Stardate: 2365.02.07
USS Peregrine, Captain's Ready Room - 0645
Commander Silas Drake sat at his desk, PADD resting askance in front of him. Rather than focus on the dull, "nothing to report" reports on the device, the commanding officer of the Peregrine allowed his gaze - and thoughts - to wander along the various models that were mounted around the room. Each model was of a different style of vessel; while some were starships, others were antiques from Earth's past; nuclear powered, steam powered, even an ancient sail-powered vessel.

While he was indeed a student of military history, particularly that of ships, his interest in these vessels was more than purely academic. Each model was of a ship that one of Drake's ancestors had served aboard, and in turn, he felt a personal connection to each representation of the past. He took a quiet joy from the inspection, feeling a sense of belonging that was difficult to articulate. Indeed, he seldom spoke of it to anyone; it was a personal matter, something not to be shared lightly. Of course, she had understood...

His lip tightened for a moment, and the train of thought was forcibly derailed. Not today, Silas told himself. He picked up the PADD, took a sip of coffee, and resumed the inspection of the reports.

********************************

Roughly a half hour had passed when the comm chimed.

=/\= Bridge to Captain. Starfleet Command is on a secure channel for you. =/\=

Silas visibly perked up. Finally, something to do. The past six weeks had been dedicated to patrolling the shipping lanes in the Religus sector, and the detail had been... less than stimulating.

"Please patch it through to me here," he replied.

Momentarily, his personal viewscreen flared to life, revealing a human female in an admiral's jacket. Her brown hair was just beginning to show signs of gray, though Silas did not recognize her face.

"Good morning, Commander Drake. Admiral Harding here. I understand that your patrols have been uneventful?"

Drake nodded. "Indeed they have, Admiral. There is really nothing to report."

Harding nodded. "That is actually a good thing, Commander. Ideally, we were hoping that your presence would serve as a deterrent to piracy. I would chalk that up as a success."

Silas was less sure of that; in his mind, success would have been bringing pirates to justice, but he supposed that deterrence was better than nothing. "Thank you, Admiral." He answered. "I hope that you are right."

The admiral barely registered his response before she continued. "I have new orders for you, Commander. Proceed to Starbase 118, where you will rendezvous with the USS Coronado. The Coronado is on a diplomatic mission to broker a peace between the Kuldar and Rytain peoples. You will escort her in this mission. We do not expect any outright hostilities, but the Kuldar and Rytain have been in conflict for generations, so it is better to be prepared."

Harding paused, then continued in her orders. "You will accompany the Coronado to the Gamera system, where the peace summit will take place. Neither the Kuldar not the Rytain are Federation members, though the Rytain are seen as sympathetic towards us. The Kuldar, less so."

Her expression grew, if anything, more serious. "The success of this mission is imperative. Peace would stabilize this region, open new trade routes... and we know for a fact that there is Dilithium in this sector. If we could trade for it, or better yet, establish our own mining operations, it would provide a large boon to the Federation."

Drake nodded. "I understand the importance, Admiral."

Harding fixed the Commander with a steely gaze. "I hope that you do, Commander. There are members of Starfleet Command..." she trailed off for a moment before resuming. "Be sure that you stick to the script, Commander Drake. You are an escort here, nothing more. Ideally, you will have little to no interaction with the foreign dignitaries, nor will you be involved in the negotiations in any way. Your sole job is to ensure the security of the negotiations and of the Coronado. Is that clear?"

Silas felt his ears burn. The admiral could not have made her displeasure over his assignment more transparent. "Crystal clear, Admiral," he replied from a dry mouth.

She nodded. "Very well, then. You have your orders. Admiral Harding out."

With that, the viewscreen went blank, leaving Silas with his thoughts.

Stardate: 2365.02.07
USS Peregrine, Bridge - 0715
Aside from the sporadic chirping of the computer and an infrequent whoosh of the turbo-lift doors, the bridge was quiet. Quiet enough, in fact, that Lt. Zai was sure that he could actually hear everyone else on the bridge breathing over the silence. The viewscreen before him, too, could be described in the same fashion; nothing of note, there, either; and even the sensors deigned to ping anything out of the ordinary. He sighed softly, blinking at the star-field, and almost considered kicking his feet up on the CONN and taking a nap.

Six weeks, he thought, forgoing the nap idea and, instead, opting to simply lean back in his chair a bit and rub a cool hand absently along the smattering of spots on his neck as an expression of his boredom, Six frilling weeks and nothing but the same thing, day in and day out. We may lose our mind and smother someone if they keep breathing that loudly.
The thought tugged at one corner of his mouth, trying to stretch it into a smile. It very well might have succeeded, too, if the thought hadn't been more than half serious. Smothering someone for breathing too loudly, right now, would, at least, break the monotony. The Trill helmsman rubbed at the back of his neck, now, and sighed, again; heavier this time. I can't remember a time I was this bored, he muttered inwardly, shifting out of his pseudo-relaxed position and letting his hands fall back to the CONN.

Yes, we can, his mind protested in response, There was that time in the Bajor sector when,
I know, I know, Tochi argued back, but that was Odia. Not me.
Same thing. You still remember it.
Behind him, someone cleared their throat, the Ops console beeped for attention, and one of the turbolift doors squelched open, all at the same time.

Finally, some excitement, he teased himself, this time actually letting the thought tug that smirk on to his face even as he gave a faint shake of his head in protest of how bad a joke it was.

"Arguing with yourself, again, sir," queried a soft voice from over his right shoulder.

His smile stretched a bit more and he turned in his seat to regard the Andorian woman standing behind him; "That obvious, is it, Mister P'Tammah?"

She responded with a smile of her own and a subtle twitching of her antennae. "I felt it even before I stepped off the lift," she said, her blue-violet eyes skipping away from Lt Zai, pausing at the door to the Captain's ready room and the empty command chair in turn, before regarding him again. "Shouldn't you be in the Big Chair?"

Tochi's own eyes flicked to the Captain's seat, then, and he shrugged. As Captain Drake's XO, he technically should have been in that vacant seat, just now, but, "I'm afraid I'd get too comfortable and fall asleep," he grinned, "and then we'd get nicked for dereliction of duty."

Ensign P'Tammah snickered at that. "Understood," she said, resting a hand on the back of his seat as if to claim it for herself and, then, inclined her head towards the still vacant command seat, "but why don't you take it, anyway? I'm so bored that I could really use a shift at the CONN and you could probably stand to stretch your legs, sir."

Tochi nodded and relinquished the seat. "Only because we like you," he smirked, moving to stand in front of, not sit it, the Captain's chair, and his AFCO settled herself behind the CONN panels.

"Thank you, sir," P'Tammah grinned.

"Quite," Tochi answered, clasping his hands behind his back and resuming his perusal of the unchanging display on the viewscreen.

"Bridge to Captain," he heard the Ops officer say, then, "Starfleet Command is on a secure channel for you."

"I hope that's a new assignment," Tochi said once the communique was transferred to the ready room, "Otherwise, someone might get smothered today."

Ensign P'Tammah giggled, as did a few others. The young officer tending comms looked decidedly nervous.

Stardate 2365.02.07
USS Peregrine, Botanical Laboratory - 6:50
Lieutenant Horatio paced the botanical labs inspecting his growing plants for the second time today. "How are we doing today, boys?" he spoke aloud to nobody in particular. "I'm glad to see everyone in fine health."

"Computer, assess viability of cross breeding specimen 12 with specimen 04 for long term suitability in low oxygen atmosphere with attention to giving 04 the coriaceousness of specimen 12."

=/\=Assessment will complete in two hours.=/\=

Horatio paced around making one final inspection before making his way back to his office in the science lab.

As he made himself comfortable in his chair, he looked at his computer and groaned slightly to himself. He had promised himself to look over the applications to the labs aboard the vessel today, having put them off for some time. He needed to hire one person to help him, Dalia, and Petra with experiments and running the labs.

Dalia Maize was his assistant chief science officer. Fresh out of Starfleet Academy, the ensign was eager to learn and had an exploratory ambition that convinced Horatio to bring her aboard the ship.

She specialized in biochemical engineering, which would be useful to both the crew and the ship if any kind of alien biology were discovered and needed to be analyzed.

Petra was an enlisted science specialist. He had no proper, formal education, but was brilliant with his hands and quick on his feet. He only needed to be taught a process once and he took to it like a duck to water.

A duck to water...Funny that I'm thinking about ducks and water while sitting in a star ship somewhere in the galaxy... Horatio chuckled to himself.

Running through the authorization protocols, he began perusing the various applicant's files.

27 applicants! This will take ages... Keeping true to his word though, he spent the next long while looking over the various files.

He finally settled on two potential candidates to run by the Captain on the following day.

(OOC: Edited to expand the idea and take out the other OOC stuff)

Stardate 2365.02.07
USS Peregrine, Holosuite 1 - 0645
Lieutenant Commander Eric Thorson, Chief Engineer of the USS Peregrine, Starfleet officer, and top of his field in keeping 24th century state-of-the-art starships running smoothly, hefted his favorite Viking war axe and prepared to charge into an ugly knot of Saxon defenders. His leather armor, fortified with small plates of iron and draped with warm furs to keep out the English cold, hung comfortably on his large frame as he sprinted across the beach toward the Saxons and the gold-laden keep they defended. The splashes of blood across the armor and furs bore testament to the battle he and his kinsmen had already waged to get off their longboat and this far up the beach. The broken trail of fallen Saxons marked the direction from which they had exited their longboats. With a berserker roar, he brought his axe high into the air, then down in a mighty swing toward the first of this group of Saxons to come into his reach. The keen blade whistled through the air, thirsty for enemy blood, and then---

=/\= Engineering to Thorson. =/\=

Eric checked his swing with great effort, and as his axe's blade stopped mere millimeters from the Saxon's skull, he called out "Computer, freeze program!"

The entire tableau instantly froze in place. He glanced around and saw a few hapless Saxons suspended in midair, apparently interrupted in their Viking-induced launches.

"Thorson here, go ahead."

=/\= Sir, this is Ensign Jenneric. We have finished those Level Three diagnostics on the plasma flow regulators, and we're getting some anomalous readings. Regulator B-23 on Deck 2 looks to have been bypassed; there's juice in the circuit, but it doesn't seem to be flowing through a regulator there, just a straight flow past it. =/\=

Eric's brow furrowed in puzzlement for a mere moment; then he managed to grin, sigh and groan at the same time.

"Thorson to Clarence." As expected, no response. "Computer, locate Master Chief Davis."

=/\= Master Chief Petty Officer Clarence Davis is located in Cargo Bay One. =/\=

Yep, just where I thought he'd be, thought Eric. He reached under his furs, tapped his combadge, and in a tone that brooked no argument, said "Clarence, Captain Drake is going to be looking at these test results. Put the regulator back immediately. Otherwise I'm dismantling that still. With an axe. And I will then proceed to consume every drop of what you've already brewed, while you watch. And stop nicking hardware to run the thing; we have replicators, for Odin's sake."

After a rather pregnant silence, a cantankerous and annoyed-sounding =/\= Acknowledged =/\= was heard.

Knowing Clarence was a good as his word (his one word, as was the case most of the time), Eric tapped his combadge again. "Thorson to Jenneric. Give it ten minutes and the problem should be solved. I'm headed for a sonic shower, and will be there for my shift in a bit."

As he made his way back to his quarters, Eric reflected on what a sad state of affairs it was when the highlight of his day was busting Clarence for nicking parts for his still. No help for it; Eric was bored. He had transferred out of the Chief Engineer slot at Starbase 427 after a four-year stint and onto the Peregrine because he had grown rather tired of stationary assignments. When the CE slot on the Peregrine opened up, he jumped at applying for it. He knew that being on a ship again was just what the doctor ordered; exploration, meeting some new species, maybe a skirmish here and there, fascinating engineering mysteries to solve.

What he got was patrol. And more patrol. And even more patrol.

Something exciting has to happen soon, he thought as he reached his quarters and prepared to begin his workday.

Not the smartest thought for one whose gods include Loki.

Stardate: 2365.02.07
USS Peregrine, jeffries tube A17 - 0647

Karri pulled herself along the jeffries tube, the antigrave belt kept her afloat making the movement process exceedingly easier then manually crawling through the rather confined space.

Reaching for the bulk head a small spark of static zapped her. Letting a small growl an shaking her hand in irritation karri pursed her lips making her canine teeth peak from benieth her lips. The one down side to using anti-grave when your covered in fur, the low frequency emp built up in your fur causing static. Sighing she grabbed the bulkhead grounding herself out before reaching for her scanner.

The scanner emitted a horizontal beam an flickered along the bulk head then beeped giving her a rendered schematic an statistical analysis. Same as all the rest in this sector, good. Karri quickly pulled up a sub menu an added this quadrant to the list of cleared sectors.

The next hatch exit was only a couple feet forward. Reaching the hatch she popped it open. Making sure her tail was clear she pressed a small panel button on the anti grave belt an it slowly powered down she eased down onto the floor of the tube. Poking her head through to make sure the area was clear she lowered herself down.

It wasn't a far drop to the main corridor flooring below, maybe four feet. Karri enjoyed the moment letting herself hang for a moment relaxing letting the feeling of her bodies suspended weight stretch out her body. Karri pulled the hatch door closed with a hollow metal on metal clang turning the seal latch, before dropping to the floor.

Landing in a crouch Karri looked around for a second before standing smoothing out her slightly frizzed hair an pulling her uniform straight she walked off as if nothing was amiss, an she hadn't just spent the good portion of her slated work shift squirreled in a jeffries tube.

Mentally tallying the remainder of the sectors she had left.Three or four more days she'd have all the scans done. Normally it wasn't done unless the ship had taken damage, but it passed the time rather then sitting watching her tail twitch in engineering with nothing to do which made her snappy an irritated. karri wondered if it was part of her fickle catish nature.

Reaching engineering she dropped her scanner off an quickly filed a duty report out for her work shift sending a copy to the chief engineering officer Thorson.

Karri sighed making one last scan of the work area to make sure it was picked up of any tools an left engineering.
heading to her quarters Karri stretched an sighed, might as well have a nap.

Stardate: 2365.02.07
USS Peregrine; Observation Lounge, Deck 5 - 0700
It had been two hours or so since Petty Officer Second Class Megan Owen had slipped into the observation lounge. Aside from stopping at the replicator for a bowl of oatmeal with cinnamon and raisins, and a cup of tea when she first entered, the young shuttle pilot had scarcely moved from the table nestled in the forward corner in all that time. She had chirped out a cheery "g'mornin'" to the two other people who had seen fit to take an early breakfast (or a very late supper) in the lounge when she had first arrived, as well, but, other than that and an occasional murmuring under her breath, she had been uncharacteristically quiet for the duration. Rather than the frisky, hyper-social Megan that her shipmates were accustomed to, those that were in attendance this morning were treated to the spectacle of seeing the young shuttle pilot sitting in the corner, still and silent, with her sparkling, pale-blue eyes scarcely ever peeling away from the PADD that she held in one hand.

It was unusual, perhaps even unsettling to some, but there was good reason for her to be locked into her rapt absorption of the information on the device. Her tour aboard the Peregrine had provided her with an opportunity that she never imagined she would have been afforded; to be one of the very few NCOs in Starfleet with a Bridge Certification, and not a simple certification that would simply allow her access to the bridge, either, but one that could honestly see her sitting at the helm! The coursework and requisite examinations that would see her achieving that, though, were daunting, to say the least. In the weeks that she had been studying, already, she had come to have even more respect for CONN officers like Lt Zai and Ensign P'Tammah than she ever had before,

T'ree sep'rate courses in Starship Op'rations, alone; plus, t'ree SoSD engineerin' courses, an' two electives from the College o' Space Flight Hist'ry catalogue, Megan thought, finally taking her eyes off the PADD to glance at the chrono and take a sip of her long-cold tea, An' that's just to qualify to take the exam! How they e'er managed ta cram all o' this into their heads before graduatin' Academy's bloody astoundin'!
Her nose wrinkled by way of response to the tea's temperature and, as she'd been staring at the PADD for so long, she rubbed at her eyes with the back of her hands in order to coax them to move again. She stretched, then, stifled a yawn, and tucked a stray lock of auburn curls that she'd unknowingly pulled free of her pony-tail back behind her ear. That done, she let her gaze sweep the near-empty lounge, again, and, smiling cheerily at the woman in OPS gold who happened to meet her eye, slipped from behind the table and made her way towards the replicator again. "G'mornin', Tasha," Megan chirped as she passed by Crewman Pierce's seat, "Invent'ry this mornin', is it?"

Natasha Pierce smiled, shook her head, and nodded toward one of the large windows at the front of the lounge; "Just taking a moment to enjoy the view, Meg."

Megan smiled, nodded, and slid her empty cub back into the replicator niche. "Tea, English Breakfast, hot," she said.

"You're here very early," Natasha noted as the replicator acknowledge Megan's request with a beep, "Trouble sleeping?"

"Studyin'," the waiflike shuttle pilot smiled brightly, "Didn't wanna keep my bunkmates from getting' their fair share o' winks, y'know?" She gave a little shrug, claimed her fresh cup of tea from the replicator, and started back towards her own seat.

"Oh, yes," Natasha grinned, "the XO recommended you for the Bridge Certification, didn't he?"

Megan's smile brightened all the more, then, and she nodded enthusiastically. "He did," she squeaked, "C'n you believe it?" She sipped at her tea and tried, with only marginal success, to affect an exasperated pout and continued; "The curriculum's a bugger, though! I dunno that my head's big enough ta hold all o' that!"

"You can always put it in your hair," Natasha chuckled softly as Megan veritably skipped the rest of the way to her table, "There's plenty of room there, I would suppose."

Megan's laughter was a tinkling of glass bells and she shook her head vigorously, causing the thick, springy mass of her ponytail to bounce crazily off her shoulders. "Aye! I could like fit the whole o' the Peregrine in this mop, then, couldn't I?" She slid back into her seat, indulged in another taste of her tea, and took up her PADD, again, sneaking a quick look at the time before brushing several more freshly loosed tendrils of hair from her face. "I'd had this mop all secured b'fore I left quarters," she smirked, "but all this studyin's got me pullin' it out, willy-nilly. I s'pose I should put the PADD away an' go try an' get it restrained again, b'fore I'm due on post."

"Finish your tea, first," Natasha suggested with an amused smile, "I'm sure you've earned it and you don't want this cup going cold, hm?"

"Sure, you're right," Megan returned, setting the PADD aside altogether, and cradling her cup with both hands, "May's well enjoy one, good, hot cuppa e're I need ta deal with Master Chief Stiff-Knickers. Kook's talkin' runnin' some in-flights on th' shuttlecraft, today, an' if we don't keep to schedule, V'Lur may well get a crack in that stone face o' his. I'll need my caffeine if I'm gonna hafta see that."

Natasha snickered and nodded at the other woman's assessment. "I suppose you will, Meg," she said, gathering her own things up, now, and making ready to take her leave. "How was the oatmeal? I hope you got to eat that before it went cold?"

"Marvy," Megan answered, "The raisins don't have the gritty texture they did last week. Nice and plump, they were. And just the right touch o' cinn'mon."

"Wonderful," Natasha said, moving for the door, now. "Best of luck with your studies, Meg. I'm sure you'll do well. Have a good day."

"And you, luv," Megan smiled, "Ta!"

Crewman Pierce waved a response and disappeared into the corridor, leaving Megan alone with her tea and her study materials.

Megan savored a nice long sip, then, and, afterward glanced at the PADD, considering whether or not she should read for a few more minutes. Tea cup still cradled in both hand, she leaned towards the device to do just that but, when all of the loose auburn coils fell forward into her view, again, she made an irritated little noise and decided better of the whole thing.

"Bollocks," she grumped, getting to her feet again, unceremoniously pouring the remainder of her tea into her mouth, and scooping up her things, "Not as if there's gonna be no time to study later. She held the PADD tucked under an arm with one hand and reached up with the other to tug the pony-tail holder from her mane with the other as she flitted out the door. "I bloody well hope I've got time to braid this mess," she said to no one in particular as her hair spilled free, engulfing her shoulders, chest, and upper back as it fell.

Stardate: 2365.02.07
USS Peregrine. LT Rockatansky's quarters. 0545hrs.
As Rock stared up at the room's ceiling, his right arm behind his head, he thought of the road that had brought him to this place. A sarcastic smile crossed his face as he thought to himself how his Dad had to die for his wish of Rock finally joining Starfleet could be realized. The smile in and of itself proof that the whole bitter irony of it was not lost on the Peregrine's lead Tactical officer and it's second officer.

So far this patrol had lasted for most of the crew a long six weeks of boredom, he had heard some of the newer crew wishing for action or just something to cut the boredom. However to Rock this patrol so far was a good thing, as it had meant no dead bodies of red shirts or any other colored shirt. Seeing fellow crew men fall, friend or not, was not something Rock favored.

In an attempt to help break the boredom of this patrol he had started a self defense class open to all. Teaching bits and pieces from the fighting styles he had learned all over Southeast Asia he hoped to help steer thoughts of melancholy to more active area's. Even the Captain and First Officer had joined in a time or two to show a common ground with the other officers and enlisted. For Rock himself it had, had a surprising special benefit not thought of when he had first started the class.

Slowing raising his right arm he saw it was still a good 10 minutes till his alarm was to go off to wake him for this days duty shift. No matter what day or duty shift, Rock always seemed to wake up at least 15 minutes before his set alarm was to go off. Feeling movement on his left arm he turned to face a newly waking sleepy eyed Lt Junior Grade Caity Morgan, his best student... A stunning, very fit ,very hard hitting, redhead he was almost lost in her eyes and smile,Almost.

Without a word he slowly moved his left arm out from under her, and propped himself up looking right at her. A true smile of pleasure and warmth replaced his bitter one.

"Good Morning"

Laughing her eyes full of sparkle she pushed him playfully. "Really, morning? We're in space Rock, there is no real morning " Leaning forward she kissed him full on the mouth which he was happy to return. Then hopping up she covered herself in a towel and headed for the shower.

"I call dibs!" She said then laughed as she sought to close the door before he could react. Moving quickly with no thought of covering up he managed to make his way into the shower with her before she could lock it behind her. Within minutes the water started running, both playfully wrestling for the heat dial.

------------------------------------
Stardate: 2365.02.07
USS Peregrine. 0710hrs
Uniformed and on his way to the tactical station on the bridge he tapped his com and called for a report. The current duty officer was one of his two Ensign's, Linda Blackmon one of his five assigned security personal. His second, Lt Junior Grade John Britt Reid having the next four eight hour shifts off.

=/\= Rockatansky to Blackmon status report =/\=

=/\= Blackmon here sir, everything is green with no threats at this time, interior or exterior.=/\=

=/\= Understood my ETA to the bridge is ten minutes=/\=

=/\= Yes Sir understood =/\=

=/\= Rockatansky out =/\=

With everything secure, his thoughts were on getting to the bridge to releave Blackmon after her current shift. A quick stop in the deck five Observation Lounge for a strong cup of coffee and he'd hit the lift and be there in under ten minutes. As the door to the lounge opened he ran head long into the Peregrines youngest crew member, Petty Officer 2nd class Megan Owen. At 5'3 and 107 pounds she was shorter and much lighter then he, the impact thus causing her to lose her balance. Her PADD and auburn hair flying everywhere he managed to catch her before their impact caused her to fall.

"Easy there Petty Officer, we can't have onboard injuries now can we"

"No sir, sorry sir, I was not looking ahead of me" She said in a semi-trembling voice.

It seemed Rock's stocky body and reputation still made some members of the crew nervous. The rumor of his taking out two Klingons, whether true or not, was firmly entrenched in the younger members of the crew's minds sometimes causing this response.

"Its ok Petty Officer I too was not paying attention. I‘ll try to be on the lookout better next time" He replied in what he hoped was an easy going friendly voice.

Bending down he picked up her PADD and returned it to her. Smiling he moved past her and into the lounge. Stopping at the replicator and grabbing a hot cup of coffee, black, with no sugar or milk added, he made his way back out and into the hallway. Coffee in hand he strode onto the lift and was at the bridge in minutes.

----------------------------------------------
Stardate: 2365.02.07
USS Peregrine. Bridge 0720hrs.
Moving towards the Tactical/Security station and the brown haired women there he stopped before her as she turned at his approach.

"Ensign Blackmon, I have Tactical"

"Aye Aye Sir you have Tactical. One thing to report, Capt Drake received a call from Starfleet at 0715 on a secure line. Maybe some action Sir? "

"Now Ensign you know better then to speculate, the Captain will let us know if we need to be told. You are dismissed"

"Aye Aye Sir"

With a nod of her head Blackmon was moving towards the lift and her next destination upon the ship. With nothing to do for the next 16 hrs her time was her own to spend it however she saw fit.....

Stardate: 2365.02.07
USS Peregrine, Bridge - 0715
--wheeze--

Lieutenant Moriden stood at her console, going over her list of tasks for her shift. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. She was anticipating the arrival of her superior at any moment, and the Benzite exchange officer wanted to be ready with her full report of objectives accomplished. The excitement of the report caused her too wheeze a little as she breathed through her respirator, sounding a little like light snoring.

Lieutenant Reid's personal replicator fixed... check!

--wheeze--

Read through the full system specialists' report, highlighting for Mister Chell's ease... check!
--wheeze--

Full systems scan done at o'one hundred, o'four hundred and o'seven hundred hours... check, check, and...
Candar frowned slightly as her checking was interrupted by a soft "ba-loop" and her console shifted from her checklist to an incoming message from Starfleet. The protocol instructions clearly indicated that the message was classified and meant for the Captain.

"Bridge to Captain," she started. "Starfleet Command is on a secure channel for you. "

--wheeze--

=/\= Please patch it through to me here. =/\= the Captain replied.

"Yes, Captain!" the Benzite forwarded the message to Captain Silas.

--wheeze--

Now... Candar thought to herself, as she pulled her checklist up again. Where was I? Ah yes... passed secured communique from Starfleet Command to Captain Silas... che..!
--wheeze--

First Officer Tochi interrupted her checking. "I hope that's a new assignment," Tochi said, "Otherwise, someone might get smothered today."

--gulp--

Stardate: 2365.02.07
USS Peregrine, Bridge - 0717
",otherwise, someone might get smothered today."

Even over the scarcely suppressed chuckling of the bridge crew, Lt Zai heard the OPS officer's audible gulp, at which time he, too, offered a chuckle and, also, a reassuring glance towards the OPS station. "It was simply a jest, Lt Moriden," he grinned at the Benzite woman, adding a playful wink as he allowed himself to, finally, settle into the Big Chair, "At ease."

"Aye, sir," Moriden replied with a tentative smile of her own, then instantly returned her attentions to her console.

Tochi's gaze slid back toward the viewscreen and, as often happened when he sat in the Captain's chair, allowed himself to recall memories that weren't wholly his own of a time when he'd held a similar position aboard a merchant vessel some hundred plus years ago. We weren't bored then, his mind sighed, nostalgically.

Yes, Tochi countered, but the Federation was younger, we were much older, and the galaxy was a decidedly more chaotic place. That job eventually got us killed, if you recall.
Got Odia killed, his mind corrected, We are still here,
Semantics, Tochi smirked inwardly even as, without truly thinking about it, he assumed the almost sprawling posture that his symbiont's second host had been known to affect in the captain's seat of that, now ancient, merchant ship. He had just begun to recollect how very different that the very trade route the Peregrine now patrolled was back in Odia's time when the turbolift door squelched open, admitting the powerfully built CTO to the bridge.

"Ensign Blackmon, I have Tactical," Rockatansky rumbled, relieving his junior from the post.

Lt Zai listened to the two Tactical officers' exchange,

",Maybe some action,"

",you know better than to speculate,"

,and flicked a glance towards the still closed door to Captain Drakes's ready room. A little speculation is better than a lot of stir-crazy, Tochi mused; wondering, himself, exactly what command was relaying to the CO, and why it was taking Drake so long to relay the details of that communication to the rest of the bridge.

",You are dismissed," Rockatansky said.

"Aye aye, sir," Blackmon responded.

Lt Zai straightened his posture in the chair and let his gaze swing toward the departing Ensign Blackmon and, then, fixing on the CTO. "Morning, Lieutenant," he said, acknowledging Rock, "Anything from TAC that needs to be annotated in the log?"

((OOC: assuming something along the lines of "Little to nothing",))

"Very good," Tochi nodded, "Thank you, Lt Rockatansky." He tapped the console to his right, made a note in the log that, yet again, TAC/SEC had had an uneventful Delta shift, and then let his eyes flit from viewscreen to Ready Room door and back, once more.

"Sir," Ens P'Tammah said, just as Tochi was becoming irritatingly transfixed by the endlessly streaming starfield, "sensors are picking up a contact; bearing zero-two-four mark three-five."

"Distance," Lt Zai queried, leaning forward a bit.

"Approximately two hundred seventy thousand kilometers," Vaela replied, "Profile is small, sir; no larger than an escape pod; but it doesn't seem to be transmitting a distress signal of any sort."

"Life forms?"

"Inconclusive, sir," P'Tammah answered, her fingers dancing over her console, attempting to tweak more data from the sensors, "Sporadic, at best. There seems to be some sort of electro-magnetic interference garbling the scans. Trying to compensate, now."

Tochi nodded and looked to Tactical; "Lt Rockatansky; bolster Mister P'Tammah's scans and give me a tactical analysis, please."

((OOC: Assuming an "Aye, sir" at the moment, Tann, I'll shoot you a PM in regards to this, but it's really nothing to worry about, stand by.))

"Ensign," Tochi addressed Vaela, again, "set a course to intercept, maintain present velocity."

"Aye, sir. Adjusting course; zero-two-four mark three-five; full impulse."

Tochi tapped his comm-badge, then: =/\= Bridge to Captain Drake. We've pinged an unknown contact just outside our patrol route, sir. We're en route to intercept.=/\=

Stardate: 2365.02.07
USS Peregrine, Captain's Ready Room - 0720
Commander Drake sat at his desk, fuming impotently at the viewscreen. Having had no interaction in the past with Admiral Harding, he found her thinly veiled distaste - to say nothing of her barely concealed hinted threats - to be aggravating and frustrating. He forced himself to take deep, measured breaths, and to instead focus on the aspects of the situation that he could influence - the logistics of the new mission, how it would impact the crew, what preparations would need to be made. Certainly, a staff meeting was in order; first, an order for the new heading would need to be placed, then a meeting for oh eight hundred with the department heads to brief them on their orders.

Just as he was about to key the comm, it beat him to the punch and chirped.

=/\=Bridge to Captain Drake,=/\= came the XO's voice. =/\=We've pinged an unknown contact just outside our patrol route, sir. We're en route to intercept.=/\=

Talk about your timing, he mused as he rose to his feet. "On my way, lieutenant," he answered.

*********************************************

Stardate: 2365.02.07
USS Peregrine, Bridge - 0725
Silas strode onto the bridge, annoyance likely still evident on his face to those who bothered to look closely - though, with the detection of an unknown contact, it could be easily mistaken as seriousness about the situation at hand. Not that anyone was likely looking at the Captain, anyway... not after six weeks of boring patrols.

Commander Drake nodded to Lieutenant Zai as he moved to take the Captain's chair. "Report, Lieutenant," he spoke directly. "What are we looking at, what do we know?"

(OOC: assuming a summation of the items mentioned prior to his entering of the bridge)

At roughly a quarter of a million kilometers, the contact was already within effective weapons range. It was interesting, then, how the Peregrine had failed to pick up the object until now. Immediately, Drake began issuing orders.

"Helm, slow to one quarter impulse until we have a better idea what we are looking at. Lieutenant Moriden, tell me everything you can about it. Let's put it onscreen, full magnification, please. Rock, bring the phasers online. Don't lock them on yet, but I want to be ready in case this is pirate-related."

Without waiting for responses, Drake keyed his commbadge. "Drake to Tesenblen. Lieutenant, I need a science presence on the bridge immediately."

Pausing barely long enough to receive a reply, he keyed the badge again. "Drake to sickbay. Doctor Synklar, we have what looks like a possible escape pod on our sensors. Be ready in the event that we need to treat any wounded."

Orders given, Silas sat back in the command chair just a bit. "So, what do we have here?" he mused. "Is this from a Federation vessel, or someone else?"

Stardate 2365.02.07
USS Peregrine, Engineering - 0727
Eric faced facts: it looked to be another boring shift. He was hoping for something interesting to come out of this morning's staff briefing in a bit, but he had a feeling that the captain was just going to tell them more about how boring their lives were going to be for a while.

Having finished his shower, Eric had donned his uniform and headed to Engineering, via a convenient replicator to grab a steaming cuppa. He sipped it as he entered Engineering and greeted the on-duty personnel. Then there was the obligatory gazing at the warp core, fascinated as ever as he watched the brilliant blue pulses of energy chase themselves down the mighty core's exterior. He could gaze at that all day (with an engineer's knowledge of the cataclysmic forces being mastered and contained within).

After a brief chat with Ensign Jenneric to get a recap of the previous shift's activities and to confirm that the erstwhile master chief had replaced the filched plasma flow regulator, he strolled around Engineering, checking various systems readouts and diagnostic results. As he made his way back around, he saw LtJG Morgan's bright red bunch of hair bobbing about as she came in and relieved Ensign Jenneric. Seeing her nod of greeting in his direction, Eric made his way over to her. "Good morning, Lieutenant," he said with a friendly grin. "Commander, Ltjg Morgan on duty, any orders sir?" she replied. "Just about to give assignments for the day," said Eric. "Not really anticipating anything out of the ordinary: diagnostics, recalibrations, scheduled maintenance...thumb-twiddling, eye-gouging," he added with a wink and another grin. "Carry on, Lieutenant."

With a nod to Morgan, Eric strolled away and completed his rounds, seeing nothing amiss. He glanced over the previous shift's maintenance reports, noting that LtJG Sa'eridon had done an impressive amount of scanning during her shift. That was going to save him some time in zero-G, for which he asked Odin to shower the young Caitian with gratitude, piles of gold, mountains of meat and barrels of mead. Or some extra holosuite time for her. Eric hated zero-G. He was about to corral the incoming shift personnel for their morning assignments/pep talk, when he felt the ship slow down.

A good engineer knows everything going on in and around his ship without having to set foot on a bridge, Eric's father used to say. Eric had taken that to heart, and knew every inch of every ship and station he'd ever served aboard, even taking time to completely familiarize himself with the massive Spacedock in Earth's orbit when he was stationed there. It was no different with the Peregrine, and having become familiar with the little ship's every system, as well as its moods and temperament, Eric felt the change in the ship's speed as the impulse engines throttled down. Scant seconds later, he heard distinctive beeps and tones and saw power readouts change as phasers were powered up.

Eric was no stranger to space combat. He was proud to say he had served under Jean-Luc Picard himself aboard the USS Stargazer at the Battle of Maxia Zeta. Eric had seen the Picard Maneuver firsthand, a brilliant and game-changing tactic born of a moment's desperation. He glanced down at his cybernetic right arm, another souvenir of that desperate battle. While on the Stargazer, and later aboard the Crazy Horse, Eric was in his fair share of battles. So the rush of adrenaline that flooded his system when he saw those phasers power up was familiar,and welcome.

The Starfleet officer in him knew that this could just be a weapons drill. The Viking in his blood hoped it was not.

Eric called across the Engineering bay, "heads up, people; we're powering up phasers." Everyone stood a bit more alert at the implications of that. He knew they felt the same as he: for the moment, at least, they weren't bored. Eric went to the main status table and tapped out commands to make him a workstation interface, and stood ready for whatever word may come next from the bridge.

Stardate: 2365.02.07
USS Peregrine, Lana's Quarters - 0645
Lana's eyes snapped open as her breathing came out in harsh puffs. Sitting up she quickly donned her uniform and grabbed her book on the nearby nightstand knowing she wouldn't be getting back to sleep. Instead of failing and wasting time trying she made her way towards sickbay to read until she was needed.

Stardate: 2365.02.07
USS Peregrine, Sickbay - 0650-0730
Sitting down in her office chair she smiles and opens her book and begins to enjoy the silence of the early morning. As she flipped a page mindlessly of her book when a sudden chirp from her comm startled her

=/\= Drake to Sickbay. Doctor Synklar, we have what looks like a possible escape pod on our sensors. Be ready in the event that we need to treat any wounded.=/\=

Grinning slightly Lana replied quickly as she closed her book "Yes sir." And with that prompt reply, the doctor got up and set about getting her sickbay in order just as was ordered.

Stardate: 2365.02.07
USS Peregrine. LT Rockatansky's quarters. 0545hrs.
She had woke up a little after Rock had but stayed still just listening to the stocky man's heart and soft breathing. When she had been posted to the Peregrine as an Engineer she had, had no intention of any type of romantic involvement. For her, her love of engines came first, yet after the first three weeks even they started to get boring. To ease that boredom she had joined Lt Rockatansky's self defense class just to have something anything to do on her time off duty. However something had happened when they first looked at each other. Nothing like love at first site, god what a outdated term but definitely lust. A week later had found them enjoying more then teaching and being taught how to defend vs. an enemy attack.

Finally deciding to open her eyes she saw him at once turn to look at her,

"Good Morning"

Laughing her eyes full of sparkle she pushed him playfully. "Really, morning? We're in space Rock, there is no real morning " Leaning forward she kissed him full on the mouth which he was happy to return. Feeling a little bit precious she quickly hopped up, covered herself in a towel, and headed for the shower.

"I call dibs!" She said then laughed as she sought to close the door before he could react. She knew he'd make it in before the door would fully close and maybe just maybe she cheated a bit on her quickness. Before she knew it the water was running and the both of them were fighting to set the waters temperature dial. I like this and I like him, oh god what am I doing here? Shut up enjoy it already Her mind blasted at her as she finally lost the temperature fight.

----------------------------------------------

Stardate: 2365.02.07
USS Peregrine. Engineering 0720hrs.
Her bright red hair up in her normal severe on duty bunch she entered engineering 10 minutes before her 0730 shift to find Chief Engineering Officer Eric Thorson already on duty. Moving over to her assigned station she relieved Ensign Jenneric and gave him a nod to acknowledge his presence.

"Commander, Ltjg Morgan on duty, any orders sir?"

----------------------------------------

Stardate: 2365.02.07
USS Peregrine. Bridge 0722hrs.
Lt Zai straightened his posture in the chair and let his gaze swing toward the departing Ensign Blackmon and, then, fixing on the CTO. "Morning, Lieutenant," he said, acknowledging Rock, "Anything from TAC that needs to be annotated in the log?"
Looking towards the bridge commander Rock replied.

"No Sir not at this time, ahh wait"

A blinking light at the console in front of him had gotten his attention out of the corner of his eye. Adjusting the sensor reading he was about to report some type of object detected. However before he could do so Ensign P'Tammah beat him to it.

"Sir, sensors are picking up a contact; bearing zero-two-four mark three-five."

"Distance," Lt Zai queried, leaning forward a bit.

"Approximately two hundred seventy thousand kilometers," Vaela replied, "Profile is small, sir; no larger than an escape pod; but it doesn't seem to be transmitting a distress signal of any sort."

"Life forms?"

"Inconclusive, sir," P'Tammah answered, her fingers dancing over her console, attempting to tweak more data from the sensors,

"Sporadic, at best. There seems to be some sort of electro-magnetic interference garbling the scans. Trying to compensate, now."

Tochi nodded and looked to Tactical; "Lt Rockatansky; bolster Mister P'Tammah's scans and give me a tactical analysis, please."

"Yes Sir" Rock's hands moved quickly over his built in keyboard.

"Sir the target appears to be some type of an escape pod, however it's giving off some peculiar tachyon readings" Rock paused unsure if what he was reading was correct. "Almost as if it was ejected from it's host vessel while said vessel was at warp. I do not read any life signs but that could be the electro-magnetic interference."

As Rock was reporting this to Lt Tochi, Captain Drake appeared on the bridge.

Report, Lieutenant," he spoke directly to Tochi as the two switched chairs. "What are we looking at, what do we know?"

After a quick recap Drake issued his next orders with the escape pod already within roughly a quarter of a million kilometers, the contact was already within effective weapons range. It was interesting, then, how the Peregrine had failed to pick up the object until now. Immediately, Drake began issuing orders.

"Helm, slow to one quarter impulse until we have a better idea what we are looking at. Lieutenant Moriden, tell me everything you can about it. Let's put it onscreen, full magnification, please. Rock, bring the phasers online. Don't lock them on yet, but I want to be ready in case this is pirate-related."

"Aye Aye Captain phaser's online."...............

Stardate: 2365.02.07
USS Peregrine, Bridge - 0725
The moment that the Captain's Ready Room door swooshed open, Lt Zai extricated himself from the command seat and moved to stand, at the ready, just to the right. His gaze still patrolled a circuit from view screen, to helm, to Ops, to TAC; only veering from that course for an instant when Drake approached and took his seat.

"Report, Lieutenant," the Captain ordered after exchanging curt nods with Tochi. "What are we looking at, what do we know?"

"It appears to be an escape pod of some sort, sir," Zai responded, "Exact configuration and origin unknown, at this point. Ident scans seem to be limited as the result of some sort of EM interference; possibly related to the high tachyon emissions coming from the thing or, perhaps, something from the inorganic matter or debris in the pod's vicinity."

Zai moved, then, to the XO's console and, with a few strokes, filtered data from the other bridged stations to it's display. "Lifeform scans are similarly affected," he continued, "We're receiving sporadic readings but they're inconclusive, at best.

Not sure where it might have come from, sir, but the residual tachyon dispersal around the thing would seem to indicate it was ejected from it's parent vessel at warp."

Captain Drake issued a laundry list of orders across the bridge, then - calling the helm to slow their approach, ordering deeper scans and visuals from Ops, and requesting phasers at the ready from Tactical - before, also, queueing up the Science and Medical departments. "So, what do we have here?" Drake mused, once the orders were distributed, "Is this from a Federation vessel, or someone else?"

"We're trying to determine that, now, Captain," Tochi answered without looking up from his own console, "Establishing a tachyon detection grid and initializing a metaphasic sweep in order to see if we can't get some sort of bearing on the pod's host ship. If she's cloaked and still in the vicinity we should be able to locate her," He tapped the console, then, sharing the feeds with the appropriate stations. ",and, if she passed by and punched the pod at high-warp, we ought to be able to lock on to her wake and identify her telemetry, if nothing else."

Lt Zai couldn't help but allow a small grin to tug at the corners of his mouth as, at last, he turned from his console and strode back to take up position at Drake's right, again. A break in the hum-drum, at last, the Trill sighed inwardly, minor as it may be. His eyes fixed on the viewscreen's magnified display of the object, then, and, taking a few steps forward, his brow furrowed and his lips skewed into the faint semblance of a scowl. "We can't be certain, sir," he intoned after a moment, still studying the viewscreen, "but that doesn't appear to be a Starfleet pod. If we're not mistaken, it looks to be Hekaran."

Stardate: 2365.02.07
USS Peregrine, Bridge - 0725
"Helm, slow to one quarter impulse until we have a better idea what we are looking at. Lieutenant Moriden, tell me everything you can about it. Let's put it onscreen, full magnification, please."

Moriden's fingers danced across the Ops console, bringing Peregrine's sensory array to bear on the unknown pod. "Captain, visual coming on the screen now."

"So, what do we have here?" Drake mused, once the orders were distributed, "Is this from a Federation vessel, or someone else?"

"We're trying to determine that, now, Captain," Tochi answered. Even as the XO spoke, the Benzite officer was running the scans Tochi indicated, trying to stay one step ahead of her superior. Tochi continued, "Establishing a tachyon detection grid and initializing a metaphasic sweep in order to see if we can't get some sort of bearing on the pod's host ship... we can't be certain, sir, but that doesn't appear to be a Starfleet pod. If we're not mistaken, it looks to be Hekaran."

"Lieutenant Tochi is correct, Captain," Moriden piped up. "The escape pod's transponder is registering it as belonging to the Mirela, a Hekaran science vessel. However, I am unable to locate the Mirela on our long range scanners. Both the detection grid and metaphasic sweep aren't showing anything of note."

--wheeze--

"I am attempting a magnetic tetryon configuration on the sensors to help cut through the tachyon disruption field," Moriden continued, pausing to recheck the readings from her console. "Hmmm,"

--wheeze—

[OOC: assuming some kind of query,]

"I'm getting through the sub-space disruption, but the scans are coming back with wildly diverse readings of the presence of life forms on the pod, ranging anywhere between zero to several million."

--wheeze--