileo. Come in Galileo. Darn! Looks like this is for real." Captain Hopper gave a sigh and ordered a Yellow Alert.

Thomas watched the starry void of space blur past. Everyone was at their station, and now their was nothing to do but wait while time crept by. Thomas yawned, rubbed his eyes, and tried to stay awake. He wished he had a cup of coffee.

Winters listened as the different commands sounded off the all clear. He gripped the arm rest tightly. He could never, despite all those years of service, the feeling of warp drive. Of course stabalizers have come a long way to prevent your skin from peeling off and organs exploding, but that nautious feeling remained, though if only briefly.

The Warp Drive hummed in the engine compartments. On a colsole was an image of the ship was divided into sections. One by one they turned green. Finally, all compartments were green.

"Mr.Subashi, Warp Speed 8, if you will" Winters commanded.

Subashi thought to himself, as did many throughout the Bridge, why the Captain insisted upon Warp Speed 8. It would put tremendous strain on the drive but the Captain had a reason for it, "Warp Speed 8, Aye Captain" he echoed and initiated the warp drive.

Harlan stood by, steeling himself for the first bump that was accompanied with going at a speed of that velocity.

The engines spun and hummed. With the flash of brilliant lights, USS Valiant entered into warp speed 8 and disappeared, moving faster than light.

Research Station Galileo

The massive research station hovered over a distant, uninhabited planet named Netura II. A rocky, dry planet that hadn't seen a drop of water in millions of years. Massive, continent-sized snadstorms can rake across the planet with its' hostile atmosphere. Asteroids impact the planet regularily due to the surrounding asteroid belt. Luckily, the research station was in the gravitational arc that buffered it from the asteroids. Early warning and other preventative measures protected the massive station with a population of 320researchers, scientists, engineers, and other technicians.

The men and women aboard were commissioned by the Federation to research a plethera of topics, there were also rumors of a deeper, more secretive mission for the station. Vulcans, Romulans, Humans, and other species compromised the team, headed by Dr.Jonas Tybalt, a respected scientist, though sometimes outspoken for his political views. This position served as a way to put him off to the side but keep him in the light.

Sadly, the normally peaceful atmosphere of the station was interrupted, with tragic consequences. Inside, the lighting system was damaged, basking large amounts of it in darkness. Bodies were strewn about, the whole station was is disorray. A force moved through the hallways, searching every avaliable space, every compartment, every locker, in desperate search for something.

A young woman ran, pumping her legs as hard as possible. She glanced back to see three figures, donned in suits approach. As she darted down another corridor, phaser fire errupted behind her, shooting up sparks. The woman entered a room and locked the door behind her, there were others in the room.

"What's going on?!" Asked another doctor, terrified.

"T-They're coming" The woman gasped, out of breath. They stood still, praying for the passing of boots. Sadly, the boots stopped at the door. Suddenly, the key code turned green and the door slid open.

They staggered back, slowly, like cornered beasts. The woman's eyes broadened with disbelief, "You?"

The figure raised a phaser began firing, screams echoed down the hallway...

"Captain," McKee was frowning at something on her console, tapping a few buttons to ensure that the readings she was recieving were accurate. She shook her head again and tried to clarify the information again, again it came up the same result, something was not right,
"Captain, We're detecting Phaser fire several lightyears ahead." She frowned again, there was nothing in this area that should have provoked a response. Something was wrong. Badly wrong.

Winters turned in his chair, contemplating the information, "Check your readings again. There could be a hundred reasons why your sensors are going off"

Harlan realized that though he'd wish nothing more than for it to be an anomoly, deep down inside it was the Research Station. It's duress signal, lack of communication, and now this, there was no other explination.

"Mr.Collins" Harlan asked LCDR Collins, the communication officer, "Check the communications again"

"Aye, Commander" Collins began to punch in some numbers, checking the frequencies and attmepting to make contact, "Nothing"

"What exactly is the issue?" Harlan asked

"I-I can't quite tell, give me a few minutes" Collins asked, working dilligently. After a few more inutes he turned, facing Harlan and shaking his head, "The signal is being jammed"

"Can you work around it?"

"Negative, this is a different frequency, a different encryption and everything, it's nothing like a normal channel" replied Collins, "Its..."

"Alien?" Harlan suggests. Winters gives a perplexed look but said nothing, opting to instead sit silently, deep in thought.

"Ms. McKee" Winters finally said, "Ensure you have a security detail ready to investigate, we'll be arriving at the station in two hours"

Thomas Alexander frowned, starting upright and listening intently to exchange between the officers. This was not good. Lives were on the line, if not lost already. An apparent attack on a Federation research station by alien entities could not go unanswered. He knew it might be too late for diplomacy. But he had to try, and it was his job. Trying to shake off his tiredness and his anxiety, he got to his feet and approached the Captain's chair.

"Sir, do you intend to attempt a diplomatic solution? I am trained in the protocols for First Contact situations. Perhaps I can be of service."

"I'm sorry, Doctor" Winters waved his hand, "I'm afraid this matter may require a level of force above your capabilities"

Harlan began to think about his own answer to what the problem at the station was. If this was indeed an attack of some sort, then he would get his first chance at combat, though under undesireable circumstances. Also, this could have resounding consequences. What exactly was being researched there?

"Sorry Captain, but I have seen these kinds of readings before. They are being emitted from numerous sources, most likely handheld," She shrugged, "I can detect nothing more from this range." She listened to the conversation between the Officers and she knew that it was something wrong as well. Despite her job, she did not enjoy military confrontations where death and injury amongst friends was highly likely.
She heard the instructions directed to her and nodded to indicate that she had understood them,
"Aye Sir," She tapped her symbol, "Mckee to McCoy, have a team prepared for an Away Mission in two hours. Hostiles to be expected."

Senior Chief McCoy was roaming the Valiant, checking on the men under him, when the message from LCDR. McKee arrived. A rush of energy hit him. "Yes, sir!" he replied with the enthusiasm of a young recruit preparing to go on his first real mission. He began contacting security crewmen and telling them to meet him in the security office. As he did he thought, I wonder what's in store for me this time. Whatever it was, he was ready. The chief had seen combat before, and he had encountered some of the most bizarre creatures imaginable--and some too strange for the mind to even conceive on its own. He knew to expect the unexpected, and though there was a bit of fear--it was only natural--he met each new experience with the courage of a warrior and the spirit of an adventeurer.

"Sir, will you be needing me on this mission?" T'Pell asked. "If the events at Galileo are in any way associated with their research there, my scientific knowledge may be vital."

"I'm sorry, Doctor" Winters waved his hand, "I'm afraid this matter may require a level of force above your capabilities"

Though he knew it was probably no good, Thomas felt he had to speak up. But they had two hours, and it would only antagonize the Captain to question him in front of the crew. Besides, he was reluctant to confront the issue. He knew it was illogical to want to put it off, maybe even dangerous, but that was how he felt.

"Sir, it'll be two hours before we make contact. Can I speak with you in private before then?"

(OOC: Bump.)

IC: "Voyager to Valiant. Captain Winters come in. What the heck is going on!? We're picking up phaser fire about seven light years away from you, and you're heading that way!" Captain Hopper wanted an update as soon as possible. She promptly ordered Red Alert and accelerated Voyager-C's engines to full power (Warp 9.999). The starship trembled under the strain, but it would hold up long enough to get to the position of the phaser fire.

(OOC: Bump once more.)

OOC: Let's refrain from constant bumping.

"Permission granted" WInters told T'Pell

Winters looked to the Doctor, "Sure, Doctor" he replied and stood up and the two of them walked over to the side, away from the rest of the crew on the bridge, "What can I help you with?"

Thomas sighed.

"Thanks Captain. With all due respect, I feel that we should at least attempt diplomacy. Negotiation is one of Star Fleet's finest traditions, and weather its Klingons or some unknown alien out there, I don't think any of us want a war.

Of course, I'm just a diplomat. Not even Star Fleet. I don't even know why I was assigned here. But as a civilian observer and consultant representing the Federation, I must recommend this course of action."

T'Pell heard Captain Winters' conversation with Dr. Alexander. She turned away from her console and said, "It would be logical to not consider strategy until we know exactly what the situation is. Of course, violent conflict should be avoided unless necessary, but we may find ourselves unable to negotiate."

"I would agree with T'Pell sir," McKee offered her opinion to the crisis. As a security Officer and a career of fighting behind her, she thought she could offer her opinion and it would be valued. Of course, she had made her fair share of bad judge...but they were in the past, what mattered was now,
"It is reasonable to assume that the Inhabitants of the Galileo also tried diplomacy before this fighting broke out. Their diplomacy must have failed."

(OOC: Bump.)

OOC: Enough with the bumping already!

OOC: I would quit bumping if it would stay on the board! Nobody's posting!

OOC: Welcome to NationStates!

He took in all their imput into consideration, "I understand your concerns, Dr.Thomas but the issue is that we have reports of phaser fire, a jamming signal that is non-Federation, and a duress signal. This is all protocol that we take these measures"

Winters reassumed his seat in the Captain's Chair, "Commander Harlan, what is your take on this?"

Harlan popped up, "It's a sensitive situation, Captain" he cleared his throat, "But our foremost concern is the safety of the crew and the ship. So, this requires a stronger approach"

"I concur" Winters responded, his voice was traced with finality, "Dr.Winters will remain on the ship. We will begin a scan of the surrounding area for any signatures. If that's clear, then McKee's security team will conduct a sweep of the station. If they find any of the personnel and its' all clear, then you may go down and assess the situation"

"Sir, we'll be arriving at Galileo Station in approximately fifteen minutes" SUbashi said.

"Alright, begi a scan for any energy signatures in the area" Winters ordered LTJG Denise Gage.

"Aye, Captain" Gage replied.

As LCDR. T'Pell read the data on atmospheric conditions in the vicinity of Galileo, she suddenly realized something: an old colleague of hers, a half-Human/half-Vulcan scientist named Spaslik was assigned to the research station. Spaslik was notiorios for having rejected the Vulcan way, but all agreed that he was one of the most brilliant scientific minds alive today. She wondered if he was alright, and deep down, tucked away by her intense mental discipline and beyond the realm of her conscious awareness, she felt... worried.

A red light flashed at her console, and a message appeared on her screen. "Captain, I am detecting the presence of some unknown substance on Galileo. The computer tells me little. It does even say if it is a gas, solid, or liquid. It simply tells me that it's there." She raised one of her eyebrows. "Most fascinating," she said.

Thomas Alexander nodded. He regretted letting the other officers overhear; he had not wanted to question the captain's decision in front of his officers. Most captains might take offense to that, but fortuanately Winters seemed of a different sort. Even still, it was a matter of protocol, and respect.

At any rate, he couldn't fault Star Fleet for being careful. He just hoped the situation would prove stable enough to attempt a diplomatic solution.

As soon as the sensors picked up a register on an unknown object, the screen suddenly went blank, the object disappeared entirely from the sensors. The vessel was fast approahing the coordinates.

"Mr.Subashi, take us out of warp drive, if you will" Captain Winters ordered.

"Aye, Captain" Subashi complied, drawing back on the controls. Engineering Department made their calculations and gave the clear to slip from waro drive. The ship shuttered as it came out of warp speed and the main screen displayed the station.

The damage was apparent. Sveral sectors of the exterior were charred and crippled. The station was out of its' ordinary orbit and as charts proved, was slowly being pulled closer to the planet below. This multiplied their woes as there would be a set time before the station entered the atmosphere.

"Scans are coming up negative for any other signatures in the area, Captain" Gage commented, perplexed by the instruments. There was a brief interruption, only a blink of an eye.

The Captain leaned forward in his chair and contemplated the next moves, "McKee, assemble your security detail. You will dock at this docking station here on the aft end" Winters pointed at an undamaged dock, "Sweep and clear the station. You'll have to hurry because the station is being pulled by the gravity from the planet, be careful"

"T'Pell, you will accompany the secuirty detail as well as you, Commander Harlan" Winters added

"Yes, Captain" Harlan replied instantly. Then, it finally hit what was about to happen. He'd be boarding with the team, into the unknown, Dammit

"Aye, aye, Captain," replied T'Pell. She entered the turbolift.

Several deck levels below the bridge Senior Chief McCoy and a small security detachment of 5 men waited.

As they waited, McKee entered the room as well and looked at the Security Team,
"Remember, we are looking for Survivors here as well. Keep within eye contact with each other and report anything immediately," She instructed. She was going into the unknown with an unknown Security team. With her own Teams on the Belfast, she would have had no problems. Sadly this was not her team,
"Captain, McKee here, we're ready to beam aboard," She reported to the Bridge, then she saw Harlan enter and gave a small smile,
"Commander," She stated by way of greeting, "Am I to be outranked?"

Senior Chief McCoy sense McKee's uneasiness over embarking on a mission with her new security team so soon. "Don't worry, sir," he said reassuringly, "my boys are alright. They'll do the best they can." He looked at Lieutenant Commander T'Pell, who stood to the left of the security officer with her hands behind her backs. He was pleased to have her joining them. The chief had been on the Yorktown when then Lieutenant T'Pell assumed command and led the ship to safety. She handled the whole situation shockingly well, the way any intelligent, experienced captain would have. It amazed him to think that this Vulcan was a scientist by profession, not a line officer.

Harlan ensured his armored vest was strapped snuggly to his body. He suited up and checked out a hand phaser from the armory. He hadn't the slightest clue why the Captain wanted him to accompany the initial security team, perhaps a test? Or something else? He was nervous, having never engaged in combat before and only fires a phaser during the semi-annual weapon qualifications course. His aim was alright, grouping descent enough. Not like the Commander could launch a one-man war like in the old action movies.

"Sorry, Commander" Harlan offered a smile back, "You're in charge here. This isn't my area of expertise.

In the Transportation room, the security team with Harlan, McKee, and T'Pell stepped onto the circular discs on the ground. The technicians stood behind their control boards and honned in on the transporter's aboard the Galileo.

Winters sat aboard the bridge, his cool demeanour hid the true feelingds beneath, "Go ahead"

The technician hit the controls and the team beamed aboard the station.

What Senior Chief McCoy loved most about going on missions was beaming down. The technology never ceased to amaze him, though he could never get his mind around the technical details--he knew something about a Heisenberg compensator, but that was it. Most of all he enjoyed the suspense. There was no way of knowing what he would face when he rematerialized. In fact, he did not even know if he would. Every time he stepped into the transporter pod, he put his life at risk. A minor malfunction could permanently trap his atoms in the machine, or his body could reform with his leg on his head and his brain in his stomach.

He gave everybody in the away team a final glance. He wondered if they would all return to Valiant alive. Luckily the chief had faith in his men, however, as well as in Lieutenant Commander T'Pell. It was an honor to put his life in their hands. As for LCDR. McKee and CDR. Harlan, though he had yet to get to know them, they seemed like good, reliable officers; he just hoped his first impressions were correct. The chief focused his eyes forward and straightened his body. He watched as a technician slowly pulled back on the handle. A familiar sensation came over him--that funny feeling one gets as the transporter prepares to break the bonds which hold the atoms of your body together and convert them into pure energy. Here we go, McCoy thought. A fraction of a second later he and the others were dematerialized.

McKee's first reaction upon beaming down was to take out her phaser and scan the immediate area for any signs of Hostiles. When she was satisifed that there were none. She looked around at her team,
"Spread out and secure the room. Do not advance beyond this point until we can be sure of our plan for action." She was back where she belonged, commanding troops in the middle of a potentially hostile situation. She did not know about the others but she was secretly loving this.

McCoy whipped out his phaser with the ease and speed of a pro. He reminded himself of a cowboy in one of the old mid-20th century cowboy films he had a secret passion about. He could picture himself as one of those heroes of the wild west, beating another man to the draw. He and two petty officers took positions in the northeast corner of the room.

T'Pell removed her phaser from its holster as the others did, but without the passion of McKee or the Senior Chief. She made a quick sweep of the room with her eyes, taking in every detail. Once she was sure that only the landing party occupied the space, she took out her tricorder from a small bag slung around her right shoulder. Holding the phaser in her left hand and the multipurpose scanner in the other, she rapidly reviewed the information on the tiny screen. "I am detecting the presence of the same unknown substance I did on the bridge," she announced as she followed the security officer. "It is stronger now--very strong. I estimate we are within 50 feet of it. I am also picking up sparse signs of life throughout the station. There is also atmospheric disturbance." The last bit was already known to the crewmen of the Valiant: it was freezing cold, and the air was unusually thin; the conditions were similar to those on the top of the mountain. "It is possible that the life support systems have been tampered with."

"It's very possible that the life support system was damaged" Harlan noted. His phaser was at the ready, a stance which had the phasder out of the holster but angled downwards. His eyes adjusted to the dim lighting as some lights flickered on and off repeatedly. There was obvious signs of phaser fire. Scorch marks along the walls. Pieces lying on the ground. Papers were strewn about the compartment.

The security detail swept the room. Harlan stepped to the side and noticed one of the monitors was undamaged. He moved up to it and began browsing through the files. The station wasn't attacked for no reason. He was aware that the scientists here were working on very important and sensitive projects. Projects that would benefit others to have. As a Federation-funded station it already had a target on it. Though, no one imagined that a civilian station would be attacked.

The computer was locked. He grunted and pulled up a holo display of the station from a device carried in his bag, "If we head to the secuirty room, one level up- we could get a better picture of what happened" Harlan commented.

Meanwhile, Captain Winters sat nervously in his chair, observing everything through miniature cameras that were on their suits. The place looked like a war zone.

"Alright then, Sir," McKee nodded and looked at her Security team, "We'll move up one Floor. Everyone keep your eyes and ears open. I don't want to be ambushed by some punk hiding in a corner somewhere. Follow me," McKee took the lead, despite knowing the risk she was enduring. She had always felt it better for an Officer to lead from the front, to set an example. It was never the best tactic if one wished to survive but it did give the Troops confidence to know that their Commanders where not afraid of what was out there.
But McKee was afraid. She was terrified in fact. The place looked as though it had staged a heavy battle of some kind, one where the Inhabitants had lost. They could be facing any numbers of Hostiles and any shadow could be holding a handful of them. A jerk, a flash of light and a burning pain could be McKee's last feelings in this life. Nevertheless, her breathing was even and soft, her hand steady as she crept through the corridors,
Back where she belonged.

The team made their way through the cooridors. The air was thin, cold. It was a near painful cold to inhale. Harlan felt a pain in his chest. The lack of oxygen and the cold were working against them. As well as the very real fact that the station was slowly spiraling around the planet, caught in its' gravitational pull. THey had maybe an hour before they entered the atmosphere.

Their lights swept the darkened corridors, stepping over debris. Harlan's ehart raced faster and faster, expecting to be ambushed or a mangked body drop from a ventilation shaft. They made their way up a level, having yet to discover any survivors or even any bodies. As they entered the secuirty room, with a wall bblanketed with monitors, some cracked and out of commission, some flickered, and some remained in operation. Blood smeared another wall, with several holes.

Harlan moved to the console and began typing away. The carmeras presently showed nothing of interest, just the same destruction they already witnesses. He went through the data files and pulled up a reel taken several hours ago, a random bit of footage from a cooridor, everything else was erased.

The screen showed a long cooridor. Then, three people in lab coats running for their lives. There was no sound, ust warped noises due to damage. As they ran, two other figures turned the corner and blasts of phaser fire momentarily flashes that blinded the camera. The figures moved down the cooridor, stepping over the scientists, stopping to inspect their work. The figures were in some sort of suits, with the visors down, protecting their identities. They pressed on...

"Dammit!" Harlan exclaimed, "If we had gotten here earlier, this could've been avoided. There's no way to tell who they are"

T'Pell tried her best to recover more footage from the computers, but to no avail. Whoever had deleted it had done so like a pro. It was curious that one piece survived, however. It was just another one of those unusual things that happens in life, the Vulcan knew, for which you can never find an explanation.

Giving up on finding more footage, she tried to access other computers in the station. She successfully managed to change the life support settings, raising the temperature somewhat, but it became clear that physical damage had been done. Afterward she began trying to find whatever information she could on the research being conducted on the station. Suddenly, though, there was a loud banging emanating from a closet. T'Pell paused and turned her head towards it.

Senior Chief McCoy signaled for everybody to be quiet. Slowly he walked towards the closet, his phaser pointed outwards and set to stun. He came to the door and stopped. There were sounds of movement, followed by a clanging. The chief took a deep breath and counted in his mind. One... Two... Three... He pulled the door open and jumped back. Out fell a man -- a Vulcan, to be exact. Sprawled out on the cold metal deck, he looked up and... smiled. "Hello, everybody," he said. He had a feigned posh British accent. He then looked at T'Pell. "Oh. Hello, love!" The lieutenant commander raised an eyebrow and said nothing, conscious of the eyes staring at her. "Well, aren't you going to introduce me?" the man asked. He stood and wiped dirt off of his lab coat.

Harlan turned and held his phaser grip tight, expecting God knows what to pop out of the closet. Senior Chief McCOy took the lead and opened the door and out spilled a Vulcan. Relieved, Harlan holstered the weapon and stood erect. The Vulcan seemed to recognize T'Pell.

"T'Pell" Harlan said, "Who is this Vulcan?"

Aboard Valiant, Winters sat stunned to see a survivor. The remaining crew on the Bridge were caught up in the play by play action aboard the station. They neglected to maintain situational awarness at their stations. As they watched, an irregularity appeared and disappeared on the rader screens, so quick that the signal didn't have time to register...

"He is... a former colleague of mine at the Academy," replied T'Pell nonchalantly, her hands clasped behind her back.

The Vulcan chuckled. "Yea, colleague... I suppose you could say that. The name's Spaslik." He faced CDR. Harlan, stood at attention and saluted. "Welcome to the Space Station Galileo, sir!" He laughed again. "Sorry to tell you that there's not much to see here, though. They came fast. Like bleeding Stormtroopers they were. I'm lucky I managed to survive." He briefly glanced at T'Pell, who was avoiding eye contact with him.

Harlan could sense a past history ebtween the two but pushed it aside as non pertinent at the current moment.

"What happened here?" Harlan inquired, "Who attacked the station?"

There were so many questions he wanted to ask but all in good time. The Voyager had a border run-in with three Klingon vessels that quickly retreated as soon as the Voyager called for assistance. Then, seemingly only several hours later, down the border to where the station orbited the planet, it's attacked and a non-Federation jamming singal blocked the channels. It began to add up to Klingon intervention but making such bold accusations this early were unwise, both realistically and diplomatically.

Harlan depressed his comms button, "Captain, could you send Dr.Thomas down, everything seems safe enough"

Aboard Valiant, Winters turned to Dr.Thomas and nodded

Spaslik leaned against a computer and answered Harlan's questions casually. "Well, I really don't know who... or what. Didn't get a good look at their faces. Tall, though. Very tall. And smelt kind of funny. I remember one making a weird grunting noise -- sort of reminded me of an old drinking buddy of mine. Anyway, there's just no way for me to know. I can tell you, though, that they've gotten their hands on some very sensitive information, and the repercussions for the Federation are great." He glanced back at T'Pell. "Sorry, but I can't go into details on the research, though -- compartmentalized classification, need to know and whatnot. You'll have to contact the Federation Science Directorate and ask for clearance. So, I take it I'm the only survivor you've found?"

"Our security team is currently sweeping the rest of the station, Commander McKee will see to that, You're the first we've found" Harlan admitted. He was perplexed as to what secret the scientists were working on and what documents were stolen and for what purpose. There weren't any military projects going on he was aware of. But then again, it was a highly secretive station. Many great advances were made here over the years.

"Do you know of the whereabouts of Dr.Jonas Tybalt, the station Director?" Harlan asked.

"Doc Tybalt? Nope. Haven't seen him in hours," Spaslik said. "Probably dead. His office is up one level if you want to check it out, though."

"Sensors report no life signs on the next level," replied T'Pell. Spaslik bent his head to see her and said, "Well, as I said, probably dead. No great loss, really. I always found him dull and too full of himself." He looked at Harlan again. "Anything I can do to help, Commander?"

"I'll examine his Office Sir," McKee suggested to Harlan. She had been watching the exchange between the Officers and had come to the same conclusion. They needed to get to the information, they needed to examine the phaser marks, they needed to find some evidence of who had attacked the station. She did not like dealing in probables and guesses. Guesses were for people who didn't have much on the line.
McKee looked to two of the Security Personnel and nodded,
"You two, with me, McCoy, you're in command of security down here" She lifted her phaser in one hand and a scanner in the other and headed from the room.

Thomas Alexander beamed down into the security control room of the station. He was glad to finally be doing something, but he wondered what exactly he was expected to do. He was a First Contact specialist, not a medic, technition, or security officer.

Looking around, he could see some security personel, the Valient's First Officer, the Vulcan woman from the bridge... T'pel, he thought her name was. Some of the security seemed to be heading out, probably to explore the rest of the station. Thier was also someone he did not recognize, a somehow... odd-looking Vulcan. Perhaps a survivor? He glanced around the room, feeling growing uneasy turning into feelings of anger, fear, and sadness.

The monitors were barely working. Their were holes in the wall, and what looked like blood. And he knew the marks left be phaser fire when he saw them. This place had been attacked, and it hadn't been pretty. He wondered if their were any other survivors, and how this Vulcan had made it, if he had been on board at the time of the attack. Well, he would do what he could to get answers to these questions. Perhaps they had some information on the attackers. If so, he might be able to identify them, and if so give some insight into their possible motivations or next move. But looking around this war zone, he could not help but feel increasingly useless. But their was no time for such feelings on the job.

"Who's in charge here? If you don't mind, I'd like to see any security tapes you've recovered, presuming my classification allows? Do you have any idea who attacked here?"

"Senior Chief McCoy is in charge of security. Commander Harlan is the ranking officer present," said T'Pell. "As for the security tapes--"

Spaslik interrupted. "They're gone. Just a tiny bit of footage, totally useless. Sorry, bud." He leaned against the starboard bulkhead, looking towards the ceiling. He appeared to be daydreaming. "And as I've already told them, I haven't a clue who attacked."

"Bud?" Thomas tried to keep the look of suprise off his face. That was unusual for a Vulcan. Of course, his time on Vulcan had taught him that like other species, Vulcans were not as homogenous as some might think. But this one must be a maverik by any standards.

"I'd like to see that footage, anyway." Somehow he doubted it would do much good. It obviously gave no clear information on the identity of the attackers, at any rate.

A minute later, having reviewed the footage, Thomas looked up from the monitor. He felt even more uneasy than before. He was no soldier, and he always felt odd watching even footage of a battle, knowing that it was actual people being cut down in front of him. Moreover, the knowledge that it had just happened here increased the sentiment. He glanced around the room again, wondering what it must have been like for the people here. As for the soldiers, or whoever they were...

"Dr Alexander to the bridge. I have reviewed the fragment of security tape. Their equipment does not match any I'm familiar with. The stealthy nature of the attack suggests Klingons or Romulans. The pressence of Klingons near here recently is suggestive, but it could be coincidence, or even a false trail. The Romulans have been known to share ship designs with the Klingons as well. I would point out that leaving the station intact, along with traces of their actions and possible survivors, does not fit the usual Klingon procedures insofar as I am familiar with them. Leaving traces like this seems odd. It suggests either an ill-executed attack, or else a deliberate trail of information, or misinformation. This would be more in line with Romulan tactics.

The trooper's gear is unfamiliar to me. Either the masks were an attempt to conceal their identity, or this is an unfamiliar force. While their is too little evidence to draw a solid conclusion, I would hazard a guess that this may be a First Contact situation. In that light, leaving traces of the attack could be seen as a form of test. However, I emphasize again that their is at present insufficient evidence to draw a definitive conclusion."


(OOC: I have a guess who the attackers are. I deliberately allowed my character to guess otherwise. Of course I'm probably wrong).

Harlan remained quiet, listening to the conversations but mainly trying to figure a solution to the current problem. All evidence, though circumstantional leads some sort of Klingon angle. If it was Klingon, why survivors? Maybe the Vulcan just got lucky? It's hard to determine anything conclusive. Not until the security team makes their final sweeps and the place is examined will they know for sure what happened. Time was running out, though. He knew this and everyone else was aware of it. Below, massive sandstroms blanketed the planet's surface. A hostile enviroment was all that surrounded them.

There was a certain air of mystery surrounding this whole mess. One known survivor, completely oblivious to what happened. Missing security footage save one thirty second clip and God knows what was stolen and why. All he knew is that there wa a time limit for their investigation before the station plummets to the planet.

"McKee, try and see if you can recover Dr.Tybalt's files. They are probably encrypted but see what can be done." Harlan asked, "We all have to move quickly before the station enters the atmosphere, it will interfere with beaming"

OOC: If you think you know who the attackers are, feel free to tg me, I am curious to see what your theory is.

(OOC: Hate to do this, but bump).

OOC: bump. post coming later today.

(OOC: Sigh... bump again).

Harlan stood around, flipping through ledgers and other paperwork. All the computer files were wiped clean of anything useful. Whoever attacked the station, though unafraid to leave their traces behind, didn't want to leave any traces of what they stole behind. The mystery only became more complicated when reports came in that no bodies were discovered. After several more minutes he slammed a fist against a wall.

"Dammit! He exclaimed to himself, but audible enough for the others, "There's nothing here"

Meanwhile, aboard Valiant, Winters too became impatient at the lack of evidence or information. He watched the screen

Spaslik stood next to T'Pell, who continued to avoid looking him in the eye. They had been arguing for several minutes over the best way to handle a hypothetical situation in which a Federation starship had been been mistaken for having hostile intentions and attacked.

"Darn it, T'Pell," the Vulcan man said, "are you ever going to see past pure logic? Logic has its advantages, but alone it is useless."

"This is a futile discussion," replied T'Pell. "It's clear that we are never going to change each others way of thinking."

Spaslik chuckled. "Yea, yea, you're right, I guess. Miss Logical wins." He moved a little closer to her. "You know, I've missed you. Despite your insistence on clinging to the foolish ways of our forefathers."

"You know perfectly well that I had no choice but to divorce you after you decided to embrace emotions. I would have been shunned on Vulcan if I had remained with you."

"T'Pell, T'Pell, T'Pell, my darling!" Spaslik exclaimed. He slapped himself on the forehead. "Don't you see that you're already an outcast among our people? You decided to join Starfleet. It's the second biggest transgression a Vulcan can commit, right after rejecting a life of logic."

T'Pell had no response.

When Spaslik heard Harlan's yelling, he felt a mischievous joy. He wanted to grin, but assumed a stoic facade. One good thing about all of those years of suppressing emotions, he thought, was that I learned to hide my true feelings perfectly. Being born a Vulcan wasn't so bad then, I guess. Nobody will suspect a thing.

After a few more anxious minutes, Winters grunted, "What's the status?" in the comms. He tired of hearing and knowing nothing about what occurred around him.

Harlan bit his lip and rolled his eyes. A security members chuckled to himself then looked away, "We haven't heard back from McKee yet, Captain. It looks like there's not going to be any traces of other people left aboard"

Aboard Valiant, Winters clasped his hands together, he wanted to say something but felt it best to remain quiet and see how Harlan will handle the situation.

Suddenly, the General Alarm buzzed throughout the ship, the radar officer, LCDR Hayworth looked up, "Incoming signature!"

Winters wheeled around, "What kind of signature?!"

"Too small to be a ship-" Hayworth uttered, but before he could continue, the ship was rocked by a small explosion along the starboard side. Winters fell out of his seat as the emergency alarms were raised and the ship's crew sprung into action. Damage Control Teams were summoned to the area of the hit, compartments that were compromised were sealed off so that the air wasn't sucked out or anything else for that matter.

"Raise shields!" Winters commanded as he helped himself back up, "Where's it coming from?!"

Hayworth scanned his instruments, "There's nothing on the radar, sir. It came out of nowhere!"

"Harlan, get everyone back on board" Winters said, trying to remain calm.

Before Halan could reply, another explosion rocked the bottom spiral of the station. The stabalizers were disrupted and the artificial gravity lost aboard the station. Harlan felt himself lift off the deck and throw his arms around wildly, trying to grasp what was happening.

"McKee!" Harlan barked into the comms, "Get your people out of here! We'll beam up frm here!"

"Aye, Sir,"

McKee, as if turns out, had been on her way back to the room, unable to make it through to the Captain's Office. Now she and the two men with her were floating through the station, back to the main group. She had just one question to ask Harlan as soon as she saw him,

"What's happening?"

Thomas felt the shock, then his feet rise off the deck. He tried to quell his rising panic, the feeling of complete helplessness as he floated free. It didn't take a tactician to figure it out. They were on a crippled station, a defenseless target for whoever was shooting out their. Still, he remembered enough of his zero-g training to not lose his orientation completely. He breathed a sigh of relief when the rest of the away team began to return. It was time to get out of here.

Suddenly the fun of the mission disappeared for Senior Chief McCoy, replaced by pure fear, as he was faced with the reality of one of the most precarious situations imaginable. A familiar weightlessness overcame him, and he watched in horror as he floated in the air. The space station tilted on one side. Through the porthole he saw the large planet below which would soon be the site of his grave if the men back aboard Valiant did not respond soon.

I'm not Charlie, the chief thought. And this isn't the fucking Chocolate Factory. It was a relief when he experienced the strange sensation preceding the transformation of his atoms into energy.

Harlan pushed his boots off the bulkhead and projected himself across the room to an opposite console. Upon clasping onto it and trying to get a figure on what was happening, he happened to look at the screen and see several files, heavily encrypted but intact. It was in jibberish, binarey code of some sort. It didn't make sense, but nothing else did. He pulled a small device out and plugged it into the console and downloaded the files.

"We need to be beamed up, now!" Harlan then said into the comms.

Aboard Valiant, Winters was taking contorl of his own problems. The ship and possibly the station were just fired on. Radar picked up no signatures and the shields were up. Whoever it was wasn't capitalizing on their key element of suprise. Valiant could've been destroyed before they even knew what happened.

Several decks below, the technicians worked to get a lock on each of the personnel aboard Galileo. The station began to list and gain velocity as it slowly entered the atmosphere. The shields for the station were heavily damaged and the outter layers of the station lite up as it descended through the atmosphere.

"Dammit, beam them up now!" Winters demanded, not willing to lose anymore people. In his time, he'd seen too much death due to the enemy as well as other causes.

The beams locked onto the personnel and one by one they were beamed aboard. Harlan asked to be the last one, the files were taking too long to be downloaded, c'mon! Hurry up! With each passing second, the station went further towards its' doom. Due to the heavy encryption, the files were taking far too long.

"Harlan, you're jeopardizing your life, you're being beamed up now!" Winters exclaimed.

Harlan grabbed the device, the files were only 80% downloaded before he phased out and disappeared...

McKee felt the famailiar sensation as she was beamed back to then Valient, a wave of relief ran over her. She was glad to have made it, even it had been cut pretty fine. She looked to her Security team, counting them all mentally to see that they were all here. They were.
The Irishwoman nodded to McCoy and the Other Security Personnel,
"Well done," She said simply as she left the Transporter room, "Mr McCoy, all Personnel to their stations."
It was not long before she was back on the bridge, taking back control of her console from the Ensign who had run it in her place. She was back where she belonged.

Harlan rematerialized just the way he was beamed, off the ground, stretched horizontally. SO, when the beam rearranged his molecules, he fell hard onto the deck, slamming his face against the beam pad. Luckily, in his hand was the device, outstretched.

"Tough day?" The technician joked

Harlan looked up and couldn't do anything but laugh. Of course, this was not the time for jokes. He dusted himself off and rushed back to the bridge. On the bridge, every station was in action as the entire ship braced for a battle. Reports came in of only eight or so personnel injured from the blast. It was a small one, aimed at an unimportant part of the ship.

"Status?" Winters asked,

"The damaged areas are secured, no deaths, sir" sounded off one, "Shields at max, life support is normal"

"Negative readings on every level, sir" shaked the head of another, "We're all alone it appears"

Winters was visibly angered. This aggressor fired and ran. The screen showed Galileo enter the atmosphere and dissappear from view towards the planet below. No telling how much money and funding just went down the drain.

"Lt. Subashi, get us back to Orion, there's no sense staying here anymore" Winters finally said, he turned to see Harlan enter the bridge. The look given carried overtones of disappointment and anger.

Harlan felt those burning eyes and said, "I think I have something of interest, Captain"

Thomas brushed himself off, ignoring the bruises as he climbed to his feet on the transporter pad. The officers were rushing to battle stations, and he felt the continuous prickle of fear as he made his way to the bridge behind them. He arrived without further incident. Whoever the attackers were, they seemed to have disappeared.

"Captain unless you'll be needing me here, I'd like to return to my quarters. I'll be available if needed however."

Spaslik stood by T'Pell on the bridge, observing the scene of controlled chaos with curiosity. It appeared that nobody noticed him, though; he might as well have been a ghost. Finally he made his presence known and said, "So, uh... What should I do?"

Winters arched an eyebrow, "After all that, that's all you have?"

Harlan exhaled deeply, the adrenaline still pumped forceably through strained veins, "There were a few files still left on a hidden hardrive, Captain. But because I was beamed up, there's some bits to the files missing but it's better than nothing"

The device was handed off to Petty Officer Landsman who took it with him down to another part of the ship to be analyzed. Harlan unzipped the front of his heavy vext and breathed a little easier.

"Whoever that was either wanted us to escape or were completely stupid" Winters commented.

"Probably the first part, Captain" Harlan replied, "This is all too suspicious. Dr.Thomas called it a trail of misinformation. Someone is either misleading us or using us for something"

"We can't afford to make the same mistake twice. The station is probably scrap on the planet's surface by now" Winters determined, "Now we have to return to Orion and meet with the Admiral, he wants a full debrief" his voice declined.

"Ummm... hello?" said Spaslik. "Can I at least get a room or something?"

(OOC: Bump, for all the good it will do).

OOC: Sorry, I've been awefully busy lately, moving from one side of the Atlantic to another.

Captain Winters, in the wake of what he saw a failure, turned a weary face to Spaslik, "You are not needed, StarFleet will want to debrief you, I'm sure"

The Valiant lumbered to the port side, coming about, turning its' tail to the planet. The crew, despite being silent, everyone had the same thought about the mission. It was a failure, pure and simple. The station was destroyed, only one survivor found, no leads, and their ship was briefly attacked. From the lowest engineman through Chiefs and up to the officer ranks, everyone was disappointed and began discussing their own theories. Too much mystery and not enough to do created a cauldron.

"They say the Klingons attacked and killed all those scientists" called one Seaman.

"Nah, it was some other race, the Romulans" A Petty Officer mused over a cup of coffee.

"Vulcans" another one gave his two cents, "Why else would they leave that Vulcan as the only survivor?"

After a hot shower and something to eat, Harlan relaxed into his chair, staring blankely at the opposite wall. He believd himself to have done well, despite the hastiness of the mission. Hopefully, the cryptotechs would decrypt those files and shed some light over this whole mess. Returning to Orion gave him an uneasy stomach. StarFleet, whenever there's a mishap, always scramnbles to place the blame on a certain person or persons nd end it quickly as possible. This was how the military operated. There was no threat of anyone losing their position, especially Winters, the respected Captain.

As Harlan mused about all those questions, something stirred in space, unbeknownst to the crew...

OOC: Sorry, I've been awefully busy lately, moving from one side of the Atlantic to another.

(OOC: Understandable. I was off Nationstates for quite a while when I moved across Canada this summer, and as a result one of my nations was also shut down for being inactive. I'm still quite bitter about it.:))

Spaslik was escorted from the bridge to guest berthing on level 3 by a long-faced, nervous looking security crewman on his first deep space tour. They engaged in small talk as the turbolift brought them down and as they walked down a deserted corridor. It was mostly the Vulcan talking, though. The shy security crewman mostly nodded and said, "Yea.

They came to outside the room Spaslik had been assigned. Before pressing the button to open the door, he turned to the crewman and said, "Well, buddy, it's been nice talking to you. Hope all goes well for you these next six months on Valiant. And hey, if you ever get the chance to take shore leave on Quaslar 5, you HAVE to visit the Slaughtered Tribble Cafe. Best coffee in this quadrant, I tell you." He extended his hand and offered a warm smile. The crewman took the hand, his own shaking, and wondered once again what was up with this Vulcan. All these years he had heard of the ones who rejected logic, but part of him doubted they had really existed; he honestly believed Vulcans simply couldn't feel emotion.

"Bye," the crewman said. He turned around to leave as the door to Spaslik's quarters opened. But before he had gone even two feet, he felt a sharp pain on his right shoulder and a sudden dizziness come over him. He knew at once what had happened--it was the infamous Vulcan nerve pinch--but this realization was in vain, for there was nothing he could do now. The shy long-faced crewman fell face first on the floor. Spaslik, a mischievous grin on his face, leaned down, turned the young man's head so he wouldn't suffocate, and grabbed his phaser and wandered off alone.

Thomas followed the Vulcan as he left the bridge. He wasn't sure why, other than boredom and the fact that, as a man who had lived on Vulcan for years and studied its culture in detail, he found this individual's behavior and attitudes intriuging.

Exiting a turbolift, he followed the Vulcan and his guide down a passage until they stopped by a room, presumably the Vulcan's new quarters. The Vulcan bid the guard farewell, and the guard turned away. Then suddenly the Vulcan turned 'round, pinched the guard's neck, snatched the young man's phaser, and headed off down the corridor. Ducking back out of sight, Thomas pressed his combadge.

"Dr. Alexander to the bridge. I'm just outside the Vulcan's guest quarters. I just saw him use a neck pinch on his guard and take his phaser."

Oblivious to having been spotted, Spaslik entered a turbolift, still smiling. He hid the phaser under his lab coat and said, "Engineering." He was overjoyed by how perfectly according to plan everything was going so far.

The door opened and the Vulcan entered a corridor seeming to go on forever in both directions. He looked left and right and saw few people. There was a stern faced ensign hurrying along, a bored chief petty officer trailing close behind. Two crewmen were examining some circuitry behind a removed panel on the bulkhead.

Spaslik had memorized the plans of Valiant and many other star ships, so he knew exactly where he was going. Exiting the turbolift, he turned right, passing the two men working and nearly bumping shoulders with the ensign. He traveled about twenty feet down the passageway, stopped, checked to see if anybody was in sight, and went in a room on the port side. Several monitors and keyboards lined the bulkheads in all directions in this cramped, dimly lighted space. Spaslik closed the door and did some quick rewiring that would prevent it from being opened again. Then, alone with the incalculable power of a computer at his disposal, he selected a console at random and went to work. He immediately began hacking into the warp drive system. He had been able to do it less than five minutes in practice runs, but this time he was aiming for a mere minute and a half. His fingers furiously tapped key after key and data poured into the monitor at speeds that would make the average human almost faint; yet he scanned through the vast amounts of information like a child excitedly reading through the latest in a series of popular fantasy novels.

The deviant Vulcan still had no clue that he had been caught...

Upon the arrival of Thomas' message, there wasn't even a need for discussion on the bridge, McKee was already gone, leaving her console to one of the more capable Ensigns who remained on the bridge for just such an occasion.
"McKee to McCoy, assemble a Security Team on Level 3, Our Vulcan Survivor has gone walkabout"
She strode confidently through the ship, happy that McCoy could handle things until she had gotten there. Like the rest of the crew, McKee felt a certain annoyance at how the mission had gone. She felt it a failure. None of their objectives have been met so, in the most logical of terms, it had been a failure.
She finally reached McCoy, standing with the other four members of the Security team, whose hands were held near their own phasers anxiously,
"Let's go," She said with a nod.

OOC: Anybody else find it amusing I now get to play the hunter and hunted? ;)

Senior Chief McCoy was not surprised to learn the sole survivor, the bizarre emotion-embracing Vulcan, had gone missing. It was not that he had ever suspected Spaslik to be anything more than a very lucky individual; it just seemed now that the long missing piece to a puzzle had been found at last. It all makes sense, he thought. Why didn't I think of it sooner? You can't really trust a man who abandons his own kind.

When McKee arrived McCoy nodded at his men. No words needed be spoken. That simple gesture said it all: be prepared, be tough, do the best you can and then some. The security team followed their division officer and their chief.

As Spaslik rounded a corner, off the beaten path, his comms buzzed. On the other end, a voice that was synthesized spoke, "Spaslik, you need to tie off the loose ends. They recovered files from Galileo, we need you to either send them to us or destroy them, go"

With that, the comms went dead.

Meanwhile, Winters rest his head back onto a pillow. The Offficer of the Deck was at the bridge. It was a toubling day to be a star ship Captain. But, this was the perilous territory he navigated for years. A few bumps here and there, failures and success both filled his service record.

"Captain, sorry to disturb you but there is a situation with Spaslik" the comm panel beeped.

Winters jumped up, suprised, "What's the situation?"

"He was spotted knocking out one of the crew while being accompanied to his berthing. Commander McKee has already dispatched a security team to find him"

"Good, I'll be at the bridge in a few minutes" Winters replied as he threw his uniform coat back on.

McKee led the team down a variety of corridors and lifts until she was near to the location where Thomas had sent his message from the Bridge. It was not long before she found the Civilian standing in the corridor. She gave him a nod and indicated behind to her Security team,
"I wonder where has our Guest gone?" She asked curtly, looking in both directions in hope of a clue.

T'Pell struggled to suppress her emotions when she heard the news about Spaslik. It was difficult to believe. It was one thing for him to abandon the ways of their forefathers, but she had never suspected her ex-husband would do something like this. She did not turn her heard towards the captain, or anybody else. She stared at her console, as if nothing had happened at all.

- - -

Spaslik was having trouble breaking into the ship's warp drive system. Clearly some new security measure had been installed as part of the upgrades. How did his sources fail to provide him this vital piece of data?

Oh well, he thought. There were other things to do. He had to get those files. But how? Where were they?

"Commander T'Pell" Winters said as he stood behind her, "I don't suppose you had any notions that would have led you to believe Spaslik capable of this, would you?"

It was strange in his eyes that the ex-husband of his Science Officer is the lone survivor of the station and now on the loose with a weapon. He didn't want to believe that T'Pell might know something but this current situation didn't help her standing in the Captain's eyes. He ordered the ship be put on alert and a description of Spaslik was announced over the comm system. The entire security detachment as well as auxillary security personnel were recalled to their stations, protecting vital assets aboard the ship. The secuirty team fanned out in search of Spaslik who as thus far, evaded even the cameras.

Harlan emerged on the bridge, just nw getting a full understanding of what's going on. There was not much he could do but wait and pray that security finds him in time.

McKee strode through more corridors with her Security team, trying to locate their rogue Vulcan. There was no sign of him in Main Engineering, though a quick scan of the computers showed that he had been there. She looked at her team, saw her nerves then looked forward again to hide her own. The Vulcan was armed. If he had the courage to do it, then someone could die on this ship today.
"McKee to the Bridge," The Irishwoman decided to try and use the bridge to find him, following a rather fruitless search on the ground, "Can you locate the Vulcan?" She asked.

T'Pell did not turn around, though she knew it improper to not face your commanding officer. "I never could have guessed he would act in such a manner," she said. Distress was in her voice--faint, suppressed, but noticeable. She felt her mental discipline slipping away.

- - -

Spaslik was alerted by the blaring alarm and flashing red light near the door. Shit, they're on to me. He had to find those documents, but how now that they were looking for him? He was overwhelmed by helplessness and began regretting his rejection of logic.

He spoke into his comm unit: "I don't know the documents are. And they're on to me now."

"If you don't find those files, we'll have to destroy the ship with you on it. We cannot afford for those files to be recovered and decrypted by them" The voice replied, calm and in control, "They will be in Communications on the seventh level of the ship. Do not fail us, Spaslik"

On the bridge, Winters noticed the crackle in T'Pell's normally emotionless tone. This further raised his doubts which began to grow and expand, "I hope for your sake that this is the truth"

He turned to the comms, "We'll try to locate him from here. Keep up the search on your end, he can't hide forever"

Bio screens weren't turning up anything. Vulcans and Humans gave off the same signatures. Cameras and sensors weren't picking up anything either.

"Right Sir," McKee sighed. It was looking like this would have to be done the old fashioned way. She turned to her team, smiling the smile of someone who was confident of completing her task. She hoped so, anyway.
"We need to spread out," She instructed simply, trying to keep her own nerves in check. This Vulcan was a security breach and it was her job to stop such things from becoming dangerous. She had to act on that, she had to do a good job. If not, then someone, maybe all of them, would pay the price for it,
"Anyone who sees him, contact me and try to keep him localised in the area. If he acts hostile...you know what to do" She nodded to indicate her commands were over. She watched as her team spread out with a heavy heart. She hated giving permission to kill if need be, but if this Vulcan was dangerous, and he could be, it was already established that he was a serial murderer, then she may have no choice.

"Do everything in your power to only incapacitate him" Winters added, "This is already a fiasco and an Intergalactic incident is the absolute last thing we need. But if it comes down to it-"

Harlan stood by, fully aware of all the implications. This was a first for him too. Captain Winters was annoyed and edgy. A rogue Vulcan on his ship who happens to be T'Pell's ex-husband. He saw no reason for her to have any involvement but he in the same instance understood where the Captain was coming from.

Finally facing the Captain, T'Pell said, with one eyebrow arched slightly higher than the other, "Sir, unlike Spaslik I have not abandoned logic to embrace the animal desires of our ancestors. There is no logic in me hiding anything about him from you. He was my husband once, yes, but that means nothing now."

- - -

Meanwhile, Spaslik was rapidly devising a plan to reach the stolen files.

Winters resigned himself to terminate his questioning. T'Pell was far too layered for him to understand or even get a notion of what goes on in her mind. Her face is a constant emotionless expression. If she played poker, her face would have no equal. The search for her ex-husband continued, though fruitless at the moment, he will eventually be found.

Harlan stood by, trying to contemplate Spaslik's moves. He was a being of emotions and someone like that, you can track and get inside their mind. Why was he doing this? Was he an agent all along? Did he go mad aboard the station? What were his motives? More importantly, what was he after?

He walked around the bridge, deep in thought. It made no sense for him to try and destroy the ship. There had to be something else...

"Those files!" Harlan blurted, he was struck by lightning, "He could be after the files we recovered"

Winter spun around, "McKee, ensure you have a secuirty detail sent down to the Communications Department" he ordered

"Very good Sir," McKee had had the same thought at the same time and now she was in the correct position as well to intercept him. She and two other Members of the Security team hid in the corridor just outside the Communications Department, waiting by the only entrance for their Rogue Vulcan to appear.

Spaslik broke into the security department's network and reviewed current deployments swiftly, staying in the system just long enough to avoid being detected. Damn, they've got the Communications Department covered! Figures, though.

What to do now? Luckily for the Vulcan, despite his rejection of a life of pure logic, the ways of his forefathers had not totally left his mind. He still possessed an ability to seek out the most sensible solution to a problem unmatched by members of any other known race in the galaxy. It was time now for him to look past his emotions and journey once more down the path of logic, for only that road would lead him to success in this situation.

He thought quickly, having little time to waste. Various options popped up in his head, but they were all rejected for one reason or the other. Finally an ingenious plan hit him. He chuckled and grinned. Yes, that's perfect.

Spaslik hacked into the environmental control system. He made the radiation level monitors indicate deadly levels of that most frightening emission of energy were present on the decks containing the Communications Department, as well as three above it and two below, including the Engineering Deck so as to allow his escape. He decided to make the other levels appear contaminated so as to avoid arousing suspicion.

This buys me some time, he thought. But only a little. They'll quickly detach a team with Geiger counters to confirm the internal monitors' readings.

Alarm blaring, lights flashing, and a recorded female voice saying "WARNING, RADIATION, WARNING, RADIATION" in an eerily monotone voice, so lifeless and inappropriate that it might as well have been announcing lunch was ready, Spaslik could hear crewmen rushing to safety. No doubt a few were racing to where the hazmat suites were kept.

I better get going fast. Checking the cameras for the passageway through which he would need to traverse, the Vulcan waited for the right moment. It came, and he seized the opportunity. He ran out into the deserted corridor, an unnerving silence in the air. Not wanting to risk being spotted by using the turbolift, he took the seldom used stairs and hurried up two levels to the Communications Department.

The radiation alarm resonated throughout the ship. Yellow lights spun at designated areas. Crewmembers, well rehearsed in many emergencies, took the appropriate actions. Winters watched the levels that were contaminated.

"He's leaked radiation" Winters hissed, watching certain compartments on the screen turn red, "Evacuate those areas and seal them off"

"Captain, he's going to be ehading for Communications, that's a diversion!" Harlan interjected, raising his voice.

Winters faced him, eyes narrowing, "No, he's trying to destroy the ship. Spaslik figured he can't get those files so he's going to try and kill us all"

"But Captain-" Harlan attempted but was cut short

"But nothing" Winters voice was commanding and beyond reproach, "We are going to evacuate and contain those areas. I'm not going to jeopordize my crew"

Harlan retracted himself, feeling the sting of defeat, regretting trying to stand up to the Captain. All he could do was stand by and allow this all to happen. No, there's something else. Harlan quickly exited the bridge, unoticed.

McKee used some colourful language as the alarms went off all around her, warning of a radiation increase. The Vulcan was clever, she had to give him his dues, he was clever. She turned to her Security team, who were looking at her for guidance. She gave them another smile and a nod,
"Help with the evacuation of the level," She ordered, "Make sure no one's left behind"
The team saluted and went to move, but stopped suddenly,
"What about you Ma'am?" A younger one asked nervously. McKee gave him a smile of confidence that she did not feel in her heart,
"Go on Son," She said calmly, "I'll be alright."

She watched as the team reluctantly moved off to help with the Evacuation before giving a heavy sigh. She was on her own now, she knew that the radiation, if there was any, could kill her, but then she could not let this Vulcan get the Communications Department. Not yet, not while she had a breath in her body.
Soon, throught the deserted corridors, she saw a shape approaching. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves before raising from behind her bulkhead and aiming her phaser at the being's chest,
"Stop right there!" She called to the Vulcan, "Drop the weapon!"

Harlan brushed past crewmembers as they scattered through the corridors. Radiation Control Teams were donning their protective gear in preperation for entering the 'contaminated' areas. It was all standard procedures, drilled into their heads time and time again. As the evacuation progressed, Harlan took it upon himself to try and do something about Winters misjudgement. He understood where the Captain came from but he had a gut feeling that he was right about the diversion.

One of the blast doors was readying to close and by it stood a lone guard. As Harlan approached, the guard held up a hand, 'Sorry sir, you cannot enter this area"

Mustering the courage he replied, "Try and stop me"

That's exactly what the guard did. He grabbed Harlan by the shoulders and tried to push him back. Harlan dug deep and shoved back, he barreled his whole shoulder into the guards' chest and knocked him against the bulkhead. His head snapped back and hit it hard. Harlan eased the guard down to the ground.

"I am sooo sorry about this" he hurridely said as he grabbed the phaser out of his holster and entered the area as the blast door closed behind him.

Harlan hurried down the stairs, knowing that power to the turbolift was cut off. he rounded a corner and saw McKee preparing to pounce. She noticed him but Harlan didn't say a word, merely nodding, acknowledging that he had her back as she sprung from behind the bulkhead, phaser at the ready.

He crept up and remained out of sight, her shaky and nervous backup.

"Well, well, well," Spaslik said with a mocking smirk, no doubt annoying McKee, "good job, Commander! You didn't fall for my deception, huh? Yes, I'll admit it was all a trick. No point in lying to you now. Of course, for all you know I am lying by claiming it was just a diversion. Maybe I really did leak radiation. Sure, that'd be suicidal, right? Not very logical? But hey, I'm not a man of pure logic anymore. Not for years. Oh well, you'll find out the truth soon enough." He laughed.

"I will know soon enough," McKee growled, indeed annoyed by his smile. It made her uncomfortable yet it also filled her belly with fire, a courage that one often got in the heart of battle or in the icy-cold of a face-off such as this.
"Even if I do die, that last thing I'll get to see if a Murderder fall with me," She snapped, somewhat relieved that Harlan was here. If she was killed, then at least he may be able to stop the Vulcan from completing his task.
Then the Killer statement from McKee,
"I don't fear death," She stated, "And I think you're bluffing."

OOC: Spaslik hasn't murdered anybody yet, as far as anybody on Valiant knows. He rendered that security crewman unconscious.

"That's good, Commander. Real nice -- deserving of a medal and all that. I commend you on the nonchalance with which you face your potential demise." The Vulcan stared at her phaser. He held his in the air. "Too bad for you, I'm prepared to die, as well. And it's looking more and more like I will." He laughed again, colder this time, with a touch of madness. "Listen, I'm going to put my phaser down. Slowly, of course. Don't shoot." He bent down slowly and placed his phaser on the deck. He then rose again and held his hands back in the air. "This is sort of fun, really," he said.

OOC: McKee's reached the conclusion that Spaslik had something to do with the slaughter on the station. She may be right, she may be wrong but that's what she thinks.

"Fun?" McKee was actually caught of balance for a moment, he thought this was fun?! This was a serious situation. Then again, maybe she had left her sense of humour back at the Academy, like so many Officers. Nevertheless, she was delighted when she saw him put his blaster down, there would have to be no shooting today! Externally however, she kept the same cold exterior, mirroring a Vulcan in many ways,
"Hands above your head," She commanded, staying far back enough not to be at risk from one of the Vulcan sleeper holds.

Spaslik was no fool. He knew it was all over for him. There was no way he would be able to get past McKee and retrieve those files. So, what now? he wondered. He did not fear interrogation--even torture. While he chose to embrace emotions, he could easily suppress them as he had done for the majority of his life; the unmatched mental strength of a Vulcan had not vanished from within him. But he knew that a penal colony was in his future. And what sort of life was that? None at all. That left one course of action. And a very logical one, too.

The Vulcan man ran furiously towards McKee, screaming as loud as possible, arms dangling wildly in the air like flags waving in a heavy wind. Now hopefully that phaser isn't merely set to stun... Something tells me it's not, though.

Harlan heard the exchange then the sound of Spaslik screaming as loud as he could muster. This was time for him to act. He spun out from around the corner, raising his phaser. He pulled the trigger and a blast went out and impacted Spaslik in the chest. Luckily, it was set to stun.

Fuck, Spaslik thought as he fell to the ground, gradually slipping into unconsciousness. He realized that death was not on the way. He would have been killed instantaneously, which meant he would not have time to think as his mind slowly shut out the outside world. At least they won't be able to get any info-- He passed out.

McKee stumbled back, caught off guard by the attack. She was about to fire her phaser at the Vulcan when Harlan intervened and stopped the Irishwoman in her tracks.
McKee stared at the Vulcan's lifeless form for a minute, eyes wide in shock. She had killed before of course, but never a Vulcan and never in a situation like this, she was glad she had not been forced to do it, but it had shaken her.
"Commander?" She called out to Harlan in a small and frightened voice, like that of a child.

Harlan froze in his tracks. Arm still extended out, grasping the phaser. In front of him, Spaslik crumpled to the ground, stunned. He never fired a weapon in anger before. Luckily, he never had to kill as well, and he intended to keep it that way. His eyes were wide with amazement, having mustered the courage to shoot.

"It was set to stun, McKee" Harlan finally said, lowering the weapon, "He'll wake up in a few hours. We need to know what his agenda is...are you alright?" he asked, concerned overtones carried his voice.

"I'll be fine," McKee shook her head to clear it, red hair billowing in all directions as she did so, "I was just caught off guard by it. I'll be okay," She smiled to show that she was speaking the truth, then looked back at the Vulcan on the ground, before tapping her Communicator,
"Captain? McKee here. Myself and Commander Harlan have incapacitated the Target just outside the Communications Department. The Radiation alert was a hoax, I repeat, the Radiation alert was a trick. We need someone down here to accompany our Vulcan to the Brig."

When T'Pell heard McKee's report, words burst out of her like an iron ball out of a cannon. She shocked herself: she had not wanted to speak them, but they came out anyway, as if some unseen entity had taken control of her. "Captain, I believe I may be of some assistance," she said. "I have an idea."

- - -

Meanwhile, Senior Chief McCoy was in the process of putting on a hazmat suite when he was alerted that the radiation leak was a hoax. He grabbed his communicator and said, "McCoy to McKee, I'll come get that treacherous Vulcan myself."

Suprised and embarrassed, Winters calmly replied, "Good work, we'll send someone down. What is your idea, T'Pell?" He then ordered a stand down for the contamination alarm and the incecent buzzing ceased, much to the joyful cheers of the crew who were at their stations.

As the ship's crew took a step back and sigh in relief, something else happened. The ship began to rock violently. On the bridge, the radar officer spun around.

"What happened?!" Winters demanded

"Sir, I think we've been attacked again" Gage said, trying to get a fix on the attacker.

"Shields are at 90%, sir" reported another officer.

"Crews to their battle stations, this is not a drill. I repeat: this is not a drill" Winters said into the comms.

The ship spurred into action once again. Damage Control Crews readied themselves. Luckily the shields were holding strong. Valiant came about to the port, trying to maneuver itself.

"Where is it coming from?" Winters grasped the hand rails, furious.

"We can't determine that" Gage replied, "Wait, there's another blip, it's coming in hot!"

As she finished her sentence, the ship rocked again, Winters almost fell over the railing. The ship was holdin, but couldn't take too many more hits like that.

"We have to get out of here, grab his legs" Harlan told McKee as he bent down to lift up thier captive.

On the bridge, Winters ordered that the ship come about and angle downwards at three degrees and fire at the last known location of the shot. A photon torpedo shot out but spirlaed through space, hitting nothing...

"Negative, McCoy," McKee replied as the first shots hit the ship and it began to rock again. Outside, she was calm, inside she was seething. Not again!,
"McCoy, I'll handle it myself. Report to your station for the moment. That is all." She took him by the foot and dragged him towards the Brig. For a Vulcan, he was heavy and it was starting to annoy her.
"We're needed on the Bridge," She puffed to Harlan as she dragged him down another corridor.

"It seems they need us everywhere!" Harlan replied as they shuffled their feet. He strained with the Vulcan, he too felt the shifting weight that made it difficult to carry him. They were the only ones in on the level. The rest of the crew had evacuated the area. They were in a full combat enviroment as the ship rocked from the hits. He wondered how long the shields could shoulder against this onslaught.

They made a difficult journey up the stairs, through several more cooridors, taking a breather, then making it to the blast door. The heavy door slid open and what greeted them was a medic putting an ice pack to the back of the guard's head. He looked up painfully at Harlan who offered an awkward smile.

"Take this one too" harlan ordered the medic, he grabbed a security man, "You stay with him, he's dangerous but stunned for now!"

Now they were free to go to the bridge. There, it was hectic as any other part of the ship. Everything was quiet now. All scanners and readers came back negative.

"They must have some sort of advanced cloaking device, sir" Gage theorized.

bump

OOC: Rammsteingberg, I was waiting to hear what T'Pell had to say to the Captain

OOC: Really? I was waiting for what the captain had to say to T'Pell. She made a request earlier.

OOC: T'Pell said "I have an idea"

OOC: T'Pell said "I have an idea"

OOC: And I was sort of waiting for acknowledgment to continue.

OOC: Oh, I thought he acknowledged her. Anyways, assume he did.

"Captain, it would be futile trying to interrogate Spaslik. I suggest you allow me to mind meld with him." She cringed at the thought, but knew it was the only logical course of action.

"That is probably best, Commander" Winters said, he didn't look at her, eyes were fixed on the main screen. Dead space stared back at him. Their adversary was out there, this he was sure of. But where? It had to be some sort of cloaking device. But, the known forms of cloaking had their shortcomings. Certain ships had to decloak to fire while the other types always gave of a signature. This ship did neither, a perfected cloaking system?

"There's nothing" Gage said, disappointed, frustrated even.

"Dammit" Winters slammed his fist against the console. He contemplated possible tactics. Retreat wasn't an option in his mind. They were engaged in a fight and he intended to see it through.

Thomas was on his way to his quarters when the radiation alert sounded. He was no where near the danger, but he moved towards some escape pods just in case. He was no coward, but this mission was becoming a disaster.

He was relieved when the alarms ceased, but not for long. Seconds later, the vessel shuddered and red alert sirens started blazing. Whatever had happened at that station, it was big, and logic suggested that the Vulcan knew something. He had to find out what.

"Dr Alexander to the Bridge. I know you're busy right now, but have you captured the Vulcan? Logically his actions suggest that he knows something, perhaps relating to the events on the station and the reason for this attack. If I had a chance to question him I might be able to find out what."

(OOC: Bump)

The bridge shuddered again as it was hit by the hidden weapons fire. McKee looked down at the readings on her console, then back at the Captain,
"Shields down to 70%" She reported, before looking back at her targeting system, "Firing phasers," She watched the report, then shook her head in frustration, "We missed."
The bridge shook again, this time for violently,
"Shields down to 60%" She reported calmly, this was where she belonged. She did not panic.
"Firing torpedoes, full spread," Then came the traditional pinging noise to warn that missiles had been launched, "Target missed again" She sighed this time, it was like trying to box with your eyes shut and ears deafened. How could you hit someone you couldn't see?

OOC: I really think we should use some players in this RP. :/

OOC: How do you mean?

In sick bay, tied to a table with a phaser-armed guard on both sides of him, Spaslik slowly regained consciousness.

A chorus of alarms and sirens resounded throughout the ship. The shields were beginning to falter. Several crewmembers were already injured, a few of them seriously. The ship couldn't last much longer. Then, once the shields are down, one good hit could cripple the ship completely. The Captain struggled with a possible solution to their current dilema. Whatever force was out there, circled around, the firing stopped. Perhaps it had left or was taunting the Valiant. Whoever was out there was in control. They sat bac and watched Valiant fire aimlessly into the abyss, missing every shot.

"Captain!" cried one of the officers.

"We're going to get out of this, don't worry" Winters fumbled with his words. Harlan gripped the handrails tight, watching Winters seemingly lose control of his command. This was something he wasn't used to encountering. An unseen foe circled around them, like a vulture.

Suddenly, another missile emerged from nowhere. It came in too quick for countermeasures to be deployed, fired from close range. Everything moved in slow-motion. Harlan looked up and saw a bright flash of light cause the screen to go blank. The missile hit short of the command deck, impacting the shields, displasing the blast but the ship rocked violently. Sparks flew from the consoles. The overhead splintered and huge cables let loose, collapsing onto Captain Winters. He was knocked out cold, impacting the ground. An officer moved to the Captain, calling for a medic.

Harlan stood there, almost in shock. The Captain was out of commission. Almost instantly, those assembled on the bridge looked to him, their eyes desperate for an order, anything.

"Commander Harlan, I don't think we can take another hit"

Harlan stood there, eyes sweeping across the bridge, observing the damage sustained, "Subashi...Warp Speed, now!!!" He finally blurted.

Subashi complied and Valiant shot out of the sector, leaving the planet, the destroyed station, and their invisible adversay behind...

McKee watched, open mouthed at the sight of the Captain being incapacitated in such a way and so quickly. it had shaken her somewhat, but not as much as her thoughts, for she was secretly glad that Harlan had taken over. It had seemed like Winters was going to sacrifice the entire ship rather than retreat, a valiant action worthy of the ship's name, but not one she was fond of. She preferred the better part of valour,
"Damage report Commander," She announced from her console as the vessel went into warp speed and fled the battlefield, there was nothing else to do, the Irishwoman looked over her instruments as reports came in from all over the ship,
"Shields are down to 22%. Phasers are offline and two torpedo tubes are similiarly out of action. Four decks have suffered minor damage, two decks have suffered more seriously. No fatalites but many wounded." It was brief at best, someone else would have to make a fuller report at a more convenient time, but such a report was enough to inform the Commander what state the ship was in.

(OOC: looks like this is dead :()

(OOC: looks like this is dead :()

OOC: TG Kulikovia and see what he says