Lieutenant Markam slumped at her desk.  Her skin was on fire, her breathing was shallow and fast, yet every expansion of her chest brought another dagger through her side.  The cabin was so very dark, and blurry.  How can a cabin be blurry?

She wiped a hand across her brow; it came away crimson; the bleeding had started again.

So many hurt, so many dying.. why did no one come?  The distress signal had been sent, she KNEW it.  Didn't she? 

A thumping at the hatch.  So, they had finally come to finish her off.  Voices, unintelligible, babbling loudly in anger, in hate. 

The sidearm was in her hand, refreshingly cool to the touch.  There was no hope, Markham knew that... but she would not go quietly.  If God ever looked this far away from Earth, surely He would see her courage.  Faithful until the end, just as she had promised she would be.

The hatch hissed open, she aimed in its general direction and fired.  Screams, then the pain turned to unbearable white agony before everything thankfully went black...

Stardate 2365.02.19
USS Peregrine; Deck 1 – Bridge – 10:53

Commander Zai, sprawled in the command chair on the Peregrine’s bridge, dismissed Yeoman Vish and, as she walked away with his signature secured on the repair orders, the Trill dipped his head even further, closed his eyes, and pinched at the bridge if his nose. He had only been in command of the vessel for five days and all of those had been spent in the confines of the starbase while the frigate had undergone repair and refit. Still, yet, it had been a long five days and, in this moment, for perhaps the twentieth time in those short, five days, Tochi found himself exceedingly relieved that his first act as Commanding Officer had been to release all non-essential personnel to on-post liberty. Starbase 118 had, in the past few days, borne the brunt of his restless and uncertain crew; that had been a blessing from the ancestors. The crew that had remained on board, however, and the administrative tasks associated with duty transfers and answering questions that he couldn’t possibly have had answers for until the end of Silas’ trial – another kettle of fish, entirely.

The Trill heaved a weary sigh as he massaged the space between his eyes and, without lifting his lids or so much as turning his head toward the OPS station, asked; “Lieutenant Lasad: status of the refit and repair procedures?”

“All but complete, Captain,” the handsome Risian responded, “Stores are being replenished, as we speak. Structural and mechanical repairs have been completed as of one hour, twenty three minutes ago, and refit efforts are schedule to be accomplished by 1200 hours.”

“Thank you, Dio,” Tochi returned, forcing his eyes open and his spine into a stiffer, more appropriate posture for the Captain’s chair. A wan smile flitted across his lips as his eyes fell on Lasad at his station; the man hadn’t been aboard long, at all, but, in the short time he’d served the Peregrine, he had proved more than apt and capable in his position. “You’re sure there’s nothing we can do to keep you, Lieutenant Lasad,” Zai queried, even though he already knew the answer.

“I’m afraid not, sir,” Dio said, glancing over his shoulder with that brilliant grin plastered on his face, “Opportunity is opportunity, after all, and, no offense intended, of course, the opportunity I’ve been offered is so much more promising than what I might accomplish here.”

Chuckling softly, Tochi nodded and, weakly, waved a hand to dismiss the man’s explanation. “No need for excuses, Lieutenant,” he grinned, “Your position is completely understood. We’ll do well to fill your slot with anyone half as capable.”

“Thank you, sir,” Lasad smiled before turning his attentions back to the console to finish out his last shift, “The sentiment is much appreciated.”

Tochi’s gaze flitted toward the TAC station, then, and thumb and forefinger came back to the bridge of his nose when he saw Reid manning the console as opposed to Berk… The man is likely already packing his quarters, the Trill thought. That one had potential, too. We would have liked to see him stay aboard for, at least, one more tour…

The muted whoosh of the turbo-lift door snatched at his attentions, just then, but that sound had been such an ever-present thing in the past few days that, Tochi had managed to tune it out, for the most part.

…Probably just Riva with another work order for us to sign off on, he sighed inwardly as footsteps sounded, clipping purposefully from the threshold of the lift toward the command chair, or relief for Engineering, perhaps. We could really use a cup of…

“Comfortable in that seat, Commander Zai?” a familiar and too long absent voice queried before Tochi’s eyes could come open and his head roll in that direction.

Silas?

The weight that had beleaguered Tochi’s eyelids the past few days lifted at the sound of that voice, and the slump in his shoulders was forgotten, too. The Trill’s eyes shot open in concert with him rising swiftly out of the seat. Smiling the best and brightest smile that had graced his lips in days, Lieutenant Commander Zai snapped off a crisp salute and took a step back, away from the Big Chair. “Not comfortable, at all sir,” he beamed at Silas where the man stood just a meter away, now, “Just keeping it warm for you…”

Commander Drake returned the salute, then broke out into a wide grin.  "I very much appreciate that, my friend.  Commander Zai, by the order of Starfleet Command, I hereby assume command of the USS Peregrine."

OOC: any response

Settling into the Captain's chair, Drake keyed the communicator.  "Now hear this.  This is Commander Silas Drake.  Effective immediately, I am re-assuming command of the USS Peregrine.  As I understand it, Starfleet Command is anxious for us to stop taking up space here at Starbase 118, so as soon as our refit is complete, we will be making weigh.  Captain Drake out."

Seemingly from nowhere Petty Officer Vish appeared, PADD in hand.  Silas rolled his eyes.  "I had hoped that Commander Zai would have saved me the paperwork."

The yeoman grinned crookedly in response.  "No, sir. Once I got wind of your return, I made sure to save a few for you.  I couldn't let you feel unwanted, now could I?" 

Drake snorted in response.  As he opened the PADD, he found a list of several documents needing his attention - several of which appeared to be personnel transfer notices.  The Peregrine could not seem to catch a break; with the exception of Tochi, as soon as Silas stated to get comfortable with his senior staff, it seemed that they were replaced.

He supposed that it should be no surprise that it would happen now, given the Court Martial and the Peregrine being taken out of service, but it was no less frustrating.

Silas sighed and shook his head.  "It would seem that you have everything well in hand, Tochi.  If you will forgive me, I think that I will take the opportunity to unpack my bags.  Apparently, you aren't to be rid of me quite yet."

OOC: any reponse

Drake nodded.  "Commander Zai, you have the conn." With that, the reinstated CO rose, and headed for the turbolift. 

Stardate 2365.02.19
USS Peregrine; Deck 1 – Bridge – 10:59

A quiet but clear voice sounded near the TAC station, "Mister Reid, you're relieved." The speaker was a tallish woman with friendly hazel eyes and blonde hair that was nearly silver, Lieutenant Kara Tal, recently transferred aboard to serve as the CTO. Somehow both alert and easy, she had glided over to the TAC station in relative silence after Drake had left, almost as if she had been waiting for him to leave, but how could she have known, being minutes away when he left the Bridge.

OOC: Assuming Reid follows her order

Lieutenant Tal nods to Zai and speaks up slightly louder, "Commander Zai, Sir, I'm taking over TAC station, if that's acceptable? I want to further familiarize myself with our systems." As she speaks, she runs her fingers over the TAC console reverently, being careful not to actual activate something. Once she has, she stares seemingly at thin air and her slightly-gloved left hand flutters in the space she stares. Then she smiles and focuses back on Zai.

OOC: assuming Zai is okay with that

She plays the air abiove the console like a church organist soloing during a hymn. An expression of satisfaction spreads over her face as she reapeatedly mutters, "Backdoor...goodbye," while her hands work. After several minutes, she looks up with a smile, "Systems seem good. A little bit of squirrelly programming her and there, but I think I've gotten some code written to tie those up, with permission. I won't implement any code without express permission, of course. There may be things I don't know about your ship that are dependent on it, though I don't see any dependancies..." she drifts off and her eyes unfocus as her left hand starts fluttering in the air, punctuated by the ocassional press on the TAC console itself.

Stardate 2365.02.19
USS Peregrine; Deck 1 – Bridge – 10:56

“Comfortable in that seat, Commander Zai?” a familiar and too long absent voice queried before Tochi’s eyes could come open and his head roll in that direction.

Silas?

The weight that had beleaguered Tochi’s eyelids the past few days lifted at the sound of that voice, and the slump in his shoulders was forgotten, too. The Trill’s eyes shot open in concert with him rising swiftly out of the seat. Smiling the best and brightest smile that had graced his lips in days, Lieutenant Commander Zai snapped off a crisp salute and took a step back, away from the Big Chair. “Not comfortable, at all sir,” he beamed at Silas where the man stood just a meter away, now, “Just keeping it warm for you…”

Commander Drake returned the salute, then broke out into a wide grin.  "I very much appreciate that, my friend.  Commander Zai, by the order of Starfleet Command, I hereby assume command of the USS Peregrine."

It’s good to see you smiling, again, Silas, Tochi didn’t bother to say aloud. Instead, the Trill let the salute fall easily into a welcoming handshake, and offered a nod as Drake officially relieved him of command. “We’re more than happy to hand it back to you,” he grinned, “Welcome back, Captain.”

As Drake settled into the Big Chair, Zai, still smiling, strode toward the XO’s console and eased into the seat. He cued open a few files he had begun reviewing earlier and, for a moment, lost himself in their contents. Again, he heard the hiss of hatch pneumatics and the steady clip of footsteps and, again, he managed to tune it out… at least, until he heard voices at his back…

"I had hoped that Commander Zai would have saved me the paperwork."

Tochi glanced over his shoulder to see the Captain’s yeoman handing over a PADD for Drake’s review.

“No, sir,” Vish said from behind a crooked smile, “Once I got wind of your return, I made sure to save a few for you.  I couldn't let you feel unwanted, now could I?”

As Silas snorted a response, Tochi flicked a wink and a grin at the Bajoran woman. “There has been plenty to go around, sir,” he chuckled, turning his attention back to his own console, “we would have been remiss to keep it all for myself.”

The typical drone and murmur of bridge activity returned for a while and, so very pleased to have Drake back where he belonged, Tochi found his mind constructing something of a melody out of the chirps and chatter. He had just begun to softly hum along with the tune he was constructing when he heard the Captain breathe a sigh and shift in his chair.

“It would seem that you have everything well in hand, Tochi,” Silas commented, coaxing Zai from his own seat, “If you will forgive me, I think I will take the opportunity to unpack my bags. Apparently, you aren’t to be rid of me quite yet.”

“Apparently not, sir,” the Trill grinned, approaching the command seat again, “I believe we said something to that effect not more than a week ago.”

Drake nodded. “Commander Zai, you have the conn,” he said, rising from the seat and turning toward the turbolift.

“Aye aye, sir,” Tochi answered, standing at ease next to the command seat but not bothering to sit himself back in it, “Take your time, Captain.” As Drake disappeared through the lift doors, Tochi began a wandering circuit around the bridge, stopping at this station and that to get an eye on the work that was being done, offer his input in some cases, and answer a question or two as they were posed. He had apparently tuned out the whoosh and hiss of the hatchways, again, though, and it wasn’t until he heard an unfamiliar voice address him that he realized it.

“Commander Zai, sir,” the quiet but clear voice called, prompting him to turn his eyes toward TAC, “I’m taking over the TAC station if that’s acceptable? I want to further familiarize myself with our systems.”

Tochi blinked, befuddled at the sudden appearance of a new body on the bridge… What?... He blinked again, watching in silence for that split second as the impressively built woman in TAC golds danced her fingers over the console... Who?... His mind scrambled through the paperwork Vish had been inundating him with over the course of the past few days, trying to determine if he’d seen this woman’s face in any of the transfer requests. He blinked a third time and realization dawned on him; this was Lt Kara Tal, the Peregrine’s new Chief Tactical Officer. She had come aboard days ago, he recalled, but circumstances being what they were, at the time, Tochi hadn’t yet had the time to meet the woman in anything more than passing. “Of course, Lieutenant,” he answered her, at last, “make yourself at home.”

And it might do us well to get some sleep after this shift, Zai chuckled inwardly with a shake of his head, Have we introduced ourselves to any of the new arrivals, yet? He sighed softly, shook his head again, and turned back to the Engineering officer he had been speaking with. “Apologies, Mr Jenneric,” he smiled, “and, yes, if you would, put a team together to re-check the ODN conduits and servos within three compartments on either side of the VIP quarters. See to it, if you would, that Kari has a look at the structural bracing in those areas, as well. We know the damage from the explosion has been repaired to Starbase standards but I’d hate for us to lose an entire compartment to the void because something was overlooked.”

“Backdoor…goodbye.”

“Yes, sir,” Ens Jenneric responded, making note of the area the XO had indicated on the MSD and trying very hard not to stare at the rather imposing woman who stood at TAC muttering to herself, “I’ll get that going right away.”

“Backdoor…Goodbye.”

“Thank you, Paula,” Tochi grinned, clasping his hands behind his back as he stepped away from the ENG console and started to meander toward TAC…

“Backdoor… Goodbye.”

…He stopped at the outer edge of the console and, for a long moment, simply watched as Lt Tal worked (and, listened as, preceded each time by an acknowledging chirp from the computer, she murmured “Backdoor…Goodbye” ). After a minute or so, he offered a smile and asked; “Everything meets with your approval, we hope, Lieutenant?”

She looked up from the panel, then, and easily returned the Trill’s smile. “Systems seem good,” she answered, “A little bit of squirrelly programming here and there, but I think I've gotten some code written to tie those up, with permission. I won't implement any code without express permission, of course. There may be things I don't know about your ship that are dependent on it, though I don't see any dependencies...”

“Permission granted,” Tochi replied with a nod, “It is your department, now, after all, and…”

The woman seemed to drift off, then, her eyes going blank and her left hand fluttering in the air over the console with only the occasional tap on the thing. Zai’s head canted to one side and his congenial smile melted into and expression of what might have been curious concern. “Are you all right, Lieutenant,” he inquired, his hands unclasping and coming to rest on the edge of her station.

((OOC: Any reply…  ))

Lt Commander Zai nodded at her response and the smile returned to his features. “You know, Lt Tal,” he said in an almost repentant tone, “Seeing you here reminds us that I haven’t been entirely focused on our duties as the Peregrine’s First Officer. You’ve been on board for nearly four days now, and it occurs to us that we haven’t properly welcomed you aboard or so much as spoken to you other than in passing. If you have a few moments, we’d like to rectify that oversight, now.”

((OOC: Stopping there for now. Assuming Lt Tal doesn’t object, Zai will invite the woman to walk with him in hopes of having a “get to know you” chat and lead her off the bridge, likely toward his office. We can do a collab on that, if you like, Josie, or we can do a back and forth, here. Up to you. ))

((OOC: perfectly good with a back and forth, though a collab might be interested, haven't really done that before and some pointers would be welcome))

The woman seemed to drift off, then, her eyes going blank and her left hand fluttering in the air over the console with only the occasional tap on the thing. Zai’s head canted to one side and his congenial smile melted into and expression of what might have been curious concern. “Are you all right, Lieutenant,” he inquired, his hands unclasping and coming to rest on the edge of her station.

"Sorry Sir, I tend to 'get in the zone' when I'm in the systems. It's, uh, like a dance to me. Everything else sort of just fades away except for the choreography and movement. I don't know if you've had a chance to look at my file yet, but I have clearance to use a haptic interface," she points to each of her eyes in turn, then to her partially-gloved left hand. "Display lenses, a haptic glove, and a modified 'corder. I prefer it to a PADD because it allows systems integration in situations a PADD would be... awkward. And with what I've set up her, I once I'm granted RW permissions, my rig can access that," she gestures to the TAC station, "In emergencies when I'm not on-deck. Jst in case we find ourselves in a situation where that might be necessary..." she some drifts of and grits her teeth.

Then she looks up at his offer to walk and talk, "I believe I've familiarized myself with my station suffficiently for now, Sir. I wouldn't mind stretching my legs and getting a good look at the ship and crew. I may have been isolating myself somewhat. It's uh, my first time back on board a Fleet ship in several years. I've been stationed on Vulcan for medical leave." When she says that she has a guilty expression on her face. "Uh, well... would you mind leading the way Sir?"

Stardate 2365.02.19
USS Peregrine; Deck 1 – Bridge – 11:02

Following Tal’s explanation of the haptic interface she preferred to use, a good deal of the concern Zai had felt at her “zoning out” eased away. He nodded at her response and the smile returned to his features. “You know, Lt Tal,” he said in an almost repentant tone, “Seeing you here reminds us that I haven’t been entirely focused on our duties as the Peregrine’s First Officer. You’ve been on board for nearly four days now, and it occurs to us that we haven’t properly welcomed you aboard or so much as spoken to you other than in passing. If you have a few moments, we’d like to rectify that oversight, now.”

She looked up at him, again, her eyes coming back into focus. "I believe I've familiarized myself with my station sufficiently for now, Sir,” Tal answered, “I wouldn't mind stretching my legs and getting a good look at the ship and crew. I may have been isolating myself somewhat. It's uh, my first time back on board a Fleet ship in several years. I've been stationed on Vulcan for medical leave…"

The guilt-ridden expression that flashed over the woman’s features, just then, didn’t go unnoticed but it did go unmentioned for the time being. After his joining, Tochi, too, had been released on medical leave and, at times during that stretch, he had felt some guilt of his own… A bit of common ground, between she and we, then, he mused… Rather than make mention of it, just now, though, the Trill simply arched a brow and offered an affable smile.

“…Uh, well...” Lt Tal continued, “Would you mind leading the way Sir?”

“Of course,” Tochi nodded, taking a step back from the console and gesturing toward the turbolift before clasping his hands behind his back once more, “Please; this way.” With that, and with Tal on his heels, he strode toward the lift. His gazed flitted toward the CONN and the Andorian woman manning the helm as the door slid away before him; “Vaela,” he said, drawing the woman’s attention, “You have the bridge.”

“Aye, sir,” Ens P’Tammah acknowledged, not bothering to get out of her seat, “It’s not as if we’re going anywhere, just yet.”

Tochi simply grinned at that and stepped aboard the lift and waited for Tal to follow. Once the doors shushed shut, he called out; “Deck 2.” Once the lift was in motion, the Trill’s green-gold eyes turned to regard the new CTO and his hands unclasped, once more. “First and foremost, Lt Tal,” he said, offering a hand in greeting, “Welcome to the Peregrine.”

"Thank you, Sir, I'm glad to be here," she says, grasping his hand. Her grip is firm, yet reserved, strong and controlled. A weak grin forms on her face, with a touch of pride in it.

Releasing the woman’s hand, then, a soft, chuckling sigh escaped his lips. “We have to admit, things have been a bit hectic around here, of late,” he said, “and that being the case, I haven’t had the time to review your file as thoroughly as we would have liked. From what we do remember of your dossier, though, your career with Starfleet has been exemplary…” He regarded the woman with a compassionate eye, then, and smiled softly… “That said, we couldn’t help but notice the vaguely shamed expression that crossed your face when you mentioned your medical leave. Is there something we should know in that regard?”

She nods, swallows silently, and sheepishness crosses her face, "Permission to speak freely, Sir?"

Tochi’s head tipped forward a fraction, not quite a nod; “Please, do.”

"Sir, I suffer from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder," she swallows, "There was a lot of talk about washing me out after my last mission and I was diagnosed. But K'Tal, the former XO of the Niobe pulled some strings, along with the fact that I was commended by both Starfleet and the Klingons - I helped them end a major pirate issue, it turns out. This posting is my chance to not wash out. Uh, a lot of people seem to watching me." She shakes her head. "I don't want to disappoint them. And I don't want to disappoint Starfleet, it's the only place I've felt at home. I realize from what I've told you, you have the right to be skeptical about my ability to do my duty, but I've spent the last two years on Vulcan learning to control my mind. I lived in an isolated mountain top monastery where Vulcans go to heal from psychic wounds. As they used to say on Earth, 'I got this.'"

Following her admission, the Trill’s brows creep slightly higher up his forehead but the smile he offered when she had finished emoted a certain air of empathy. “We’re not skeptical, at all, Kara,” he smiled warmly, resting a reassuring hand briefly on the woman’s shoulder, “In fact, we can somewhat relate to your situation. It wasn’t that long ago that I experienced something similar…” His hand fell away from her shoulder, then, and he grinned knowingly… “Our circumstances may be different,” he continued just before the turbolift came to a stop and the doors opened onto Deck Two, “but, trust me when I tell you that suddenly being inundated with four previous lifetimes worth of memories can make a frilling mess out of a mind...”

“Please,” he offered, gesturing for her to take the lead off of the lift, “Our office is just up the corridor and to the right.” Following her out into the hallway, Tochi turned in the direction he had indicated and let his steps guide them toward his office as he continued.

“…We spent the better part of four months on Trill, under supervision of the doctors and docents at the Symbiosis Commission, learning to adapt to who we had become, and there were moments in that span where we, too, doubted that we’d ever be fit to return to duty.” A dry chuckle escaped him, then, and he offered a faint shrug to go along with it as they reached his office door and it whisked away ahead of them. “The doctors, themselves, were skeptical, too,” he confessed, lifting a finger to tap at one spotted temple as he strode onto the room’s carpet, “called us glitchy. Here we are, though; almost eleven years later and Executive Officer to one of the finest Captain’s Starfleet has to offer.”

As the door whispered shut behind them, Tochi moved toward the replicator niche in the wall next to his desk; “Can I offer you something to drink, Kara?”

"Thank you, Sir. Water, please - mineral complement 38A at sixteen and two-thirds degrees Celsius."

With a nod, he orders up the water to her preferences, and hands her over the glass once it materializes. As she takes the glass and sips, Tochi orders up a Vulcan spiced tea for himself. Then, taking the cup from the replicator, he turns and perches himself on the edge of his desk.

She swallows and smiles minimally, "This is more talking than I usually tend to do, it's left me a bit parched, I must admit." She looks him up and down, "Trill aren't a topic I'm entirely familiar with, so it's quite fascinating to meet you. Are you separate consciousnesses or are your consciousnesses joined? I gather you use he/him/his pronouns generally, not they/them/theirs?”

Blunt, Tochi grinned around the rim of his cup, we like it. He nursed a sip of the tea and, in doing so, contemplated how to best answer her question. When the cup came away from his mouth, he held it cradled between both hands and offered a faint shrug. “It’s a bit more complicated than that,” he said, “but, yes, without putting too fine a point on it, we are a joined consciousness.” He shakes his head a little at that. “I am us,” he chuckles, “but we are, also, just me. The best way to describe it, I suppose, is to compare it with recovering from amnesia. I lived for 21 years believing that those were the only years I had ever had and, then, one day, I wake up to discover that we have so many more memories and experiences and interests than I ever imagined possible. It’s quite overwhelming, to be honest.”

He tips the cup to his lips, again, before continuing; “As to the pronouns; yes. Typically, if we refer to a previous host, it is with specificity… he, she, I… but, in the moment, day-to-day, it feels like we in here.” He tapped his temple again and smiled. “Part of the glitchiness that the Symbiosis Commission diagnosed us with, I suppose.”

"It's oddly relatable...” Kara returned, “…when I interface with a computer system, especially one with an AI, I feel like I'm a part of something more. Not in the sense of being an individual in a group or a unit in a hive mind," when she says "hive mind" she shudders and shakes her head, then continues, "It's like a partnership, but also being like one person together. You can probably describe what I'm trying to say better than I can," she finishes with a nervous chuckle.

Tochi laughed right along with her. “We’re not entirely sure about that, Lieutenant,” he grinned, “’Something more’ and ‘one person together’ are probably the perfect ways to explain it, we believe.”

"The computers and I are like this," she intertwines her index and middle fingers. "When I was in Academy, I actually got a little too close to the computers... looked at some databases I 'shouldn't'," she makes quotes for that, then continues, "have, but it wasn't anything malicious. Information is... comforting. Shining a light in the darkness, as it were. You know?"

“I do,” he nodded, “The thing about lights in the darkness, though, is that if they flare too brightly they tend to leave us blind to the path ahead of us, yes? It’s easy to get lost in knowledge and leave instinct and intuition alone in the dark, as it were. The trick, we think, if to find a balance and maintain it as best we can.

What I’m saying, Kara,” the Trill smiled, “is that we don’t want you coming aboard the Peregrine knowing that you are being scrutinized or, for that matter, judged due to anything that may be recorded in your jacket… Think it, if you can’t help but do otherwise, but don’t let those thoughts trick you into believing that it’s knowledge… Do your job to the best of your ability and as required by your station and, we’re sure, you will excel. That is all you will be judged by on this ship.”

She nods, "Honestly, I was somewhat surprised at this posting, especially after the recent trial. I heard a little about that, but the important thing is, the right parties seem to be being... dealt with." She sighs, "I don't necessarily think it's you or the Commander that's going to be judging me. I'm more worried about command, and to a greater degree my mentor K'Tal. I know he wants the best for me, I'm just worried about him being disappointed. And I'm worried that I'll be judged unfit for duty at some point by a Fleet psychiatrist." She sighs again, "Sorry to bother you with these worries, since there's not much I can do but what you said, doing my job to the best of my ability."

“Just so,” Tochi nodded before taking another sip of his tea. Swallowing, he set the cup aside, then, and turned his eyes back to the woman; “And you’re not bothering me, Lieutenant; this is our job...” His smile warmed a bit and he shrugged. “…Probably more so, as Peregrine lacks a dedicated Counselor. Our door is always open should you need an ear, Kara.”

Remembering the cup in her hand, she takes a deep swig of water, "Ahhh. Thank you sir, I appreciate that. I think I'll have to take you up on that offer. Maybe in turn, I can share some Vulcan meditation techniques with you. Perhaps you might even join me in meditation?" She asks hopefully. Then she waves her hand dismissively and says almost morosely, "That might be too time consuming for both of us, though, so that's probably too much to ask."

“Not at all,” Tochi grinned in reply, pushing away from his desk, “Should there be time, I think we might enjoy that.”

She pulls at her uniform's collar with her left index finger, "Sir? Uh, should I return to the bridge? It's been awhile since I've served shipboard, but isn't it usual to leave the TAC station manned most of the time?" She looks worried, as if she's done something wrong.

“Relax, Lieutenant,” the Trill said, his tone soothing, “We’re still in spacedock and, as I’m sure you’ll soon discover, you head up a pretty reliable and intuitive department; we’re sure someone is covering TAC for you, as we speak.” He glanced at the chrono embedded in the surface of his desk, then, and nodded faintly. “We have taken up enough of your time, however, and there is a lot to be done before we make weigh; so, yes, if you’d like to return to the bridge or your own office, don’t let me keep you.”

He takes a couple of steps, closing the distance between them, and extends a hand; “It’s been a pleasure to finally meet you, Lt Tal. Thank you for your time.”

"Sir, thank you and you're quite welcome, sir. I'm glad my department is so well-run, it'll making taking over easier. Hopefully I won't have to change much, though I am thinking of having regular combat drills to keep them fresh." Her eyes glaze over for a fraction of the section and she continues, "Speaking of which, there's two young men coming aboard right now - a Bolian and a Vulcan..." She seems both puzzled and concerned, "I know one and the other has the last name of one of my fellow survivors. What gives..." she mutters, then looks up, "Sorry sir, I'm babbling!" 

Zai chuckled, again, and shook his head. “Not at all, Lieutenant,” he reassured her, taking the water glass from her and nodding toward the door, “Go and see to your friends and your department. We look forward to working with you.”

Stardate 2365.02.19
Star Base 118, Garner's Quarters - 0530

Garner woke up slowly as the computer controlled lights gently came on.  When he opened his eyes, it came as a start.  He leaped out of bed, and hurried to the sonic shower.  He'd finally received his assignment last night.  They said to report to the USS Peregrine by 1200 today.  He was excited, this was his first post, his first tour, and on a Saber Class no less.  High maneuverability in a little ship like that.  He couldn't wait to take her out for a spin.

A little while later he was meeting Argent and Davis for breakfast.  They'd graduated together and all three had been on Starbase 118 waiting for their assignments.  He and Argent had gotten theirs last night, Davis was trying to be happy for them.

Stormrider got up from from the campfire after morning chow was done, and rolled up his bedroll.  His two compadres had ridden with him for a long time, but this road he would need to ride alone.  His fingers danced over the paper in his pocket, the one that told him to find the Desperado.

Stardate 2365.02.19
Star Base 118, Peregrine Docking Bay - 0912

Garner strode confidently through the docking gate showing his assignment orders to the security personel posted outside.  Walking onto the Peregrine the feeling was different, right.  He stood just a few feet in, his feet moving side to side as he felt the carpet.  He knew it was standard issue Starfleet carpet, but this was his first ship, he was making a memory.  

Finding the Ops personnel on duty wasn't difficult, they were posted close to the airlock to be sure to welcome aboard any new crewmembers.  Garner asked where his room would be in a friendly manner, and thanked them.

((OOC: Don't know if this will be a PC or not))

Stormrider dismounted his trusty horse Dusty at the edge of town.  The sun was high and his black Stetson kept most of his face in shadow.  His spurs jingled as he walked his horse into town.  Mother's took one look at him and ushered their children off the street.  Men looked at him out of the corner of their eyes, they didn't want trouble.  Spotting the sign that said "Hotel" Stormrider made his way to get a room.

Stardate 2365.02.19
USS Peregrine; Garner's Quarters - 1025

Garner had unpacked his duffel, and placed the old Stetson on the table.  He'd have to see if he really needed to be onboard six months before he could put one hook in the wall.  He'd heard there was a sliding scale of strictness in Starfleet captains.  Giving everything a visual once over he gave himself a nod of approval.  It's not much, but it's home for the foreseeable future.  

Stormrider pushed open the hotel room door.  Rats scurried into holes in the wall when they heard the door.  The moth eaten covers of the bed were obscured by the dappled sunlight coming in between the louvers on the shudder.  He'd been in worse places.  Not many, but he wasn't going to be here long, that was for sure.

"Computer?  Where can I find..." Garner looked quickly at his assignment post, "Lt. Commander Zai?'"

=/\=Commander Zai is on the Bridge=/\=

"Thank you computer." He said picking up his coffee and finishing it.  Better go introduce myself.

Stormrider had found out from the Can Can dancer in the lobby that the Desperado was in the saloon down the street.  As he walked there the wind kicked up his duster revealing his gunbelt and the silver revolvers therein.  The streets were deserted now, but out of the corner of his eye he could see shutters closing and scared eyes looking out dusty windows. Cocking his neck to the right until it cracked the lone gunman strode out into the street and made his way to the saloon.

On his way to the turbolift Garner's thoughts were interrupted:

=/\=Now hear this.  This is Commander Silas Drake.  Effective immediately, I am re-assuming command of the USS Peregrine.  As I understand it, Starfleet Command is anxious for us to stop taking up space here at Starbase 118, so as soon as our refit is complete, we will be making weigh.  Captain Drake out.=/\=

The Colonel threw open the balcony doors on the second floor of city hall.  Stormrider paused in his procession to hear the words of the man from on high, "Now listen here y'all.  I'm in charge of this here posse. Soon as y'all are saddled up...we ride!"

Stardate 2365.02.19
USS Peregrine; Deck 1 – Bridge – 1056

Garner exited the turbo lift onto the bridge, just as Captain Drake was making his way onto it.  Garner was quick to salute his new captain, "Sir." But it would seem the captain was on his way elsewhere.

The saloon doors creaked open as Stormrider made his way into the establishment.  There he was, the man he'd come to find.  The Desperado quickly stood up from the table, the chair he'd been sitting in falling backward and skittering across the floor.  The man was dressed all in black, black hat, black duster, the crossed bandoleers across his chest were black leather.  The black gloved hand threw the duster aside revealing the black gun at his hip.  The Desperado looked out at Stormrider waiting for the newcomer to make the first move.

Making his way towards the captain's chair, Garner heard the tall Trill say to the Captain's back, "Take your time, Captain."  Then the Lt. Commander started to make his around the circuit.

Garner approached, "Commander Zai?" He asked.

((OOC: Assuming an affirmative))

"Hi, er, hello, sir.  I just wanted to introduce myself."  He juggled between trying to salute and trying to shake the commander's hand. "I'm Ens. Garner.  Bradley.  Brad- Ens. Bradley Garner sir. I'm your new Flight Control Officer."

((OOC: Assuming some kind of greeting))

"I just got on board an hour ago, my assignment said I'd be taking over for Ens. Thomason.  Just got it, that is my assignment, last night....Sir."

((OOC: Assuming acknowledgement))

"Anyway, I don't mean to bother you when you're on duty and all, I just thought it'd be good to come up and put a face with a name.  I'm sure we'll talk lots later.  I'll let you get back to what you're doin'." He paused, "Sir."

((OOC: Assuming some kind of farewell))

The meeting with the Desperado had gone well, the two men had sized each other up and seen the merits in their opposites.  Stormrider would have a new job working with the man in black, and woe betide any who stood in their way.  As he turned to leave the saloon, the doors opened once again.  This time emitting the tallest woman that Stormrider had ever seen.  The sun shone off the tin star on her chest, almost blinding the rider.  She looked past him though, her business was with the Desperado.

Garner turned back to the turbolift, and as he boarded a tall blonde Lieutenant in a gold uniform stepped off.  "Sir." Garner said as he passed her.  She was walking with purpose though, and didn't seem to notice the Ensign. 

"Mister Reid, you're relieved" She said in a quiet but clear voice.

Before the turbo lift doors could close, 'Mister Reid' joined Garner.  

"Good morning Lieutenant," Garner said in greeting.

((OOC: Assuming some kind of greeting.))

"Ens. Garner, Bradley." He said introducing himself.

((OOC: Assuming some kind of response.  And then an awkward pause.))

"So what do y'all do for fun around here?"

Stardate 2365.02.19 (Friday - 42165.7)

USS Peregrine; Science Lab 1, Deck 3 – 10:53

“Have you finished transferring all experiments, Ensign?” Asovil peers at her office wall screen’s depiction of her Assistant Science Officer’s face. The assignment had just been given a couple of days ago with the departure of Petty Officer 3rd Class, Craig Rogers and Crewman Thomas Petra. It is the Andorian scientist’s opinion that Petra should be teaching science somewhere, not practicing it in the field and the Peregrine doesn’t need a chemist. In further effort to clean up her department (and eliminate non-essential personnel), Asovil had recommended their reassignment just after Captain Drake’s trial began. Ensign Maize had been none to happy about the moves but that’s not something that the Chief Science Officer concerns herself with.

“I’ve transferred what I could into Starbase 118’s Science Department’s hands,” Dalia remarks flatly. “I’ve also submitted a proposed schedule change seeing as how we are now understaffed.”

“Thank you.” Ignoring her subordinate’s attempt to restart the argument, Lt. Sh’iraolnas continues. “I do not want another event to occur like that of the recent incident concerning Roger’s experiment. Please see to it that a catalogue of all materials is brought up-to-date—”

/=\ Now hear this. This is Commander Silas Drake. Effective immediately, I am re-assuming command of the USS Peregrine. As I understand it, Starfleet Command is anxious for us to stop taking up space here at Starbase 118, so as soon as our refit is complete, we will be making weigh. Captain Drake out. /=\

Antennas standing rigid, Asovil’s shaped white eyebrows leap upward at the interruption. Dalia’s unusual purple eyes twinkle and she instinctively glances over her shoulder. Because of the restructured department, she is necessarily manning the Science Conn on the Bridge.

“When did Captain Drake arrive?” Asovil levelly inquires.

“A couple of minutes ago,” comes the smug reply.

“And you weren’t going to tell me?”

“I thought it would be a fun surprise,” Ensign Maize replied a little less smugly.

“Andorians do not like surprises, Ensign. In the future, keep me better apprised, please.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good,” leaning forward, the blue-skinned woman taps the screen ending the conversation. Captain Drake has returned which means that he’s been exonerated, and the Peregrine is to be under weigh once more… so, we have a mission. The deduction leads to further conclusions. There would be a mission briefing and it is likely there that Asovil will see the captain again for the first time. Structure and protocol dictates that she not go seeking him out beforehand even to express her pleasure at his return.

Has he any knowledge of the messages I’ve been receiving? Since the first message that couldn’t be traced, Asovil has received two more from the mysterious Terran. Engineering has never been able to determine how the messages are getting through without tracking or leaving any trace and the Andorian woman is beginning to think that they don’t believe she’s actually receiving any communications. She is determined to find a way to prove the interactions but as of this moment, has yet to do so.

Further, her paper has vanished from the records. Not once, not twice, not even three times, but every time she starts to rewrite it (and she’d done so many different times), the document vanishes. It matters not whether she’s using the ship computer or a PADD, and as a result, she’s procured an archaic notebook and has been hand writing her paper, taking the blasted thing with her everywhere she goes so as not to have it mysteriously disappear as well.

Rumor has it that McTavish is returning to a subordinate role and Thorson is returning to active duty. She considers again, talking to Thorson about the issues but finds herself hesitating. Then there’s the new Security Chief, Tal… Asovil has had little interaction with the woman and doesn’t know what to think of her yet.

I’ll bring this up with Captain Drake at my earliest opportunity. He needs to know that there’s a breach in ship security. She’s sure that Tochi will also share the information with his friend as would be the place of the 2nd Officer. She had reported the contact to him almost immediately following the first incident. Any report Tochi, McTavish, herself… anyone makes concerning the communication just vanishes from record adding to the mystique.

Such thoughts give birth to the other security breach she had dealt with ten days earlier, Lauren Crane.

“Computer, the location of Petty Officer 1st Class, Lauren Crane, please.”

/=\ Petty Officer 1st Class, Lauren Crane is currently in her quarters. /=\

Good. At least this aspect of security is functioning as it should. The disciplined PO has completed ten days of her thirty-one day punishment, three of which were being confined to the brig. Now, she spends another seven days confined to her quarters and the remainder of her punishment with extended duties. Asovil hasn’t been to visit her since the hearing. Such niceties are not in her toolkit.

A notice flashes on her screen indicating a recorded communication. Almost instantly, her heart stills and her blood runs extra cold in anticipation of the enigmatic Terran but the insignia is Andorian and her antennae relax.

“Open message,” she instructs the computer resulting in immediate compliance.

“Asovil, I apologize that this is but a recording. Things have been quite busy for us here.” The face on screen is that of an Andorian woman who is much older than she with her white hair done up in a matronly style that allows her antennae to still remain free from constriction. A silver band decorated by intricate scrollwork and dark blue stones cuffs the base of her left antennae. Her forehead shows more ridges than Asovil’s as well, but they share the same shaped eyes and lips. “Your fathers are still working towards the Genetics Initiative that will hopefully stave off the pursuit of the Radicals and your mother, Jihl, is in the process of procuring another shipping vessel. Her time has been quite limited in other capacities and I miss her so.

“The Th'oshrialel family has a son who has just been diagnosed with Haslev-Rahn, the poor souls. He was their last hope of continuing this branch of their line. And your brother, Tethaas, has met a Triad in which he believes he’ll be asked to join and complete their Bond and make them whole. Should this happen, we will make sure you receive the invitation.”

Here, the woman sighs and shakes her head a little though the expression on her blue face is placid, her antennae droop slightly. “I wish you would reconsider your future. You would do your race well to find the three others you need to form a Bond. I know… I know. You are contributing to the Greater Good by serving in Startfleet but by the time this ends, you might as well be afflicted with Haslev-Rahn seeing how your fertile period will be over.”

“By Uzaveh, Asorih,” Lt. Sh’iraolnas breathes, her skin about her cheeks turning purple in a rush and her antennae curling in on themselves.

“What?” the woman looks over her shoulder and calls out, “I’ll be right there.”

Returning her gaze to the recording unit, Asorih, one of Asovil’s mothers, the one who carried her to birth and nursed her, stares impassively at the screen for a moment, her antennae dipping a bit further as she says, “We miss you, daughter. Perhaps on your next leave, you could return home for a few weeks? Please, do not forget to respond. I know how you are.

“Absence makes the heart forget… Uzaveh the Infinite guide you.”

As the screen darkens, Asovil draws in a deep breath. “I have no desire to be a part of shelthreth, mother-mine. There is still so much to accomplish.”

Stardate 2365.02.19
Star Base 118, Peregrine Docking Bay - 11:42

Two young men strode into the Peregrine's docking bay, deeply in discussion of some kind of sport, interuppted by a tallish woman clearing her throat, "Excuse me," says Lt Kara Tal, "Are you Ensign Larb Forb? I know you, Poe Saril," she says pointing at a relatively short young Vulcan man. The other, a well-built Bolian lad stands seemingly-awestruck. After several moments, Kara clears her throat again, "Excuse me, I said. You look like a Forb, that's for certain, Mister." The Bolian manages to stutter out an answer, "Uh uh, Y-y-yes ma'm. Uh! Sir. Sorry sorry, sir." Kara sighs, "At ease. Walk with me, it's nearly lunch. Have either of you eaten?"

Not waiting for an answer, she heads towards the mess at a swift pace with the two of them in tow. As she walks she says, "So, Mister Forb, are you any relation to the Forb that served with me?" Again he stutters, "Uh y-yes sir. M-my s-s-s-s-s-sister. Ol-ol-older." Kara slows her pace but doesn't stop, "It's alright, Mister Forb. Your file doesn't say you have a speech impediment, so I'm assuming your sister has told me some exagerrated stories about my so-called 'heroism'. Get that out of your head right now, Mister. What I did was purely for survival."

She stops and turns, peeling off the glove on her left. What is revealed is an intensely-scarred set of knuckles, swollen from repeatedly having been broken and healed. "What I had to do, I sincerely hope you never have to do," she says, holding her hand up in front of his face to see." Then the Vulcan Poe Saril, who hasn't spoken so far, chimes in, "What is necessary, is necessary. What is done, is done. Neither guilt nor celebration is appropriate. Events are opportunities for learning and growth." Kara nods, "That's a good reminder, friend. How'd you end up here?" she asks. "K'Tal," he simply replies and she nods again. Forb's eyes grow even wider.

"K'tal?! You know him, Poe? You didn't tell me!" The Vulcan nods, "Yes, he's my uncle. He thought I needed some 'field experience' before I committed to becoming a doctor. I have been planning to become a doctor for the past 90 years, I do not see what further reason I need to consider it," he finishes, almost huffing at the end, but managing to retain his composure. "Needless to say," he continues, "he has signficant influence and a perspective that most of our people lack, and he is my uncle. So ultimately I had to accede to his request." He pauses and looks at the doorway down the corrider, "That's the mess, isn't it?" Kara nods and they all continue walking.

Stardate 2365.02.19
USS Peregrine; Deck 2 – XO’s Office – 1120

Following Lt Tal’s departure from his office, Tochi returned her water glass to the replicator alcove and, then, situated himself in the chair behind his desk. Taking up his teacup, again, he glanced at the chronograph, sipped, sighed, and then stroked a finger across the console on his desktop. Following a multi-tonal chirp from the computer verifying that it was recording, the Trill indulged in another sampling of the tea and, then, proceeded with his log entry…

=/\=Executive Officer’s Log; Stardate 42165.7 – I have just had my first real interaction with Lt Kara Tal, the Peregrine’s new Chief Tactical Officer, replacing Lt Berk. Her service record is, for the most part, exemplary – there are some minor blemishes, of course, but, who of us aboard can boast a truly spotless jacket – and, considering the time she has spent on medical leave, she seems more than competent and up to speed on the current protocols and practices of her station… *soft chuckle* … She may even be a light year or two ahead, given the haptic interface she utilizes. I don’t believe we’ve ever seen anything quite like it and it should prove interesting to see what benefit it brings where Tactical is concerned.

The PTSD diagnosis, annotated in her medical records, was addressed in our meeting – that particular topic having been initially broached by the Lieutenant, herself – and, as of this entry, we do not see cause to be overly concerned by it. Lt Tal, however, does seem to be of the opinion that said diagnosis is more than cause for scrutiny from Starfleet Command as well as a certain K’Tal, whom she referred to as her mentor. Despite the proficiency and promise documented in her record, the lieutenant displays a certain lack of self-confidence that, if left unchecked, may prove to be an issue. It is possible that this may simply be resultant of the length of time that she has been in active and, once she gets back into the day-to-day routine of being a line officer on a starship, her confidence will return. It is also my hope that Lt Tal will be the last officer we have in the CTO position for quite some time; we go weary of the turnover rate the Peregrine has experienced of late, particularly where department heads are concerned.

Speaking of which, now that Captain Drake has been returned to command, I feel we may, at last, have the time and opportunity to meet with and welcome aboard the other transfers who have come aboard in the past few days. There are quite a few and, as I have been the acting CO of this vessel in that span of time, we have been unable to tend to this task in the manner to which we have become accustomed. It is doubtful that I’ll be able to speak with all of them before we disconnect from Starbase 118 as that is schedule to happen in less than an hour and, I’m sure, Captain Drake will want me at the helm when we do. I do, however, hope to have all introductions and briefings completed well before Command levies us with a new assignment.=/\=

The log entry completed, Tochi tapped at the console once more and then leaned back in his seat, lifting the cup to his lips and draining away the remains of the tea. As the last of the vaguely cinnamon and clove flavored liquid was swallowed, he recalled the brief interaction he had had with his new helmsman…

Flashback – Bridge – 1056

“Commander Zai?”

At the sound of his name, Tochi glanced back over his shoulder, expecting a crewman or somesuch from engineering to be there, requesting him to sign off on yet another workorder from repair and refit. Instead, he was greeted by the grinning visage of a fresh-faced human kid garbed in the reds of Flight Control. Even as he rose from the seat at his console, the Trill’s mind shuffled through the transfer requests he had reviewed… Gardner, is it, he pondered as he got to his feet, No. That’s not quite right… too many letters… Gard… Garner… It’s Garner, right?

“Yes,” Tochi acknowledged, out of his seat now and eyeing the freshly pipped Ensign, “I’m Commander Zai.”

"Hi, er, hello, sir.  I just wanted to introduce myself."  The sandy haired kid said, juggling between trying to salute and shaking hands. "I'm Ens. Garner.  Bradley.  Brad- Ens. Bradley Garner sir. I'm your new Flight Control Officer."

For the fraction of a second, Tochi himself got caught up in the juggling act but, quickly, got control of the situation and caught the kid’s had as it waffled between salute and handshake, catching the young man’s hand in transition, clasping it firmly and holding it in place for an instant. “Welcome aboard, Ensign,” he said, a congenial if somewhat distracted smile on his lips.

“I just got on board an hour ago, my assignment said I'd be taking over for Ens. Thomason,” the kid prattled, “Just got it… that is my assignment, last night....Sir.”

“Right,” Tochi nodded, letting Garner’s hand go, “We’ve been expecting you.” A playfulness came to the Trill’s smile as he looked the kid over; “We certainly won’t have the problems fitting you at the CONN that we did with Thomason.”

Ens Garner looked a bit perplexed by that statement but recovered quickly. “Anyway,” the kid said, the puzzlement on his features quickly overwritten by a crooked smile, once more, “I don't mean to bother you when you're on duty and all, I just thought it'd be good to come up and put a face with a name.  I'm sure we'll talk lots later.  I'll let you get back to what you're doin'." He paused, "Sir."

“Very good, Ensign,” Zai grinned, “We appreciate your checking in. We’ll be talking with you, again, soon, I’m sure.”

Tochi watched as the kid turned away and sauntered back toward the turbolift. We imagine Megan is going to really like that one, he chuckled inwardly…

Present – XO’s Office – 1123

Again, Tochi glanced at his desk mounted chronograph, grinning at the memory of his first meeting with Ensign Bradley Garner… It might be pushing the limits of our timeframe, he mused, but what the frill!...

“Computer – Locate Ensign Garner.”

=/\=Ensign Garner is on Deck 4,=/\= the computer’s soothing voice responded, =/\=approaching Shuttlebay One.=/\=

Perfect, Zai thought, hauling himself out of his seat. “Computer; Issue an all hands call for Flight Control and Ops personnel not currently on station: ‘Rally at the Flight Control Office in 3 minutes.’”

=/\=Acknowledged,=/\= rejoined the computer as LCDR Zai returned his empty cup to the replicator and made for the door, =/\=Message transmitted. All flight control personnel requested in Flight Ops; 1126 Zulu.=/\=

Stardate 2365.02.19
USS Peregrine; Deck 4 – Shuttlebay 1 – 1125

“…aside from time in grade, the ensign has maintained a spotless service record, maintained or exceeded all qualifications, and has performed the duties of her station above and beyond expectation. I hereby submit this recommendation to promote Vaela P’Tammah to the rank of Lieutenant (Junior Grade).” As the turbolift door opened, Commander Zai tapped the PADD’s screen and sent the endorsement he had been recording through the proper channels.

Stepping of the lift and onto the flight deck, his gaze lifted from the screen and spotted Ensign Garner standing just a couple of meters away; the kid’s eyes skimming curiously over the cavernous shuttlebay. Tucking the PADD under one arm, Tochi grinned and closed the distance between himself and his new FCO. “Hello, again, Ens Garner,” the Trill said, coming up behind the young man, “Looking for the Flight Operations Office?”

((OOC: Assuming, at least, an affirmative&hellip)

“Right this way,” Zai nodded, gesturing toward the gangway that led up to the bay’s Operations and Observation mezzanine. “We see you’ve found your way here, easily enough,” the XO continued, leading the way up the steps, “Always a good start. We’re sure it won’t be long and you’ll be able to find your way around the ship blindfolded…”

USS Peregrine; Deck 4 – Shuttlebay 1; Flight Operations Office – 1126

“Any idea what this all hands is about, Master Chief,” Yas asked from his seat in one of the chairs that surrounded the office’s small conference table, “The Commander sounded a bit hurried.”

“I cannot say that I know for certain, Mr Yasuo,” the Vulcan standing stiffly at one end of the table replied flatly, “However, if I had to speculate, I would deduce that it likely has something to do with roster changes…”

“Joo,” SCPO Kukkonen grinned across the table at Petty Officer Owen, “and, perhaps, about how he keeps finding your hair all over the CONN, pieni.”

“Oh, you c’n jus’ go ‘head an’ shut up,” Megan shot back amidst the chorus of chuckles that erupted around the table, “I keep this mop bloody well contained when I’m onna bridge!” The spritely little woman offered up a giggle of her own as she gathered up her mass of curls and wrestled it into a ponytail. “I cannae b’lieve tha’ Tiny’s rotated out, a’ready. He weren’t with us but a week an’…”

=/\=Maybe he got tired of bumping his head on everything,=/\= Vaela interjected over the comm screen, her antennae faintly flicking in amusement, =/\=or having to grease himself in order to get through the hatchways.=/\=

Another round of snickering went around the table, at that, and had just begun to fade away when the door opened to admit Tochi and a young-looking, sandy-haired human wearing an ensign’s pip on his collar.

“…and this is what we have come to call the Flight Ops Office,” the Trill was explaining as he ushered the ensign in. His gaze swept the faces gathered around the table (and the blue one that appeared on the wall-mounted monitor) and he smiled faintly. “You’re all here,” he said as the door whispered shut behind the kid, “Good.”

“No place we’d rather be, Commander,” Megan chirruped, her bright gaze running over Garner for an instant, “Who’s this, then, sir?”

Tochi’s grin widened. The little shuttle-pilot’s enthusiasm was infectious as ever. “Well, Megan,” he beamed, resting a hand on the woman’s shoulder as he strode past, “that’s the purpose of this meeting, isn’t it?” He drew to a stop next to the stoic Vulcan standing at the head of the table, turned, and gestured toward the kid standing by the door; “Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce you to Ensign Bradley Garner; our newest Flight Control Officer.

Mr Garner, this is the USS Peregrine’s Flight Control Department,” Tochi continued, waving vaguely at the assemblage. “This rather stern looking fellow to my left,” Zai indicated the bronze-skinned Vulcan at his side, “is Master Chief V’lur; our chief flight systems specialist and, at any given moment, my eyes and ears in Flight Ops…”

“Ensign Garner,” V’lur nodded curtly, “Welcome aboard, sir.”

…Tochi indicated the Japanese man sitting on the far side of the table, next; “Chief Petty Officer Seto Yasuo; our other flight systems specialist…”

Chief Yasuo stood, smiled, and reached across the table to shake Garner’s hand. “Welcome aboard, sir,” he said, pumping the ensign’s hand, “Feel free to call me Yas.”

“Most all of us do,” Megan interjected.

“Thanks to you,” SCPO Kukkonen quipped, prompting the elfin red-head to poke her tongue out at him.

“…If there’s anything you need to know about any ship in the galaxy,” Commander Zai continued with a faintly amused shake of his head at Kook and Megan’s banter, “Yas is your man.

Next,” the Trill gestured to the burly, bearded man seated next to Yas, “Senior Chief Maarti Kukkonen…”

“Tervetuola, Ensign,” Maarti nodded, offering a friendly smile and a welcoming nod, “I suppose you’d better get accustomed to calling me Kook; Megan will have you doing it before long, anyway.”

“Well, b’cause ye are,” Megan teased, “an’ a big ol’ groombly bear, ‘s well!” Without waiting for the Commander to introduce her, the effervescent little woman bounced to her feet and thrust out a tiny hand. “Hullo, Ens Garner,” she squeaked, “I’mPettyOfficerOwen…Megan…MeganOwen.Mean’Kook’reshootlepilotsbutwedoaweebito’timeonnabridge’swell.Et’sgoodtaemeetye,sir.Efyeneedsomeonetaeshowyeaboot,jus’lemmeknow,sir!”

Across the table, Kook was chuckling at Garner’s first exposure to Megan’s rapid-fire verbosity; “You’ll get used to that.”

“Or you won’t,” V’Lur intoned.

Commander Zai simply shook his head and snickered. “In case you missed any of that, Mr Garner,” he offered, “that’s Petty Officer Megan Owen. She and Senior Chief Kukkonen are our primary shuttle pilots but both of them are certified for bridge duty and will be serving shifts at Helm. She’s very happy to meet you and would also be happy to show you around the ship, should you care for a guided tour.

Finally,” Zai said, motioning to the pale-blue face of the Andorian woman that appeared on the viewscreen, “Lie… er…” Tochi cleared his throat, smiled a bit sheepishly, then continued; “Ensign Vaela P’Tammah; our Assistant Chief Flight Control Officer. You may have seen her at the CONN when you were on the bridge just a bit ago.”

On the screen, Vaela’s expression morphed from curiously surprised to presenting a congenial smile as her gaze flitted from Zai to Garner. “Welcome aboard, Bradley,” she said softly, “I’m sure you and I will come to know each other fairly well. I understand we are to be sharing quarters.”

((OOC: Okay… cutting it off there in order to give crowe time and room to react/respond. Room for interjection/interruption/interrogation throughout, of course. Backposts and frontposts as needed.))

((OOC: Will backpost interaction with Reid))

Stardate 2365.02.19
USS Peregrine; Deck 4 – Shuttlebay 1 – 1125

Stormrider braced his elbows on the top of the fence keeping the horses in the stable yard.  Right right foot found it's way to the bottom rung. He moved the shoot of grass from one side to the other as he watched the magnificent beasts run.  There were strong one and fast ones, and they were all beautiful.  He couldn't wait to tame them all.

“Hello, again, Ens Garner,” the Trill said, coming up behind the young man, “Looking for the Flight Operations Office?”

"Hello Sir.  Just looking at the shuttles." Garner replied with an easy smile.

“Right this way,” Zai nodded, gesturing toward the gangway that led up to the bay’s Operations and Observation mezzanine. “We see you’ve found your way here, easily enough,” the XO continued, leading the way up the steps, “Always a good start. We’re sure it won’t be long and you’ll be able to find your way around the ship blindfolded…”

"Yeah, Reid was kind enough to give me a tour earlier." Garner said as he followed the XO.

The Desperado arrived on the scene.  With a nod the two men moseyed into the adjacent building that held the tack.  Noises could be heard inside.  Stormrider was to meet the rest of the man-in-black's posse.

Another round of snickering went around the table, at that, and had just begun to fade away when the door opened to admit Tochi and a young-looking, sandy-haired human wearing an ensign’s pip on his collar.

“…and this is what we have come to call the Flight Ops Office,” the Trill was explaining as he ushered the ensign in. His gaze swept the faces gathered around the table (and the blue one that appeared on the wall-mounted monitor) and he smiled faintly. “You’re all here,” he said as the door whispered shut behind the kid, “Good.”

“No place we’d rather be, Commander,” Megan chirruped, her bright gaze running over Garner for an instant, “Who’s this, then, sir?”

The little school marm was the first to approach.

Tochi’s grin widened. The little shuttle-pilot’s enthusiasm was infectious as ever. “Well, Megan,” he beamed, resting a hand on the woman’s shoulder as he strode past, “that’s the purpose of this meeting, isn’t it?” He drew to a stop next to the stoic Vulcan standing at the head of the table, turned, and gestured toward the kid standing by the door; “Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce you to Ensign Bradley Garner; our newest Flight Control Officer.

Garner lifted one hand to wave hello as he was being introduced. His smile broad as he looked around the room adding names to faces.

Mr Garner, this is the USS Peregrine’s Flight Control Department,” Tochi continued, waving vaguely at the assemblage. “This rather stern looking fellow to my left,” Zai indicated the bronze-skinned Vulcan at his side, “is Master Chief V’lur; our chief flight systems specialist and, at any given moment, my eyes and ears in Flight Ops…”

“Ensign Garner,” V’lur nodded curtly, “Welcome aboard, sir.”

Master Chief.

…Tochi indicated the Japanese man sitting on the far side of the table, next; “Chief Petty Officer Seto Yasuo; our other flight systems specialist…”

Chief Yasuo stood, smiled, and reached across the table to shake Garner’s hand. “Welcome aboard, sir,” he said, pumping the ensign’s hand, “Feel free to call me Yas.”

Chief.

“Most all of us do,” Megan interjected.

“Thanks to you,” SCPO Kukkonen quipped, prompting the elfin red-head to poke her tongue out at him.

“…If there’s anything you need to know about any ship in the galaxy,” Commander Zai continued with a faintly amused shake of his head at Kook and Megan’s banter, “Yas is your man.

Next,” the Trill gestured to the burly, bearded man seated next to Yas, “Senior Chief Maarti Kukkonen…”

“Tervetuola, Ensign,” Maarti nodded, offering a friendly smile and a welcoming nod, “I suppose you’d better get accustomed to calling me Kook; Megan will have you doing it before long, anyway.”

Senior Chief.  Three Chiefs.

Stormrider's gaze next went to the three savages standing in the room.  Their feathered headdresses and buckskin clothing a counterpoint the the dud's the rest of the posse wore.  The tall one with the pointed ears and most elaborate head dress lifted his hand in the traditional greeting of his people.  His face grim, Stormrider was new around these parts.  Then the smallest one with the single feather in his hair, and finally the meaty one with the beard.  Stormrider eyed the three men as they eyed him back.  

“Well, b’cause ye are,” Megan teased, “an’ a big ol’ groombly bear, ‘s well!” Without waiting for the Commander to introduce her, the effervescent little woman bounced to her feet and thrust out a tiny hand. “Hullo, Ens Garner,” she squeaked, “I’mPettyOfficerOwen…Megan…MeganOwen.Mean’Kook’reshootlepilotsbutwedoaweebito’timeonnabridge’swell.Et’sgoodtaemeetye,sir.Efyeneedsomeonetaeshowyeaboot,jus’lemmeknow,sir!”

No, not school marm. The little red head lost the bonnet and bustle, and she too was in cowboy dud's. Her cowboy hat pushed back to form a halo around her head, both her hands resting on the grip of the two revolves in her gun belt.  Stormrider could tell how fast she was by the way she carried herself. She looked at him, a half smile forming on her lips, she looked away and then back.  Stormrider looked at her, then lifted his hat with one hand and smoothed his hair back with the other.  He looked down at his boots, then back up at her.  A smile was forming on his face as well.

"Something something something" People were talking,"...should you care for a guided tour."

"Yes!" Garner almost said, but let the XO carry on with the introductions as he refocused his attention.

"Finally,” Zai said, motioning to the pale-blue face of the Andorian woman that appeared on the viewscreen, “Lie… er…” Tochi cleared his throat, smiled a bit sheepishly, then continued; “Ensign Vaela P’Tammah; our Assistant Chief Flight Control Officer. You may have seen her at the CONN when you were on the bridge just a bit ago.”

On the screen, Vaela’s expression morphed from curiously surprised to presenting a congenial smile as her gaze flitted from Zai to Garner. “Welcome aboard, Bradley,” she said softly, “I’m sure you and I will come to know each other fairly well. I understand we are to be sharing quarters.”

Outside? Framed by the window? How does that work? Garner thought.  

The blue skinned woman's red vest contrasted nicely, her stetson hung by the chin strap, coming to rest on her shoulders, but Stormrider's eyes were drawn to the bullwhip she was running through her fingers.  He could tell that this broncobuster was the Desperado's right hand man.  

"Good to meet you...rommie..." Garner hated how awkward all his first impressions seemed to be. Turning to look around the room, "Good to meet everyone really, I'm looking forward to working with all of you." He tried desperately not to let his eyes linger too long on any particular person, any particular person at all. "Don't know if Commader Zai said anything about me before today, but I'm fresh out of the academy.  I'm talkin' fresh. So I'm here to learn, can't wait for y'all to show me the ropes.  Each ship has her own culture, and I'm looking forward to learnin' th' Peregrine's.  From what I can see the flight deck looks tip top, and all the shuttles are in good repair.  Love a tour a little later when Commander Zai here's done with us." Garner gestured to the XO steering the conversation back.

Stardate 2365.02.19

Starbase 118, Guest Quarters  – 1150 hours

((OOC: Posting a little ahead, time-wise, of the current postings, so Drake, Tochi, whoever they might wrangle, etc., can pursue current interactions, then perhaps meet Eric in transporter room when he arrives. Thought it’d be fun to RP a little reunion of sorts there.))

Lieutenant Commander Eric Thorson took one last look around his temporary billet aboard Starbase 118, making sure he hadn’t forgotten anything. He stepped over to the coffee table and grabbed his PADD, currently displaying various engineering articles and reports he’d been reading over, as well as the last few days’ departmental reports from Engineering on the Peregrine, put it to sleep and slid it into a side pocket of his duffel. For the hundredth time today, he looked down at his cybernetic arm and flexed it, eyeing it critically as he turned it over and examined it.

The doctors here on the starbase had performed every test and procedure they knew to perform to insure that his cybernetics were purged of…whatever had happened to them. Eric could only remember brief flashes of that horrible episode in Engineering, almost killing poor Toporov, destroying equipment, becoming a mindless beast in frenzy. But he remembered all too well the feeling of utter helplessness and lack of control, the feeling of being a screaming, silent prisoner as he thrashed about. And despite what the doctors had tried to tell him, even the cybernetics specialists who had travelled all the way from Starfleet Medical on Earth, he had felt some other…presence…in control at the time. It wasn’t some random malfunction or misfiring of his synaptic control interfaces; Eric felt, to the core of his being, that what it seemed like… was a mind, a sentient mind, awakened within a shell that was unknown and unfamiliar to it, and that it…panicked. It screamed out in terror with every atom of its being, every impulse it possessed. That terror and panic manifested itself in the seizure that crushed Eric in its grip. This was what Eric felt, and what he believed to be true, but every cyberneticist, doctor and counselor he had spoken with assured him that this was simply his mind’s attempt to interpret the brief contact with the alien power surge back on the Peregrine. They swore with complete certainty that nothing had entered or infected him in the incident. But iIf Eric had learned nothing else in his time in Starfleet, especially serving on ships like the Stargazer under Jean-Luc Picard, he had learned that nothing was certain. But he also still held to the Norse beliefs of his ancestors, and he knew in his heart that if there were more to his encounter with the alien lifeform than was now known, then it was the will of the gods, and the gods made their reasons known in their own time. The answers would come.

Focusing once again on the present, Eric lifted his duffel and walked to the door. “Computer, lights off.” The room’s lights winked out as Eric stepped out into the corridor and made his way to the transporter room, the door to his former quarters hissing shut behind him.

((OOC: Pausing here in case Drake or Tochi or whomever wanted to meet Eric in the transporter room upon his return. If any takers, just post your arrival to the transporter room and then I will continue, if that works for all.))

Stardate 2365.02.19
USS Peregrine; Deck 1 – Captain's Ready Room 13:15

Unpacking had taken little time, as Silas had packed rather lightly in preparation for a lengthy Court Martial and negative outcome that never materialized.  In his heart, he was still a bit giddy, and couldn't quite shake it.  It had seemed that all of the power of politics was arrayed against him, yet somehow, he had come through the other side smelling like a rose.

And then, his PADD had flared with a message from an anonymous sender.  The content was simple enough, an innocuous notification that a colleague had retired from active duty.  Of course, the fact that the colleague was Captain Joshua Jacobs had been enough to cause Silas to laugh out loud in the privacy of his own cabin.  Yes, the dog had managed to avoid prosecution due to his connections, but Starfleet couldn't countenance his continued service after the truth that had come to the light (despite the man's best efforts, it might seem), and Jacobs had taken an early retirement in what was surely an off the record deal.  Maybe it wasn't true justice, but it was so much more than Silas had ever dared to dream of, it felt like a victory for sure.

After emptying his duffels, Drake moved to the Ready Room, intent on returning the Golden Hind to her correct location on the wall, when news of the delay had come.  Exasperated, he blew out his breath and grabbed a PADD, intent on reading up on the personnel changes before he met any of the new department heads.

As he read Silas felt an ache or worry begin to grow in the pit of his stomach.  Once he reached the end of the current file, he got up and paced around the room for a few minutes. 

Stop that, he could almost hear Michelle tell him.  Worrying over it won't solve anything. 

While the imagined advice was of course accurate, it wasn't so easy to wave that concern away.  Even with the slight reduction in crew compliment, Drake will still responsible for better than sixty souls.  Once again, it seemed that Starfleet command was bound and determined to put all of the problem cases under one roof - his roof, to be precise.  Perhaps the idea was to lump them together, so as to minimize the potential damage they could do? 

With a heavy sigh, Drake keyed the communicator.  "Captain Drake to Lieutenant Tal.  Lieutenant, pleae report to my Ready Room.  Drake out."

With the summons given, Silas sat back down to wait.  He would handle this like he handled all potential issues - directly.

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

OOC: I am assuming that Tal will report as ordered.  If this is a problem, let me know and we will edit.

The hatch whooshed open to admit a tall, muscular woman who moved like a predator.  She snapped smartly to attention and offered a salute as she introduced herself, which Drake returned.  "At ease, Lieutenant - take a seat, please," he responded in as friendly a tone as he could muster.

"I see that you have been on board a few days; my apologies for not having met you before now, but I was unavoidably detained," he spoke dryly.  Judging from the gaggle of reporters on Starbase 118 and the fact that he couldn't seem to find a holovid without his face on it, Silas was fairly certain that everyone knew well of his trial.  Better to embrace that than to avoid it.

OOC: any response, or none at all

"First off, Lieutenant, I want to welcome you aboard the Peregrine.  I have taken the opportunity to review your jacket, and I must say - it certainly feels like this could potentially be a mutual fit.  You are a woman of action, I see... and this is a warship where your talents will be appreciated.  There are some impressive entries in your file, of that there is no doubt."

Silas paused for a moment, hating the things he was about to say.  "With that said, I would be remiss if I failed to share my concerns.  I believe in being honest and forthright, and I expect the same from my officers."

A moment's hesitation more, and Drake dove right in.  "Lieutenant, you have been through trauma that I won't pretend to be able to imagine, and I appreciate that you have made it through to the other side.  Yet, you were clearly not unscathed.  I see that you have been on medical sabbatical for two years, and that we are your first assignment after that.  I see the diagnoses, and I appreciate how hard you must have worked to reach this point.  And yet..." his voice trailed off as Silas attempted to avoid sounding like an attacker. 

"As I stated, Lieutenant, this is no medical vessel, no diplomatic ship.  We are a warship, and we spend a great deal of our time on the fringes of Federation space.  There are no small number of sentients that bear us ill will, and the time will come - it is a question of 'when', not 'if' - that you will be required to face violence with violence.  When that moment comes, I must be able to trust implicitly that there will be no hesitation, no lack of decisiveness.  I need to know that you will act, that I can count on you.  There are sixty-five souls on this ship entrusted to me, and when that times comes, they are entrusted to you.  So be certain before you answer, Lieutenant - can you handle this?  Are you truly ready?"

OOC: a chance to explain

Silas nodded.  "I will take you at your word, Lieutenant, and trust that you are right."  The Captain stood and offered his hand.  "Again, I want to welcome you aboard the Peregrine.  I look forward to serving with you."  Salutes were exchanged.

"Dismissed," Drake spoke. 

As Tal left, Silas shook his head.  He would take her at her word - but for the benedfit of all, he would also keep an eye open. 

((OOC: she will, she's not one to shirk orders. And her kittens (Forb and Saril) are all squared away.))

The hatch whooshed open to admit a tall, muscular woman who moved like a predator.  She snapped smartly to attention and offered a salute as she introduced herself, which Drake returned.  "At ease, Lieutenant - take a seat, please," he responded in as friendly a tone as he could muster.

"I see that you have been on board a few days; my apologies for not having met you before now, but I was unavoidably detained," he spoke dryly.  Judging from the gaggle of reporters on Starbase 118 and the fact that he couldn't seem to find a holovid without his face on it, Silas was fairly certain that everyone knew well of his trial.  Better to embrace that than to avoid it.

"Sir, certainly sir. Sir, speaking frankly, you had an important duty to attend to. I've heard a small bit about it, but all I need to know is that the Tribunal cleared you and found who's actually at fault. That is all I need to know to serve under your command, sir."

"First off, Lieutenant, I want to welcome you aboard the Peregrine.  I have taken the opportunity to review your jacket, and I must say - it certainly feels like this could potentially be a mutual fit.  You are a woman of action, I see... and this is a warship where your talents will be appreciated.  There are some impressive entries in your file, of that there is no doubt."

Silas paused for a moment, hating the things he was about to say.  "With that said, I would be remiss if I failed to share my concerns.  I believe in being honest and forthright, and I expect the same from my officers."

A moment's hesitation more, and Drake dove right in.  "Lieutenant, you have been through trauma that I won't pretend to be able to imagine, and I appreciate that you have made it through to the other side.  Yet, you were clearly not unscathed.  I see that you have been on medical sabbatical for two years, and that we are your first assignment after that.  I see the diagnoses, and I appreciate how hard you must have worked to reach this point.  And yet..." his voice trailed off as Silas attempted to avoid sounding like an attacker.  

"As I stated, Lieutenant, this is no medical vessel, no diplomatic ship.  We are a warship, and we spend a great deal of our time on the fringes of Federation space.  There are no small number of sentients that bear us ill will, and the time will come - it is a question of 'when', not 'if' - that you will be required to face violence with violence.  When that moment comes, I must be able to trust implicitly that there will be no hesitation, no lack of decisiveness.  I need to know that you will act, that I can count on you.  There are sixty-five souls on this ship entrusted to me, and when that times comes, they are entrusted to you.  So be certain before you answer, Lieutenant - can you handle this?  Are you truly ready?"

She waved her hand as if to dismiss the negative feelings he felt about what he was saying. "Sir, while I prefer to act without violence where possible, I'm still... capable, sir." She nods and continues confidently, "Sir, I feel that I'm more than ready. I'm already starting to shed the nerves I had coming aboard. I won't fail my crew again. I will protect you and everyone under your command." She inhales through her nose, "You have good cause to worry, given what I've been through and how long I've been on leave, so all I can ask is that you trust in my recovery. I won't lie and say it's not something I still deal with, but given what I learned on Vulcan, I'm in control, not my disorder. I will serve as needed, and I daresay that I will do my best to exceed your best expectations, sir."

Silas nodded.  "I will take you at your word, Lieutenant, and trust that you are right."  The Captain stood and offered his hand.  "Again, I want to welcome you aboard the Peregrine.  I look forward to serving with you."  Salutes were exchanged.

"Dismissed," Drake spoke.  

As Tal left, Silas shook his head.  He would take her at her word - but for the benedfit of all, he would also keep an eye open.