Stardate: 2368.04.10
USS Discovery - Forward Torpedo Launch Bay, Deck 25 – 0810


Having narrowly avoided the Engineering Ensign who had just practically skipped out into the corridor, Lt MacTavish was still scowling as the doors to the Forward Bay whooshed away before him. “High grav’ty world, my arse,” he growled in response to Mueller’s defense of the man’s bouncy step, “th’ lad’s fargin’ human as yew are an’ ‘e was skippin’! Next theng ye know, there’ll be a bloody May-pole onna Bridge!”

“Maybe, Mac,” Mueller snickered, “all I was saying, though, is that there’s nothing wrong with being enthused about…”

“Shaddap, Jeffery!”

“Shutting up, Boss.”

Been tied tae th’ blinkin’ Starbase fer too long, MacTavish fumed as he spied Lt Cmdr Kennedy half-buried in one of the new torpedoes, Too much free time an’ no’ enough wairk tae keep people from prancin’ aboot like wee blinkin’ faeries!
As Mac drew nearer, it was easy to tell that the CEO had her music turned up and was, so far, oblivious to the fact he and Mueller had entered – the occasional lyric half-sung under her breath, the random dip of a knee or tapping of a foot as a guitar riff or some other ‘clatter-bang’ noise wailed in her ear… Jus’ as she was inna Academy, the TAC Officer mused, prob’ly fondlin’ th’ circuits, ’s well…

As if to confirm his suspicions, he heard Callie draw in a long, slow, almost ecstatic breath and, as her face came into view, he could see her smiling that blissful smile that she always got when she ‘appreciated’ fine engineering. One corner of his mouth quirked up in the beginnings of an amused grin as he drew up just short of her; “Commander Kennedy?”

The blissful smile on Kennedy’s face morphed into one of mild embarrassment in the half-second of fumbling she had in reaction to his voice and her cheeks flushed a bit, too, as she looked up at him, clearing her throat as she motioned him closer. “Mac,” she grinned somewhat sheepishly, “well, as I said, I got her open. Want to take a look?”

“Aye,” Mac smirked, a fairly mirthful spark in his eye as he approached, “unless we’d be int’ruptin’ er sommat. Lt Mueller an’ meself c’n come back en a wee bit ef th’ two of ye’d like tae be alone.”

((OOC: Like I have to prompt for a response… ))

The CTO almost allowed a chuckle to escape as he came to a stop next to his old Academy friend and joined her in surveying the components inside the casing of the Type 6. “Fer th’ luv o’ heather an’ haggis,” he nodded as his gaze swept from the sustainer engine modules installed at the rear of the casing and tracked each components connection to the guidance processors and detonator modules just forward of the cryogenically stabilized reactants of the warhead, “tha’s a theng o’ beauty.

We’ve received a full loadout o’ these, aye?”

Stardate: 2368.04.10
Cmdr. Kennedy - Forward Photon Torpedo Launch Bay 0810
“Aye,” Mac smirked, a fairly mirthful spark in his eye as he approached, “unless we’d be int’ruptin’ er sommat. Lt Mueller an’ meself c’n come back en a wee bit ef th’ two of ye’d like tae be alone.”

Kennedy’s fingers twitch over the circuits, desperately wanting to flash one of them in particular at him, but she’s in her pretty gold and black and so instead she clenches her hand and throws him a grin. “Nah… I got a bottle of champagne cooling in my quarters that I’m gonna bring back later tonight when I won’t have to worry about you interrupting. Just don’t paw at her… got it?”

The CTO almost allowed a chuckle to escape as he came to a stop next to his old Academy friend and joined her in surveying the components inside the casing of the Type 6.
He isn’t the only one. The other two golden boys in the room glance at each other, smirk and then tighten their mouths before turning away and trying to get back to work without anyone taking notice of them.
“Fer th’ luv o’ heather an’ haggis,” he nodded as his gaze swept from the sustainer engine modules installed at the rear of the casing and tracked each components connection to the guidance processors and detonator modules just forward of the cryogenically stabilized reactants of the warhead, “tha’s a theng o’ beauty.

We’ve received a full loadout o’ these, aye?”

“Yeah. We’re replacing every single warhead, hopefully I can get it all done before we are due to head out. You run into Warsong…” she pauses, “Warhammer… War… War-something-or-other on the way out? My new Ensign…” She rolls her eyes a moment. “I’ve tasked him with doing our briefing.”

And then as an afterthought, “Oh… and for the record… I’d prefer it if your trigger happy little fingers were busy keeping us out of danger instead of having to use one of these. I know you got some built up tension right now, but don’t let my ship get hurt because you miss kissing your little bonny lass… got me? If you’re good maybe I’ll talk the captain into letting you fire one at some space trash.”

Don’t make fun of me and my torpedo, I know where to hit back Jack… she thought to herself as she flashes him a grin.

Stardate: 04.10.2368
USS Discovery - Forward Torpedo Bay – 0813

“Yeah,” Kennedy responded to his question about the loadout, “We’re replacing every single warhead. Hopefully I can get it all done before we are due to head out.”

“I’ve got some ‘ands I c’n lend ye if ye find yerself taxed, Commander,” Jack offered, nodding at her assessment before glancing over his shoulder at Mueller.

“Lieutenant.”

“Ping Ascencio and have her get a detail together,” Jeff said, the CTOs unspoken request already interpreted, “On it, Mac.” The aCTO turned on his heel, then, and tapped his combadge as he jandered towards the portal. By the time he stepped out into the corridor he had passed the orders to Mac’s acting TAC/ENG Liaison, PO1 Angel Asencio, and had been assured by the woman that a detail of torpedo support personnel would be available to Commander Kennedy within the half-hour.

((OOC: Probably about 5 to 10 “support specialists” available to you, Commander… use them as you will. ))

“You run into, Warsong,” Kennedy asked as Mueller ambled out, “Warhammer…War… War-something-or-other on the way out? My new Ensign…”

“Ye mean Ensign Skippy,” Mac replied, being able to only recall passing the one engineering ensign, “Aye.”

Kennedy rolled her eyes; “I’ve tasked him with doing out briefing.”

“Grand,” MacTavish smirked around the rim of his coffee cup, “I s’pose ‘s long as the lad does no’ break oot inta song er dance Flight o’ the Bumblebee, I’ll no’ quibble. I’ve told me lads tae expect tha’ briefin’ by no later than ten-hundr’d hours.”

Satisfied that the type 6 was going to be all it had been advertised to be, he turned to leave without another word. He had begun to think he would make it all the way back to deck 8 without her exacting a little retribution for having harped on her about fondling the torpedo…

“Oh… and for the record…” Callie called before he was within half a dozen steps of the doorway, “I’d prefer it if your trigger happy little fingers were busy keeping us out of danger instead of having to use one of these. I know you got some built up tension right now, but don’t let my ship get hurt because you miss kissing your little bonny lass… got me? If you’re good maybe I’ll talk the captain into letting you fire one at some space trash.”

The TAC officer didn’t so much as look back. He did, however, let a grin form on his lips and raised a hand in some semblance of a wave as he disappeared into the corridor; “Aye, sair.”

Stardate: 2368.04.10
USS Discovery - Deck 5, CSO Office - 0730
"Computer, bring up the data and specifications regarding the Xi Probe." Rena said to her console.

Within a moment, the computer brought up the file, and she began reading it again, as sceptical as she had been when she first read it.

According to Professor Quon's hypothesis, the datron, a subatomic particle that has never been proven to exist, could be actually found. Xi wave emission spectra received from various elements, particularly heavier and radioactive elements, suggest that datrons exist in higher quantities in heavier atomic masses. The Xi Probe then is fitted with both an emitter and a sensor relay.

The probe has a casing made up of refined carbon. It will not hold under heavy planetary pressure, much less atmospheric entry, but casings made of metal or other materials would be more prone to interfere with its emitter and sensor array.
The rest of the data concerned more of the technical details of the internal mechanisms of the probe, and was of little use to Rena, but she contemplated carefully.

"Computer, compile a list of summaries on the theories regarding datrons, as well as theorized elements containing a high proportion of them."

=/\\=Compilation complete.=/\\=

That was unusually fast. Rena thought, before she continued reading. She was quickly disappointed at the result, which was nothing more than a short list, likely due to the lack of substance behind the datron theories.

Datrons
-Believed to provide more stability to heavy atoms than neutrons can provide
-They are likely uncharged, or otherwise would be affected by magnetic separation of atoms
-It is likely that although they provide stability, the normal instability of heavy atoms would indicate that if the stability were jeopardized, an immense amount of energy would be released - this could potentially be harnessed as a fuel source
-The most probable source of datrons is the theorized element of darkium, believed to be a stable, but heavy atom in the same family as carbon, named as such because it is believed to be located within concentrated dark matter clusters
Rena thought for a moment. An otherwise radioactive element that could be stored safely and have its energy harnessed when needed... that would be a considerable energy source and 'battery'... or even... possibly a weapon. Rena bit her lip. She didn't like that thought, but put it out of her mind for the moment.

How are we supposed to test this probe if it's supposed to be used to find something we know very little about? She wondered, Furthermore, heavy radioactive elements are not so easily contained... Lieutenant Foreman is skilled with electromagnetic fields, but the kind of force field we need to contain alpha, beta, and gamma radiation would probably require a large amount of energy, and could possibly put a strain on the generators, especially if other systems are running. There would still be a safety hazard, however, which suggests that testing should be isolated. Yet, I'm uncertain that a shuttle would provide sufficient resources for that test. We may have to indefinitely postpone internal testing for a field test...
Rena checked the time. It was getting close to 0800, but she had a bit of time left. She tapped her com-badge.

"Lt. Leiran to Ensign Bradley."

There was a brief pause, before the reply came.

=/\\=Dev here, I presume you're checking in for status?=/\\=

"That's right; anything going on over at the bridge?" Rena asked.

=/\\=Nothing to report, Lieutenant. Everything's pretty quiet up here.=/\\= Dev replied, although she couldn't completely hide the bored tone from his voice.

Rena chuckled, "Don't worry, we're only going to be moored for a couple more days, if all goes according to schedule."

=/\\=It'll be good to get underway again.=/\\= Dev agreed, =/\\=Um, was that all, Lieutenant?=/\\=

"Yes, thank you." Rena replied, before ending the communication.

"Time to head down to Lab D." She murmured, before leaving her office...

Stardate: 2368.04.10
USS Discovery holodeck 3- 0900
After finishing his homework John considered the best way to give his report. On his last ship he usually preferred giving reports on the holodeck. He figured that the visual and tactile stimulants gave a more accurate and informative briefing. That and he liked the theatrics of it. However, this wasn’t his old ship and he wondered how well such a tactic would be received. Only one way o find out. He thought to himself as he made his way to holodeck 3. Let’s see I’ll want a demonstration of it’s range and three of the yields. John considered as he typed his desires into the holodeck programming. I suppose I should do a demonstration of yield 1, yield 10, and yield 16. I should also give a demonstration of the result of yield 16 too close to the ship and of the results of matching the frequencies of ships shields.
“Now with that done I might as well work on the other issue. Computer locate Chief McCall.” John said aloud.
=/\\\\=Chief McCall is in Ten-Forward.=/\\\\=
“Thank you” John said entering the turbo lift. “Deck 10” When the lift reopened John had to check himself before he ran over two enlisted. Stepping out of the turbo lift a little slower John headed to Ten-Forward. After entering Ten-Forward John noted that it was practically empty. Not surprising considering it’s the start of a shift. Night Watch is probably getting ready to sleep. Locating Chief McCall was extremely easy, and would have been even if Ten-Forward was crowded.”

“Stupid F**ing replicator. There’s nothing wrong with it, yet the cocoa isn’t changing.” Chief McCall said after sampling her tenth cup of half drank cocoa.

“Ensign John Warwick reporting.” Ensign Warwick said as he cautiously approached the table.

“Oh, Hi! Sorry about that its not been the best day.” Chief McCall said as she started blushing. “I’m Engineering Chief Tanyi McCall. But you can call me Tanyi as long as it’s not in front of Cmmdr. Kennedy.” She winked as she said this last bit. “Reporting…Ok go ahead.”

“I’ve finished my report on the new torpedoes and now I’m told you have a cocoa crisis.” John said smiling. I like this chief. he thought to himself.

“Ugh! Yes!” Chief McCall. Tanyi John reminded himself. “We’ve gotten reports that the replicator is making the cocoa too bitter. And as you can see I haven’t located the problem. But if I continue working on it I’ll lose my girlish figure not to mention fall behind on the half dozen other stuff I continuously need to get done. So I leave this project to you.” Chief McCall turned heel and half ran out of Ten-Forward. Replicators are relatively easy equipment. John considered the problem. Surely a senior chief engineer would have no problem working on its circuitry. Which would imply that the problem isn’t in the wiring at all but the programming. John pulled up the program for hot cocoa. It was a recipe made from a Lt. Hemlos. The entire recipe requried lots of whip cream and marshmellows which would add a lot of sugar and to counterbalance this the cocoa itself had relatively no sugar. Which is the problem. Cocoa is bitter but people don’t realize this. John thought as he began inserting a new recipe program. Probably because they had nicer dad’s than me and were never tricked into the “try it’s chocolate” thing. John moved Lt. Hemlos’ recipe into a separate file making a note for whoever ordered Hot Cocoa that the computer now used a new recipe as the standard and the old recipe could be accessed under Hemlos’ Cocoa.

“Cocoa Hot.” John told the replicator.
=/\\\\=Please be advised that a new recipe has been configured for the norm the old recipe is under Hemlos Cocoa.=/\\\\= The Computer advised John as he knew it would. Someone’ll have to turn the notification off after a week or so. John took the cup of Cocoa and took a sip. Ugh why’d it have to be Cocoa? I hate chocolate. John had hated chocolate ever since he had been a child and his father had replicated some Hershey’s cooking chocolate for a cake he was cooking. His dad had told John to try it insisting that it was chocolate. Not that he lied to me John thought Technically it was chocolate just unsweetened chocolate. This however isn‘t really too bad. John had to admit too himself. And with two tablespoons of sugar and a sweetened chocolate it shouldn’t be. John finished his cup and headed to engineering. Maybe now I’ll be able to look at the tweaks they’ve made to the Warp Drive. John thought happily.

Stardate: 2368.04.10
USS Discovery - Deck 3, Room 4 - 730

'Finally able to work!'

Ensign Sheila 'Kate' McIrish sat up in her bed and hurriedly dressed, switching the long blue 'Save the Wales!' shirt for her standard uniform. She stopped in front of the mirror and observed herself: her cheekbones were prominent, her nose pert and slightly tilted up, her chin small, but sharp. Her eyes, vividly green and distinctly feline, showed no signs of unusual redness. Her fair skin was flawless, and her wavy red hair only required a few strokes of her brush to be tamed.

'My first day!'

Had it not been for an unfortunate stomach ache, she would have reported yesterday after her arrival. However, she had managed to sneak away and decorate her new quarters before suddenly feeling sharp pains in her stomach and having to lay down, hiding from the rest of the crew until she was able to work.

But that was all over now.

Kate left her quarters and hurried to the lift, heading to Deck 5. She walked slowly, savoring the excitement bundled up inside her and headed for her commanding officer's, Rena Leiren's, office.

Kate stopped at the door and requested entrance.

OOC: Assuming Rena allows her in

Kate entered the room, a bright smile on her face. "Ensign Kate McIrish, reporting for duty." She saluted in the standard Starfleet way.

Stardate: 2368.04.10
USS Discovery, Lt. Royal's Quarters - 0730
Clint Royal pressed the red glow, eating away the last taste of tobacco before burning the filter, into the glass tray on his end table. The crumpled centimeter of cigarette joined the thicket of other crushed tubes tumbled and tossed, standing in circles and slanting over each other, the small soldiers and their makeshift graveyard.

As he let the funnels of smoke flow from his nose, Clint rose slowly, smiling with satisfaction. He stood solitarily, still sporting solely his underwear, tight briefs that had the american flag around both sides. Clint held his breath briefly, allowing the electricity of action course through him for his short, silent moments before the day.

The last succor of his cigarette spent itself out as Clint considered the luck that had landed him the illegal leisure of an occasional smoke in his quarters. The silent smoke alarm was born from luck of a liquid form, and it came in shots or on the rocks. That and Commander Kennedy’s engineering finesse. A well advised force field was all he’d needed to save him from a ringing bell and a reprimanding.

Cabin fever had caught Clint just after his cigarette situation had cleared itself up. Clint, crazy enough in top form, had shut down and turned silent when faced with the dreary display of the same shift day after day and the same stars night after night. Looking on it now, Clint had neglected every other crew member on the ship, responding only with the bare minimum ever required of him. It wasn’t a concern for the feelings of others but Clint didn’t like the idea of gaining a reputation for the quiet closed type and, more importantly, he didn’t like the idea of unfinished business.

Just after the force field had found itself in fine form, Clint had receded from view, cutting off all unnecessary communication and disregarding the gratitude he aught to have expressed. Clint didn't like being to blame for a broken friendship and he knew uncleared debts and undelivered thanks were sure path to a bitter relationship. Locked on to the damn Starbase, like umbilical chains, hadn't done much for Royal's attitude but, he thought, it was time he paid what he owed and admitted his mistake.

Commander Kennedy would just be heading off to work, perhaps he could slip in a quick thank you before she ended up wired up in Engineering. Besides, he himself had to find his way down to Main Bridge. As he dug through the clothes on the floor in search of his uniform, he tapped his combadge, "Royal to Commander Kennedy." His thick Texan accent let the words loll out slowly, like honey. Clint had intended on showing an honest display of gratitude but when the connection was made he couldn’t help but letting the jester within, which had been waiting to rear its ‘rowdy’ head, out for a stroll. He smiled broadly as his madness emerged and stretched its cramped bones, Clint was back.

"Well hello Miss Frisco Bay, how are you this morning?" Clint grinned to himself, knowing the murderous thoughts he was working up inside Commander Kennedy's mind.

Before she could squeeze a word in, his charming and charismatic voice, dancing between a Texan sweetness and a sharp firmness, bounded on, "Rowdy here, jus’ wanted to let you know how grateful I am to be enjoyin one’a my faithful American Spirits out on the USS. Disocovery. Me and my little soldiers would be estranged if it weren't for you Commander and I truly can't thank you enough for showing me how to sneak in a little secret time with those boys. Don't mean to be tying you up but I thought you might want a mental picture’a me and me little lads suckin’ face all night long. That said, if there's anythin you want in return just pass it down the grapevine sweetheart." Clint's playful smirk was spreading across his whole face and lit up every word. Before he terminated the discussion, Clint couldn’t help but add a serious addendum, the reason he had truly made contact, "I mean that Commander. I'm truly grateful and if there’s anythin’ I can do you for, you got an ace up your sleeve or, as I like to say, a rowdy little Texan on your main bridge." Royal did not forget about debts and if he owed somebody he would make sure he paid them back in full, perhaps with a little extra to keep smiles on everybody’s faces.

(OOC: assuming she responds and perhaps after a little more brief discussion - this can be edited in after Meri posts her reply, I hope Clint is alive by the end of page two )

Clint finished pulling on his uniform. He sighed and straightened himself out. He knew well enough that he could stretch up and expand himself just right so that it was a giant people saw, and not the 5'8" young adult. The Helmsman smiled, glancing over at his pack of cigarettes, "As much as I'd love to lock lips again boys, I'm off to work, hope you can hold down the fort in the meantime." He winked silently to the tiny carton, another one of his energetic grins spreading across his face. Now, off to the Main Bridge for more fun.
-Dragonblood

Stardate: 2368.04.10
USS Discovery - Cmdr. Kennedy’s Quarters – 0730
I just hope that those torpedos work like Federation says they will. If we get into a situation where we need them and we end up spraying a bird of prey with cocoa instead of 16 levels of whoop *** I’m going to kill someone.
Kennedy shoved up from her chair, setting down the coffee only half drunk. She was about to exchange the red boxers with the skull and crossbones stitched onto the backside of them and the black ‘A’ cut tanktop for her uniform when the combadge on her dresser buzzed.

"Royal to Commander Kennedy." A thick honeyed Texan accent rolling out of it.

Kennedy paused, furrowed her brow and walked over to the dresser.

It isn’t even 0800 yet, and we are in space dock. What on earth could our helmsman possibly need from me? She had just started to contemplate the absurdity of that phrase ‘what on earth’ when Royal’s voice once more called out to her and she furrowed her brow when she realized she had been too busy thinking about what he could need to actually answer him properly.

"Well hello Miss Frisco Bay, how are you this morning?" No doubt that as the com link opens the heavy pounding of drums and guitar’s filters through to his room.
At that though she opened her mouth to vomit back a reprimand when he cut her short. The color rising in her cheeks as he did.

"Rowdy here, jus’ wanted to let you know how grateful I am to be enjoyin one’a my faithful American Spirits out on the USS. Disocovery. Me and my little soldiers-”

Soldiers? What on earth!? She ran her hand through her short hair as that same absurd phrase rang in her head and she tried to figure out what Rowdy was talking about.

“- would be estranged if it weren't for you Commander and I truly can't thank you enough for showing me how to sneak in a little secret time with those boys.”

Boys… soldiers, sneaking in time, does he have a boyfriend? And what does that have to do with me? And then it struck her, last week, one too many whiskey’s in the lounge… His damned smokes… there truly is something loose in that boy’s head! She sighed

“Don't mean to be tying you up but I thought you might want a mental picture’a me and me little lads suckin’ face all night long.”

And for a moment she did just that, seeing the Texan’s rugged features in the dim cabin light, surrounded by smoke, in a pair of clean white boxers… she shook her head. Bloody Texans!
“That said, if there's anythin you want in return just pass it down the grapevine sweetheart." And she could hear the grin in his every word. Before he terminated the discussion, Clint couldn’t help but add a serious addendum, the reason he had truly made contact, "I mean that Commander. I'm truly grateful and if there’s anythin’ I can do you for, you got an ace up your sleeve or, as I like to say, a rowdy little Texan on your main bridge."

“You just make sure you don’t run my ship into anything out there in space you hear me cowboy? That and don’t get caught with any of those ‘soldiers’ of yours… I don’t know anything about if you do, got it? And for the love of St. Peter! Stop calling me Frisco Bay!” She paused a moment, then her tone softened a bit “That all Lt?”

OOC: Assuming he says yes, but will edit if necessary if he adds more.

“Alright then. I’ve got to get to work then.” And cuts off communication.

Out of the corner of her eye she catches the visual screen she has set up in her room. It is essentially an electronic photo album. The pictures change every few minutes into a collage of her life. Three photos grace the screen right now, one of which she focuses on.

A younger version of herself, her hair long and dotted with braids that have been dyed purple, standing in her favorite leather jacket outside of a concert hall. The lights blurred in the camera lens displayed the name of some band she couldn’t remember. But she did remember the boy who stood beside her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder with a grin. The boy with the sandy blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, and prep school clothing. Jason.

“Sheila… turn off vis screen…” She called out, using Bob’s pet name for the computer, a habit she had picked up.

=/\\= Yes Commander =/\\= Sheila responded and the screen went blank.

Kennedy went back to preparing for her day.

Stardate: 2368.04.10
Cmdr. Kennedy - Forward Photon Torpedo Launch Bay 0815

“Aye, sair.” Mac hadn’t even turned around as he gave her a wave and his response. They were even.

Kennedy turned her attention back to the engineering feat before her. Carefully she slid the casing closed again and gave herself a slight chiding for allowing herself to get so carried away with it. But with her usual head shake she pulled herself back to her duties.

She tapped her combadge started to talk then sighed and tapped it again to turn it off. Turning toward one of the computer screens in the forward bay she spoke to it instead.

“What is the name of that new Ensign, Sheila?”

=/\\=Ensign John Warwick, Sir.=/\\=

“Thanks, don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Retapping her combadge she spoke into it now, “Cmdr. Kennedy to Ensign Warwick.”

She liked her still shiny pips and even though it was a bit formal sometimes she preferred to use them even when speaking about herself, and certainly preferred it when those below her used the title.

OOC: Assuming response from tap dance boy.

“Mac in TAC,” a slight pause as she physically winces at how that came out between Rowdy, the cocoa and Mac catching her getting personal with the torpedo’s she isn’t thinking straight today, “Lt. MacTavish in Tactical,” she corrects herself quickly, “would like for that briefing to happen before 10 hundred hours. Can you swing that?”

OOC: Assuming some kind of positive response.

“Good. Go ahead and reserve a room through Operations and then send out a request for all required personnel. Speak with MeCall about who that should go to, she’ll get you a list of who needs to be there.”

Stardate:04.10.2368
USS Discovery - Deck 8: Battle Bridge – 08:50

=/\\=Now hear this,=/\\= Captain Blair’s voice sounded over the shipwide com, =/\\= As of 0845 this morning, Kelsey Porter Gavison has been promoted to the rank of Captain, on the authority of Admiral Thomas Wellenburg, and will immediately assume the command of the USS Charon. On behalf of the entire crew of the USS Discovery, I wish to extend him our gratitude for his exemplary service, and we send our warmest wishes for the safety and success of his future endeavors.=/\\=

The announcement had stopped Lt MacTavish in his tracks as he strode back towards the TAC Office to ready himself for the forthcoming briefing with his officers and the ENG crew. He knew, especially tied to the starbase as the Discovery was, that finding a secluded spot in which he could deal with his thoughts on the matter would be hard to find and, so, since the Battle Bridge was often unoccupied except in those circumstances which required it’s use, he took a detour from his planned route and now found himself sitting in the Command Chair of the darkened, secondary bridge. Despite the fact that Kel more than deserved his own command and, of course, despite the fact that MacTavish and Commander… Cap’n… Gavison had had their differences over the years; this was not an announcement about which Jack was terribly enthused. He glowered at the blank viewscreen for a long moment before absently lifting his coffee and swallowing a mouthful.

Tha’s jus’ Charlie’s knickers then, innit? he snarled inwardly, Finally manage tae find an XO tha’s no’ wailin’ fer me court-martial ever’ three blinkin’ days an’, look, th’ sheepshagger goes off an’ gets ‘is own bloody boat! A faint grin played on his lips as the coffee cup tipped away; ‘e bloody-well desairves it… He sat motionless in the dim, red glow of the Battle Bridge’s lights for a moment, pleased for and proud of Commander Gavison’s promotion but, at the same time, more than a bit fretful as to who might be replacing the man he’d come to respect more than any other First Officer he had served under in his entire career… an’ quite poss’bly th’ only one wi’ whom I’ve ne’er come tae blows…
He took another sip of his coffee as his gaze finally broke from the darkened viewscreen and fixed on the LCARS console built into the arm of the command chair. Before Counselor Arevaci had been reassigned to an Intrepid Class ship a year ago, the man had managed to convince Mac that, if the TAC officer wasn’t comfortable sharing his inner feelings with people, he might glean the same benefits if he were to keep a personal log. Mac had balked at the idea, at first – “Ye’ll nae convince me ta go keepin’ a diary, Counselor, any more than yer like tae see me tend’rly strokin’ a wee kitty an’ weepin’ o’er Betazoid melodrama!” – but, at Chris’s insistence (and Chan’s agreement) that having an outlet aside from flying off the handle might be a good not only for him but his career, as well, Jack had eventually given it a try. Both Chan and Chris had told him, after he had finally relented and recorded his first few awkward entries, that the process had made a noticeable difference and, as much as he hated to admit it, Mac had to agree… Aye, he murmured as his finger flicked over the terminal…

Personal Log: Jack MacTavish Stardate: 45305.2
=/\\= I’m no’ bloody-well sure where ta begin… Noah’s jus’ announced tha’ Kel’s been giv’n ‘is own command; Cap’n Gavison - USS Charon - she’s a Saber class, I b’lieve, which means Kel’ll be runnin’ more tactical cruises’s opposed tae the sort ‘e’s grown accustm’d tae abaird Discovery… Sherry an’ their wee daught’r will no’ be joinin’ ‘im abaird th’ Charon, either, bless ‘em. Let’s ‘ope tha’ ye dinnae miss too vera much o’ th’ lass’s growin’ years, aye? Green grow th’ rushes, laddy… green grow th’ rushes… *sigh*

There’s been nae waird on Kel’s replacement which, I s’pose, troobles me a bit more’n Cap’n Gavison leavin’. I’ve no’ ‘ad th’ best record o’ bein’ agreeable wi’ many o’ me superiors until I come abaird this fine vessel an’ I dinnae partic’larly look fairward tae ‘avin’ tae break en a new one… Per’aps, whoe’er et es’ll be ‘alf th’ XO Kel was, aye? *chuff*… An’ per’aps, Jackie-boy, ye’ll mind yer mooth an’ no’ set a burr en ‘is britches ere ‘e’s been abaird a week, aye?

*long pause*

Seem’s th’ fam’ly’s changed a fair sight inna last four years… Avanti… Mali… Raines… Tuvar… Kel… Doc White…

*sigh*

… Chan…

End bloody log…. =/\\=

…Jack reclined in the chair, indulged in a long swallow of coffee, and then restrained a frustrated sigh as he blinked at the dark, featureless wall before him.

“I do miss ye, me bonny apple-blossom,” he said in scarcely more than a whisper, “but I promise ye I’ll do me vera best no’ tae take et oot on yer egghaids, aye?”

“Enough o’ pessin’ me kilt,” he rumbled, hauling himself out of the chair and striding for the hatch, “there’s wairk tae be done…”

Stardate: 2368.04.10 - USS Discovery, Main Engineering – 09:30
Bob finished the implementation of the last memory module and breathed a sigh of relief, “There you be Sheila. Better, smarter, faster, stronger.”

*Beep* “Diagnostic complete. Access time increased by 15.4 percent. Capacity by 45%”

“Sweet, Nighty Nighty then.”

Bob signaled to the waiting Ensign to take over his position.”treat her well Zev. She’s had a tough morning. I’m off to Z land for a bit.”

“Yes Sir.” replied the ensign, clearly not sure of what Bob just said to him.

=^=Lt. Bob N’Doog?” =^= came the voice of chirper Tanyi Mecall over his communicator.

Bob clicked the badge, “Your time, your dime on the chime, dude”

=^=There is a special briefing in Operation scheduled in a half hour. Commander Kennedy requested your presence. =^=

“Ops? What’s the Top?”

=^= I’m sorry Bob, I didn’t understand. =^=

“Topic. What’s we chatting about dudette?”

=^=Oh! The new Photon Torpedos=^=

“I don’t do violence.Tanyi.”

“I know Bob but the commander wants your input on the guidance computers.”

Bob briefly thought about passing due to the double he just pulled, but he was a team player. Sleep could wait a bit.

“Be there then. N’Doog out”

Bob changed his route in mid-step and headed towards the turbolift. As he approached, Jack MacTavish came around the corner towards the same lift.

“Whoa. Jackiedude! You must be heading my way because we can’t talk boomboxes without the chief trigger puller!” Bob raised his hand in the air as a greeting, “what it is, what it was and what it shall be my friend.”

Mac had been routed through Main Engineering thanks to having encountered one of a handful of still-out-of-service turbolifts on his way back from Aft Torpedo Support on Deck 35. Even though the Catullan’s shift had ended more than three hours ago, the TAC officer wasn’t surprised to run into Bob N’doog on his way through the cavernous ENG deck.

“G’marnin’, Lt,” Jack nodded unable not to smirk, his eyes flicked to the Engineer’s upraised hand hoping the lad wasn’t expecting what he referred to as a high-five, “I’m bound fer the briefin’ onna type sixes, if tha’s wha’ ye mean, lad, aye.”

He stepped into the lift when the hatch opened. “As tae wha’ et es, was, an’ shall be, boy-o,” he remarked, tipping his coffee cup as Lt N’doog joined him in the lift, “Et es a fargin’ miracle tha’ Fleet Command dinnae waffle any longer on deployin’ th’ Mk VI’s; et was a fair sight passed due fer ‘em tae ge’ off their duffs an’ equip us proper; an’ et shall be a bloody grand day when Discovery casts off an’ we put this station en our wake…

…Deck 11,” he said to the computer, his eyes turning back to regard the blue haired Catullan as the lift hatch whisked shut, “Pullin’ anoth’r double shift are ye, Bob?”

“Yeah, doing the mem-mod on Sheila and I prefer to be the dude behind the wheel for the whole trip if you catch my deal. Was going to catch some Z’s but the Kennedydude wants my brainwaves on your new toaster. Sure that you are grooving with the musing for these Marks, but I don’t do violence, cathartic or otherwise, dude.” Bob thought he saw some pain in the eyes of Jack and he wanted to help but new the burly man wouldn’t want him tripping through his closet, “So, any idea who our new X-man gonna be?” Bob asked.

Mac, of course, didn't necessarily agree with Bob's pacifistic inclinations but he certainly understood them and would never begrudge the man his beliefs. Ef et were no' fer lads o' both our ilk, he mused as Bob duded on, th' gal'xy'd be a barkin-mad place fer sure.
"Nae, lad," Mac rumbled in response to the query about whom the new XO might be, "I've no 'eard th' fairst peep.

"I'll nae mind ef I see ye pluggin' up yer ears a' th' war'ead briefin', Bob," the TAC officer nodded, "Jus' so long as ye tells me wha' I'm 'opin' tae 'ear aboot those guid'nce computers."

The Scot sipped at his coffee again as his eyes tracked to the small display that indicated which deck they were passing. A faint grin played on his lips as the cup returned to its 'at ease' position... "I'm no' gonna 'ave tae call the bloody thengs 'Sheila' er sommat, am I?"

“No! Did that once and the Captaindude was all whoa, and I was all like no way, and he was all whoa and reggies so I had to kill the pill in the drill. No thrill, let me tell you. You say Computer, I say Sheila – it’s all good under the hood as it should. No pulling of the ears though. I figure that you got to respect the ying with the yang, I like peace but don’t force it on anyone. I also like breathable air so I leave the fight to the right in the night cause they are outta sight – you dig?” as Bob finished the lift doors chimed and opened onto Deck 11.

"Aye, Lieutenant," Jack chuckled, shaking his head as he and the Engineer stepped out into the corridor, "I'm... hip."

Stardate: 2368.04.10 - 0900
USS Discovery, Counsellor's Office, Deck 6


Lt. Venn Constantine touched fingertips to temples, massaging in slow circles as the early ache and throb of a headache crept across her, coiling up within her skull unkindly. There was a moment, just one, where she longed for nothing more than to curl back up beneath her sheets and sleep the day away, indulgent and lethargic and unproductive. But the day waited. Her patients - how she disliked that term - needed her in their various ways.

The kind ear, the sounding board, the mother figure, the disciplined friend, the conscientious stranger... and as they unburdoned themselves, as they lay at her feet thier troubles and doubts, as they sat with her, small and vulnerable, Venn listened. She observed. She noted, nudged, and encouraged freedom of self, of expression, of anger and emotion and release.

Maressa had tought her, so very long and so many lives ago, the value of creative expression, and though her education had directed her into certain schools of tought, she had always believed that the best way to reach the balance within oneself was to simply let it all out. These walls had held witness to tears, and screaming, thrown objects, and spontaneous dancing. Oh yes, there had been dancing. These walls had witnessed happiness, celebrations of joy, and moments of peace. And it was those moments Venn Constantine liked best.

Maressa of the wayward soul. Maressa of the ever changing. Was she happy, wherever she was now? Was she in one place, still and unmoving? Or was she gone again, off to another planet, another stage, never herself for anyone, even her own child? The throbbing in her head threatened to expand, to crack her skull with a ferocious roar,and she pushed aside thoughts of her mother, of the past, of the endless procession of new names and new places and new planets, and refocused herself on the present, the now, the her she had been for years now, in the same place, sill and unmoving, like her mother never taught her to be.

It was here she was needed. It was here she was meant to be, where she could do the most good. Something Maressa woud never have understood. She gave these people something, something they needed.

Some needed only place to vent, others needed guidance, but some.... some held onto the pain of the past and carried it with them, like a talisman, like a badge of honor. Some wouldn't even talk, staring ahead instead in stony silence. But all of them, every one, were unique, and she was meant to be there for them. Because Venn needed them, in a way they would never understand. The dull throb in her skull was subsiding already; not opening her eyes helped. However, she was fairly certain not even her most understandieng of patients would tolerate talking to a woman who looked like she would rather be napping.

A smile passed her leips as she moved, shifted, i her seat and sat straightr, opening her eyes again and seeing the day before her as a chance to heal herself, while helping others heal themselves. As soft emerald eyes played over the lines of text that exposed, in a clinical and detatched manner, the story of their outter lives, she looked for the deeper meanings, the reasons for their traumas, their worries and fears. Her first appointment was due in an hour. An hour to plan, to devise, to construct...

And as she thought, as she read, Venn lost herself in the consctucts of hr field, the battlefields of the mind and emotions, and let the time slip away from her.

Stardate 2368.04.10-0830-1000
USS Discovery Deck 36 and Holodeck 3 Warwick exited the turbo lift onto deck 36 intent on checking out the warp engine and the tweaks that inevitably are applied in space.

=/\\\\=Cmmdr. Kennedy to Ensign Warwick=/\\\\= the Chief Engineer’s voice piped out of Warwick’s communicator.
“Warwick here” John said as he tapped his badge.
=/\\\\=Mac in Tac=/\\\\= A pause as Ensign Warwick raises his eyebrows at the unintentional rhyme. =/\\\\=Lt. Mctavish in Tactical. Would like that briefing before ten hundred hours. Can you swing that?=/\\\\=
“Yes Cmmdr. I can do that.” John says as he reverses course back to the turbo lift.
=/\\\\=Good. Go ahead and reserve a room through Operations and then send out a request for all required personnel. Speak with MeCall about who that should go to, she’ll get you a list of who needs to be there. =/\\\\=
“I’d like to do the briefing in holodeck 3” John says as he enters the turbo lift. “It’s where I’ve programmed the necessary demonstrations.”
(OOC Asuming a begrudging agreance)
“Thanks Cmmdr. Warwick out.” John taps his badge again closing the channel and retaps it to open a new channel. “Ensign Warwick to Chief MeCall.”
=/\\\\=MeCall here=/\\\\= The chipper voice of Tanyi responds.
“Tanyi can I get you to do me a favor and tell all senior engineering and tactical staff that a briefing on the new mark VI torpedoes will be on holodeck 3 at ten hundred hours?” John asks.
=/\\\\=Certainly leave it to me=/\\\\= Tanyi pipes =/\\\\=Wait did you say holodeck 3?=/\\\\=
“Yep I did.” John smiles “Tanks Tanyi you’re the best.”
=/\\\\=Ok if you says so. MeCall out=/\\\\=
John sighs as he climbs into the turbo lift. I guess the warp engine will have to wait. “Deck 11” John says refocusing on his briefing. Naturally John was the first one at the holodeck and so he set the program and entered. The first holoprogram John had set was a simulation of the bndge with a Romulan War Bird on the view screen getting ready to attack the simulated Discovery. “Computer freeze program. “John said before any action could take place. The idea behind the simulation would be to show the torpedoes in action at various intervals of the battle starting with a warning shot of yield 1. John stood at tactical waiting for the arrival of his superiors.
“Hello and welcome to the Mark VI Torpedo briefing. We’re in the holodeck because I’ve found that a simulated demonstration is far more informatory than a report reading. As you can see this simulation will be against a Romulan Warbird. During the simulation I will show how the Mark VI has a variety of ranges, power levels, control navigation and detonation, and frequencies.” John pauses to take a breath. “First I will demonstrate the damage effect of yield one with our shields up range maximum of 300,000,000 kilometers. The torpedo’s frequency is set to match our shields which will allow us to fire without lowering shields. Computer continue program.”
The Warbird on the view screen comes into slightly better focus situating itself square with the simulated Discovery. John pushes the fire button releasing a single torpedo which detonates on the shields of the Warbird. John presses another button bringing the tactical data on the view screen.
“Computer freeze program.” John says freezing the simulation. “As you can see the low yield torpedo didn’t damage their shields. From the data that I gathered the yield one torpedo is best used to trigger an effect or as a warning shot. Even had it been fired with no shields up it’s unlikely that it would have penetrated their hull. On the other hand a 16 yield torpedo. Computer resume program.”
John pressed another button firing another torpedo. It detonated as It hit the shields. The tactical displayed showed he shields completely destroyed and the Warbird in critical condition.
“16 yield is strong enough to blow up a sun. Not that I would suggest blowing up a sun.” John said. “There are 16 variations of strength the warheads can be set at. We are capable of firing ten torpedoes at once and with the new targeting system installed with these babies we can set each individual torpedo to a different yield. The new targeting system will also allow us to either set a detonation point or to self detonate an already launched torpedo. Computer run Torpedo 2.”
The view screen shifted from the nearly dusted Warbird to an asteroid field with several varying size asteroids obviously heading straight for the Discovery. “I have preset the five warheads for the yield 5,8,10,11, and 13.” John said as he hit the fire button. Five torpedoes launch making impact with the asteroids and vaporizing all but the largest which broke up into 3 more smaller asteroids. “now I have preset torpedoes with yield 3 and preset the detonation point just before impact.” John hit the fire button launching three more torpedoes which detonated right before hitting the asteroids changing their course.
“Perhaps the coolest feature of these warheads is the adjustable frequency. If you can match the frequency of the photons in the warhead with the frequency of the enemy shields they will bypass the shields as if they weren’t even there. Computer run Torpedo 3.” John said and the view screen switched to a new Romulan Warbird. The bridge switched to red alert with mild damage. “In this simulation we have lost shields. That’s important because the warheads are preset to our shield frequency in order for them to bypass. Since we have no shields I have reset the warhead’s frequency o match the Romulan’s shields and set It on yield 16 at 200,000 Km.” John said as he fired. The torpedo detonated on the Warbird leaving nothing but debris.
“One more demonstration with the 16 yield torpedo.” John said as a Romulan Warbird materialized on the view screen. “That war bird is within 10,000 kilometers of us.” John reported as he hit the button “and I am using a 16 yield warhead.” The torpedo launched making impact with the Warbird and the holoprogram came to an explosive end leaving the observers in a plain holodeck. “These warheads are fantastic weapons at long range, the longer the better.”

(OOC: feel free to interject as needed I'll come back and re-edit)

Stardate: 2368.04.10 – 011:45
USS Discovery, Docking Bay and nearest Computer Terminal

Toni grabbed her gear and stood at the lock the moment the shuttle connected to the Discovery.

The Discovery! A Galaxy Class ship!

The cards were right. The first had been the Ten of Cups, (proper) Perpetual Success, yet the deeper truth of the card touched on a deep hurt for it dealt with deceptive fantasies, prostitution of talents, and wishful thinking. There was a lesson to be learned and that was to face emotional reality. The second card had been the Queen of Swords (proper) signifying a woman who is perceptive and intelligent. Sharp and quick witted she understands human suffering. A situation calls for spiritual perception. Professional counseling or self analysis may be needed. Toni let out a sigh, both of the cards was all too true of her. The third card had been the Seven of Cups normally Illusory Success but it had been reversed so that it meant success through will and determination. Emotional discrimination is valuable. Set goals and follow through.

Toni had been watching the ship all through the short trip from the Star Base in between going over the ship’s layout and information on the command officers which had been downloaded to her PADD. She had spent the entire trip from earth acquainting herself with the layout and crew of the USS Brattain, a Miranda class ship only to arrive and find that it had been sent out on an priority mission. A few seconds after checking in on Star Base 128 and learning the USS Brattain was off without her, her PADD beeped and there was a new set of orders awaiting her. She almost saluted the command officer who recorded her change of assignment. She was to report to the USS Discovery. Oddly, as if the man knew the Captain of the Discovery personally, he had added, that the ship was due to depart in two days, but she should check in immediately as there was no knowing when Captain Blair would announce that the Discovery was ready to depart.

She ran to get a shuttle only to find that is was already on a run to the Discovery with a pair of new Ensigns. Well she would not be alone as being the newbie among the Jr. Officers. During the wait she downloaded the specs on the ship and studied them as best she could.

Toni double checked her gold and black uniform, took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, then took up the handle of her rolling bag in her left hand. Stepping through the first and then second lock and onto the deck proper of the USS Discovery, Toni come smartly to attention, saluted the logo, in lieu of a flag, of the United Federation of Planets, and then the Officer of The Deck.

“Ensign Antoinette La Rue, reporting for duty aboard the USS Discovery. Permission to come aboard.”

There was a slight pause, then came the reply with a salute.

“Permission Granted,”

Did she say it right, as far as the proper protocol she had done the right thing, but did it sound right. She had not wanted to sound like a shavetail Jr. Officer on her first real assignment, even if she was.

Toni moved on till she came to the first computer station. “Computer, where are the Quarters for Ensign Antoinette La Rue.”

=/\\\\= There are no quarters assigned to Ensign Antionette La Rue. There is no such person listed on the roster of the USS Discovery.=/\\\\=

Now what? It seems she out ran the notice of her reassignment. Though the Officer of the Deck must have gotten something about her, or he would have never let her on board. Toni did not like loose ends and the last hour had been full of them, this was not a auspicious beginning to her first tour of duty.

Toni reached into a small case hanging from her service belt. She brought out a small oval of smokey Quartz that was shaped like a flattened eggs, allbeit a small one, and held it in her left had between her thumb and forefinger. Absentlly she rubbed her thumb in the slight thumbshaped depression that had been carved in it. Her worry stone, smokey quartz was excellent for draining away negative energies.

Toni rubbed as she consulted the computer so she could find The Securtiy headquarters and hopefully the Chief Security Officer.

Stardate: 2368.04.10
USS Discovery - Deck 5, CSO Office - 0730
Rena looked up from her computer as she heard the computer's voice notify her of her visitor.

=/\\=Ensign McIrish is at the door.=/\\=

"Please enter." Rena called to open the door.

When she entered, the girl was the epitome of the enthusiastic recruit, exactly what one would expect fresh from the academy.

"Computer," Rena said to her terminal, "Bring up Ensign McIrish's profile."

She looked at her screen for a moment, but looked over at Kate, her right, violet eye dilating slightly as she looked more closely at her.

"You know..." She said, "You're a bit late."

Rena paused then, letting the words linger in the air for a moment. It was perhaps in this moment that she examined Kate the closest. After all, it would be in this moment that stress and pressure collided within her...

(OOC: Assuming Kate gets a bit flustered and is about to provide a reason/excuse)

"But that's alright." Rena continued, "You are new to this vessel, and you only arrived yesterday. It would be unfair to expect you to already have adapted under such short notice. Please relax; I'm fairly certain that you will find that this department isn't so formal as others. In the lab, we are all scientists; rank doesn't matter so much as where one's area of expertise lies. So then, what area are you most interested in?"

(OOC: Presuming she answers xenobiology)

"In that case, you might want to consider working under Lieutenant Caleb Talda from time to time. He also works in that field, and may be able to teach you some things you may not already know." Rena smiled.

(OOC: If she also answers with an interest in the marine area)

"Hmm... you might also want to consider working with Petty Officer Ruea Nami then. She may not technically be a commanding officer of this vessel, but... well, you'll find out when you meet her." Rena said, shaking her head slightly, "But you need not consider yourself limited to the company of those two; the other Ensigns, Devion Bradley and Allen Ridley in particular, would probably be glad to meet someone newer than them, as well as show you around."

"Do you have any questions for me right now?" Rena asked.

(OOC: This next part is if there aren't any; if there are, I'll add a post for Rena's answers)

"Now then, I believe Allen could use a hand right about now. I suggest you go down to deck 39, and help the others bring up the probes for testing. I believe that's everything..." Rena finished.