Stardate 2368.07.08
USS Discovery, Bridge - 0319
Before Mac could respond John manned his station and hit the comm. "Chief, deploy Alpha team to deck eleven, Lt. Tier take the team, possible intruders."

Turning back to Lt.MacTavish, "Any other updates....Sir."

(Edited the Officer)

Stardate: 2368.07.08
USS Discovery, main bridge – 0319
Serene sat in her chair on the Captain’s left hand and watched as people around her sprang into action. In situations like this she knew she was one of the lesser participants and knew to remain silent and out of the way unless there was something crucial she could add; at the moment there wasn’t anything she could do or say. She waited to see if the Captain had need of her; and watched.

MacTavish voiced his suggestion. "I recommend tha’ we retreat ta a distance outside o’ known taripedo range ‘til I c’n get wi’ Sensors an’ ‘ave some tinkerin’ done, sair. Per’aps these sneaky buggers’ll give a bit o’ a chase an’ we’ll catch a wink o' their energy signature ef naught else... Give us somethen’ ta point at, aye?"

"Agreed, Lieutenant," the Captain responded then turned to the Helmsman.

"Ensign, evasive manuevers immediately. Take us in the opposite direction of the damage, then come about to face this general position."
Serene had never seen MacTavish in action like this before, he seemed to have a very well organized mind that could respond very quickly in these types of situations. He thought quickly and efficiently and Captain Blair seemed to value his opinion and quick thinking. She pondered what she had read in her file on MacTavish and how it seemed to contradict what she saw when he was working. The ‘issues’ he often exhibited would not normally be associated with someone who was efficient and hard working. The incidents in his record reflected that he sometimes let his temper override the obvious intelligence inside. She made mental notes to address these later when she had a session with him that she was determined to have soon. She had sent a request to him a week ago to set up a date and time but so far he had yet to respond and when she confronted him directly he was always too busy at the time to think about it. Well she knew how to handle his sort; she had been doing this for some time, long before she joined Star Fleet, and she would corner him if necessary. But for now they had other matters to which to attend.

She heard them talking about a ship, she watched the main view screen but didn’t see anything. She didn’t really expect to as this sort of thing was out of her bailiwick. She sat watching other jump into action. The warning of intruders alarmed her but her face remained for the most part impassive. Hearing the word ‘Borg’ caused a emotional response, a faint tick at the corner of her mouth gave away that she was feeling something. Why shouldn’t she? Her people were, for the most part, wiped out by the Borg. A few of hundred of her people scattered across the galaxy as far as she knew were all that remained. She steeled herself with a short meditation technique as the others did what was required.

She wished she could do something, yet her mental ability couldn’t help them located the ship that might be out there. She had to visually see a person in order to ‘sense’ their emotions and gauge their reactions. A clocked ship wasn’t much use to her. So for now she sat and waited and looked around sensing the tension and emotions of those around her. She felt some fear, but most were determined to do a good job. She sensed a firm resolve from Captain Blair, he seemed completely in control of himself and the situation. Lt. MacTavish as well seemed firmly in control although his voice showed fierce emotion inside she felt confidence and some anger at the intruders. She was glad that he had something to focus that anger upon, it could be a good thing at times like these.

Serene remained silent and continued to monitor the situation hoping that in some way she might be of assistance. All she could do was evaluate the crew and make sure that no one seemed ready to break under the pressure of the threat; if anyone did she would be duty bound to warn the Captain but so far everyone seemed to focus upon their duties as a way to deal with their fears and concerns.

Stardate 2368.07.08
USS Discovery - Deck 3; Lieutenant Scofield's Quarters – 0318
Lieutenant Scofield was hastily donning her uniform. She had just reached her quarters when the report came that Zavaleta had, in fact, been incapacitated in the initial strike. She felt foolish for not checking to ensure he was en-route to the bridge while she was returning from the holosuite; a significant lapse in judgement that she was certain would come back to bite her.

Furthermore she was now exceedingly worried knowing that Ensign Thorn was most likely alone at the Conn.
The kid had just recently been promoted to an FCO She bit the corner of her lip in agitation Talk about a initiation by bloody fire; He's probably going out of his mind.
Evelynn knew she'd have to hurry to the bridge, but having already run the length of the ship to reach the turbolift on Deck 12, she was already breathing heavily; she needed to have some breath when she got there.

As she was making her way to the turbolift she felt the sudden lurching of the ship after the third impact, and nearly lost her footing. New warnings began to blare, but she paid them no mind; they could still save the ship, they had to. Focusing on this thought the aCFO hurried to the bridge; she ran.


Stardate 2368.07.08
USS Discovery -Bridge – 0320
At the Captain's order Ensign Thorn began taking what he could call extremely cautionary evasive manuevers; it was difficult to account for attacks that could spawn from anywhere. The decision to move opposite the direction of damage seemed sound, and he navigated the starship into the range they identified.

At least they have a plan, he thought, nervously bringing the ship about. but won't our attackers move about too? Either we sprung their trap... or they snuck up on us with active cloaks...
He wasn't sure which option he preferred; in either case the attackers had caught them completely off guard and the situation was escalating by the minute. Gulping back his fear, Thorn eased the Discovery about in an arc to face the location they had previously occupied. "In position"

Within a fleeting moment all seemed well, until the third pitching of the deck had Thorn gripping the console with blanched knuckles; there was nothing he could have done to avoid the hit.

=/\\=WARNING! Hull breach detected on decks twenty and twenty-four.=/\\=
Everything descended from there. Warnings blared and there was a sudden bull rush of everyone reporting in a chaotic mishmash that the Captain was expected to sort out.

However things were worse still; Thorn tried to compensate for the blast, to quickly stabilize the ship, only to find the port impulse nearly unresponsive.

No.... nononononononono Frantically re-running the diagnostics from his terminal Thorn, feared the worse. As he tried to speak up, he was cut off by the Chief Operations Officer, who jumped right into the details of the impacts.

As good as sealing the COO's diagnosis, Thorn forced himself to speak up. "Captain! The port impulse engine is virtually unresponsive. Output well below half of optimality; we're a miracle short of stranded, I don't know that I can avoid further impacts."

In response, the turbolift door once again swooshed open, admitting the panting form of the aCFO.

Inhaling deeply, Scofield quickly saluted the Captain.
"Rreporting," she had to gulp back air "Sir."

She continued towards the conn.

"En--sign. Give me a ..." She paused to catch her breath. "G-give me a read out. What'ave we got to work with here."


Stardate 2368.07.08
USS Discovery -Deck 4; Shuttle Bay One – 0325
Lana walked into the shuttle bay, “What happened?”

Kampf was still directing the few of his staff that had remained in the shuttle bay when the Chief Medical Officer had arrived. He had activated the medical equipment module in the cargo bay as emergency preparation for any incoming wounded. This was a factor which greatly contributed to his decision not to contact the transporter rooms to beam the CFO from the deck; med teams would be able to use the bay for their means. The most recent impact had also justified his decision, as the transporters were likely busy and he didn't want to risk the CFO in case of a power flucuation. Kampf felt for those who may be in pain, but he himself had no experience in medical applications; the best he could do was to arrange preparations.

That fact that it was the Chief Medical Officer herself had arrived likely meant she diverted herself from the bridge to assess Zavaleta's condition. A slightly odd occurrence, but one that Kampf felt would would greatly aid in his staff's reception of any incoming wounded. It had taken until just before this point to ensure the module was set up correctly, but the shuttle bay crew had managed to relocate the CFO out of the shuttlecraft and onto a cot to await treatment. Kampf had doubts that he would be coming around anytime soon however.

"Commander. The Lieutenant was working on internal shuttle circuitry when the first impacts occurred." Kampf reported as he led her to Zavaleta's cot. "We did not find him right away, so it is unknown how long he has be unconscious for since we found him. Moving him was performed with as much care as possible, so as not to aggravate any injuries existing injuries; the Lieutenant was bleeding although we have no gauge of severity. Emergency medical equipment has been deployed in the bay, and we are ready for any wounded incoming after that last impact."

Arriving, he paused a moment to let her look over the CFO; an initial uninterrupted assessment. "Commander, I need to organize preparations for additional injured crewmen; I'll leave you to your work. Please," he said, gesturing to his staff. "let us know if we can be of further assistance."

Stardate: 2368.07.08

USS Discovery,deck 20/enroute to...? – 0319


Tasha cursed as she staggered out into the corridor, swept into the throng of milling and dazed people in the rush to clear the deck. the ships interior defensive force field had kept the deck from creating a vacuum sucking everyone and thing out into space. They still needed to shut the bulk heads and seal them the force field was only a temporary hold eventually it would weaken and give in to the pull of void space. Tasha bit her lip as a body jarred her injured arm, she wanted to rage and scream at them to watch where they were going. she clenched her good hand about the hollo locket and sighed, she new that most were like her ensines, civilians and dazed and confused. the headed towards two turbo lifts. a security and medical ensine were accessing the people and moving them either to one elevator to ten forward or to sick bay. Tasha looked at her arm, could she manage to get to engineering? she moved her fingers and winced slightly, the only visible discoloration seemed to be a large goose egg swelling at the end of her elbow. she sighed well it wasn’t good but at least it wasn't worse then that. as she entered the lift to the sick bay she noted that out of the several people in the elevator only few had bleeding or abrasions most like her had large goose eggs in a variety of areas. most of the people had been taken to ten forward. the lift doors swooshed close an Tasha closed her eyes, she hated lifts they always made her stomach queasy, she sighed with relief as the doors swooshed open again.

Stardate 2368.07.08
USS Discovery, Deck 10. turbolift 4 - 0319
Tier tapped his comm several times but got nothing but static and signals that the person he was trying to signal was engaged. He swore loudly and repeatedly and then tried something.

=/\\\\= Sheila! What is gokk-bonking happening?. =/\\\\=

"I'm sorry. I do not understand that inquiry."

"Arrrggh!" Tier moaned, feeling helpless.

=/\\\\="Chief, deploy Alpha team to deck eleven, Lt. Tier take the team, possible intruders." =/\\\\=

Intruders? On the ship?
Tier took off in a sprint for the nearest turbo lift, "Get out of my gokk-bonking way! Security coming to save the gokk-bonking day!" He got into the lift and commanded "Computer. Deck 11. As close to the invaders as possible." He checked both his phasers charges and moved up the power of both because it was unlikely the intruders were here to sell gokk-bonking cookies.

=/\\\\=Alpha Team, this is Lt. Tier. I am on route to deck 11 via turbolift 4. What is your position?"

The turbolift slowed down and Tier brought his phasers to ready. Gokk bonking invaders going to take my gokk bonking ship. I don't think so! Not on my gokk bonking watch. Not while I have gokk bonking breathe and a charge in my gokk bonking phasers.

OOC: I wasn't going to post as I have a lot going on right now but I couldn't resist.

Stardate 2368.07.08
USS Discovery, main bridge - 0321
Captain Blair surveyed the bridge, his expression almost blank. Warning indicators lit up the various consoles like proverbial Christmas trees. The klaxon itself had been muted, but the visual red alert indicators continued to flash. Officers around the bridge wore exxpressions of anger, of worry... perhaps even of a little fear.

Commander Avanti had appeared and made his way to the XO's chair, but the massive Domtarian had had little to share. His expression was alien enough to be difficult to read, but Blair could have sworn that the former engineer looked... almost perplexed, as if he couldn't quite grasp something about the current situation.

"Captain!" Ensign Thorn exclaimed. "The port impulse engine is virtually unresponsive. Output well below half of optimality; we're a miracle short of stranded, I don't know that I can avoid further impacts."

Lieutenant Graham had his own take. "Sir, I recommend we shut it down, NOW, or we may lose half the ship!"

No warp drive. Only one functional impulse engine. Shields failing, two hull breaches. Boarders. Situations did not get much more dire than this.

And yet, in the chaos of the moment, Noah Blair felt pride. Yes, there was fear; only madmen felt no fear. But that fear was accompanied in his officers by jaws set in determination.

Not one soul had given up, despite what was becoming an increasingly obvious outcome. Science was racing to try a new tack to discover their foe, tactical was looking for any possible defense - and counterattack - strategy, operations was holding things together in the face of incredible odds, helm was fighting to wring every ounce of performance from the crippled ship.

If there was a finer collection of officers anywhere in the galaxy, Blair mused, I'd like to see it. Hopefully, they will grow from this...
The deck heaved again, the lighting on the bridge flickered and dimmed, and even more warning indicators began to flash. The blood drained from Lieutenant Graham's face, but he dutifully began to report. "Captain, direct hit. We've lost..."

Enough was enough.
Captain Blair cut his ops chief off. "Belay that, Lieutenant."

The Captain stood, then spoke in a measured tone. "Cancel red alert. Computer, cancel simulation."

=/\\=Affirmative. Simulation cancelled.=/\\= the computer responded. Instantly, the warnings ceased, the lights came back up to normal, and all instrument panels returned to nominal readouts. The viewscreen flashed for a moment, then reset to a slightly different display of nothing but empty space.

Next, Blair paged the intercom. "Now hear this," he spoke firmly. "This is Captain Blair. Red alert has been cancelled. The preceding events were a drill. You may now return to your scheduled duties. That is all."

With communication closed, Blair addressed the bridge crew. "Thank you all for your participation. Senior staff, I would like to discuss my thoughts with you in the Observation Lounge at 0800. Until then, try to get some sleep."

He then keyed his communicator. "Blair to Doctor Synklar. Doctor, how is Lieutennt Zavaleta?"

(assuming a response indicating minor injuries, stable condition, etc)

"Thank you, Doctor," he replied. "Hopefully, the remainder of your duties related to the drill will entail nothing more than a few bumps and bruises. I fear that Lieutenant N'doog may have taken my comment about 'shaking things up' a bit too literally. Blair out."

Speaking of which... Blair mused before keying his communicator again.

"Blair to Engineering. Commander Pantanko, please give my regards to Lieutenant N'doog. The simulation he created was very good - perhaps a bit too good. I had not expected the situation to become that grim so quickly. Regardless, I very much appreciate his efforts on this."

(assuming an affirmative reply)

"Thank you, Commander," he answered. "Blair out."

With all of the immediate duties taken care of, Captain Blair singled out the junior operations officer that had been the original watch officer. "If there is nothing else? Lieutenant Ames," he spoke, "you have the bridge."

With that, the Captain exited, and the boredom of the graveyard shift was allowed to slowly filter back in.

(The part with Natasha I was discussing it with Astrid)

Stardate:2368.07.08
USS Discovery; Deck 4; Shuttle Bay One – 0325-0340
Listening intently to Kampf explaining the situation, Lana clicked her tongue when she heard that the CFCO was moved, though, if he had stayed where he was until I could get here I could be confirming a death. Quickly reigning in her irritation she continued to listen.

Upon reaching the fallen CFCO Lana had already began a mental list of things she would need to put on the top priority list, His head being the main and highest priority. I need to access the wound and see just how much damage his head took.
Though she had already began to tune out the man at her side, she nodded her head in agreement. If she needed someone to help her, she would no doubt ask for the help. As it stood at the moment though, Lana was content with working alone as she moved to the CFCO’s side and started her inspection. Seeing that the only injury the CFCO had received was his head she started there. Taking out the equipment she would need she began wiping the blood gently Lana shook her head, as if clearing her mind This is not the time to worry about other things. Seeing that the gash on the man’s head looked worse than it actually was she picked up the dermal regenerator and began closing the gash as quickly as possible.

(Assuming he’s waking up…)

“You’re awake. That’s a good sign.” Looking over him quickly she smiled to the man, “You have a mild concussion, I suggest taking things easier than normal for a day or two.” Lana paused when the Red Alert Klaxon stopped. Sighing all the doctor could think was how much work she’d probably have to redo when she got back to Sickbay.

She had just stood up when she heard the Captain,

=/\\\\= Blair to Doctor Synklar. Doctor, how is Lieutenant Zavaleta? =/\\\\=

Sighing slightly she quickly replied, “Got himself a mild concussion Sir. I’ve told him to keep it easy for a day or two. If he listens however, that’s on him.”

=/\\\\= Thank you doctor. Hopefully , the remainder of you duties related to the drill will entail nothing more than a few bumps and bruises. I fear that Lietenant N’doog may have taken my comment about shaking things up a bit too literally. Blair out. =/\\\\=

Lana shook her head slightly before turning back to the CFCO, “Alright aside from taking it easy you should be fine to walk around. And when I say taking it easy – I do mean taking it easy, that means no crawling under the Shuttle’s to look at them for a few days. I’m sure one of the other’s in your department surely knows what to do.”

(Assuming his answer is positive…)

“Then I shall leave the rest in your hands. I have a sickbay to get back to. Have a good rest of the night Lt.”

Lana gathered her equipment, handing him something for the pain then began to make her way back to the Sickbay.


Stardate: 2368.07.08
USS Discovery; Deck 12; Sickbay – 0319 -0350
Doctor Sahara scurried around doing as commanded. Getting things ready for possible wounded. She sighed in relief when Lana left the Sickbay. While she enjoyed her job the doctor hated the Chief Medical Officer her and her everything has to have a place She thought coldly, before returning to her duties. With Lana out of the Bay she could hopefully do things her way. Hearing the doors open she tensed hoping it wasn't Lana returning. Her wishes were granted as injured personnel began trickling in, nurses helping to treat wounds, helping them remain calm.
Looking up when a Nurse led a wounded ensign over to her,

“Dr. Sahara, she needs to be looked at.” Sahara nodded and turned to the woman who was now sitting on the bed,

“Alright let’s get you checked out Natasha.” Looking her over Sahara turned to Natasha’s left arm and examined it before sighing, “You’ve badly sprained it. I suggest trying not to move it around too much.” She begins to wrap Natasha’s arm and tying a sling around her shoulder. Patting her shoulder she repeated her suggesting of not moving the arm around too much and handing her something for the pain before moving onto the next person. She heard the doors swish open and looked up just in time to see Lana enter into the sickbay. The doctor already rushing around helping with the wounded gathered.

Stardate 2368.07.08
USS Discovery, main bridge - 0321
In the heat of the moment, was it really a bad thing to have a voice whispering in your ear? Rena didn't think so. Two in harmony surpasses one in perfection. She muttered under her breath, seemingly in a fast paced conversation with herself.

"- the sensor relays. If we triangulate impact trajectories -...- consider core power, are they targeting power sources? -...- sensing our sensors? Maybe-...-"

She wasn't listening to the ops officers. They knew how to make the most of the ship. It was Rena's position to figure out the what, if there was something that could be done with resources that wasn't immediately apparent. Salvage, improvise to run, or even turn the tide.

Yet the sensor readings weren't cooperating as she had hoped. Just how fast was this thing adapting to them? Rena typed at the console, trying to see how to articulate the sensor cycles into a stochastic system that even Ridley wouldn't be able to follow. Maybe if-

"Cancel red alert. Computer, cancel simulation."

Wait, what?

Rena stared as the console changed back to normal, nothing remaining of the chaos it was showing just seconds before. She blinked as her heart and mind stopped racing, slowing down enough to register what was said.

At that point, Blair was addressing everyone. The whole thing was a rather elaborate simulation. An exercise and drill.

Rena looked a bit flustered as she rubbed the back of her head. That was a good thing, right? No real danger, they were all okay, and things went, well, they'd find out how things went at eight hundred. Yet, the scientist in her was actually kind of disappointed. An actual hybridization of three technologies. The thought of studying something like that sent a shiver down her back. She took a breath and chuckled.

"That was an incredible exercise." She breathed, taking in a deep breath.

=/\\= Uzuki to Leiran, does this mean I should stop my simulation? =/\\=

Rena shook her head even though Shion wasn't there too see, "No, just put the simulation away for now and get some rest. I think I'd like to take a look at it later."

=/\\= Roger, Uzuki out. =/\\=

Speaking of other loose ends... Rena tapped her comm, "Leiran to Ridley, you probably guessed but you can put the sensor systems back into storage."

=/\\= I almost have one probe outfitted. Should I dismantle it? =/\\=

Rena shook her head again, "No, leave it for now. Just tidy up and store that one, though do make sure it is labelled correctly. Get some rest after."

=/\\= Okay ma'am, Ridley out. =/\\=

One thing left. Rena tapped her comm for the last time, "Leiran to Zohm, please return to the bridge to resume your shift."

=/\\= I'll be up in a moment, turbolifts are a bit crammed. =/\\=

Rena chuckled, "No rush. Leiran out."

Taking another breath, Rena rubbed at her forehead as she felt her body's adrenaline level dropping. In addition, coming down from the eur-bloody-eka state was almost as intense as reaching it, just in the opposite way. She could feel a hint of sadness as well. Either way, she was definitely going to need a cup of tea later.

Stardate 2368.07.08
USS Discovery, main bridge – 0321
"Captain!" Ensign Thorn exclaimed. "The port impulse engine is virtually unresponsive. Output well below half of optimality; we're a miracle short of stranded, I don't know that I can avoid further impacts."

Well, Chan-luv, Jack MacTavish found himself thinking even as he readied a wide and hopefully pulverizing spread of torpedoes targeted along the trajectory of the previous strike, Ef this’s ta be me punishment fer missin’ our ann’versary…
"Sir,” Lieutenant Graham interjected, “I recommend we shut it down, NOW, or we may lose half the ship!"


…I reckon et’s fittin’. His finger hovered over the ‘kill switch’ and he lifted his gaze, prepared to request permission to return fire…

"Captain, direct hit.” Graham again. “We've lost..."

A wee bit heavy-handed, per’aps, but fittin’… I love ye, apple-blossom…
“Sair,” Lt MacTavish said, but stopped the thought and the reques,t with the word ‘permission’ forming on his lips, when…

"Belay that, Lieutenant," the Captain said, rising from his seat.

"Cancel red alert. Computer, cancel simulation."

“Sim’lation?!” Mac couldn’t help but voice the thought; it had gotten too far to keep behind the teeth he had somehow managed to keep from clenching. “Fer th’ bloody luv o’…” His hand flew away from the torpedo control display and clamped onto the top edge of the Tactical Rim and a puff of air – a sigh, perhaps – blew past his pursed lips… “Chroist!”

=/\\=Affirmative. Simulation cancelled.=/\\=

The warnings ceased, the lights came back up to normal, and all instrument panels returned to nominal readouts. The viewscreen flashed for a moment, then reset to a slightly different display of nothing but empty space.

Blair paged the intercom; "Now hear this.

This is Captain Blair. Red alert has been cancelled. The preceding events were a drill. You may now return to your scheduled duties. That is all."

Och! Th’ Rug’s gotta be bloody pessed, don’e?
MacTavish let go of his hold on the Rim, pushing himself up into a rigid ‘at ease’ and, with what might have been either a snarl or a smile on his lips, trained his gaze on Blair.

"Thank you all for your participation. Senior staff, I would like to discuss my thoughts with you in the Observation Lounge at 0800. Until then, try to get some sleep."

“Aye, sair,” Mac rumbled, offering the Captain a faint nod along with the grin. He motioned Ensign Soileau back to the Primary and strode for the lift, passing by Blair along the way.

“…give my regards to Lieutenant N'doog. The simulation he created was very good - perhaps a bit too good. I had not expected the situation to become that grim so quickly. Regardless, I very much appreciate his efforts on this."

Aye, Mac smirked, Ef ye wan’ ta farg up a fight, bring a bloody pacifist, innit?
"Thank you, Commander," Noah was finishing his conversation with Commander Patanko. "Blair out."

“Yer a fargin’ haggis, Noah Blair,” Mac chuffed in a hushed toned intended for only the Captain’s ears, “gettin’ me pressure up an’ sech. But stone me ef tha’ weren’t a fookin’ brilliant sim’lation… sair.”

He flicked a wink at the man and added; “Chantelle’ll be thrilled ta hear she gets ta kell me herself, aye?”

With that, he continued to the lift, stepped in and ordered up a curt; “Deck 8. Tactical.”

I could use a coffee… an’ a bloody cigar, Mac mused as the door whisked shut.


((More coming... figured the bridge part was long enough on it's own... ))

Stardate 2368.07.08
USS Discovery, Bridge -0321
Jesse Graham had never been an evil or vicious man, but he now had bloody, uncontrolled rage throbbing in his head. First the wanton destruction at the Battle of Wolf 359, and now this. As he saw the bodies of his shipmates tumbling through the void, a bloody haze obscured his vision. I’ll find you, he raged. I’ll find ever’ last damn one of ya, and I’ll kill ya. I ain’t gonna rest ‘til ‘til I stomp yer heads into the trail dust. I’m gonna kill yer whole damn race! I’ll cut out yer heart and---
Jesse was pale and shaking with an uncontrollable rage; he knew his face had to be advertising his uncontrolled psychotic anger. Suddenly another hit rocked the ship, and Jesse’s readouts showed that the shields had failed completely. "Captain, direct hit! We've lost..."

Captain Blair cut his ops chief off. "Belay that, Lieutenant."

The Captain stood, then spoke in a measured tone. "Cancel red alert. Computer, cancel simulation."

=/\\=Affirmative. Simulation cancelled.=/\\= the computer responded. Instantly, the warnings ceased, the lights came back up to normal, and all instrument panels returned to nominal readouts. The viewscreen flashed for a moment, then reset to a slightly different display of nothing but empty space.

Jesse simply sat in silent shock as Blair announced the conclusion of the simulated attack. He vaguely caught Blair’s order for a morning staff meeting as the roaring in his ears slowly subsided. He shouted at himself in his own mind, I saw them! I SAW the bodies! They were REAL! even as his rational mind struggled to accept the fact that the past few minutes’ carnage had only been a simulation.

He struggled to keep his composure as his mind wailed Dear God, what’s happening to me?!
Fighting to keep it together, Jesse stood up on shaky legs and almost ran up the ramp to the turbolift. He saw the counselor staring at him as he passed, and avoided her eyes, suddenly afraid that she could see into his mind and soul and know the torment that was tearing him apart at that moment.

Stardate 2368.07.08
USS Dicovery, Lt. Jesse Graham’s Quarters - 0330
Jesse bypassed Sickbay completely, having forgotten about his hand. As he half-stumbled, half-ran into his quarters, a nightmarish and chaotic stream of memories and images roared through his mind: the ceiling of the bridge collapsing on him on the Liberator at Wolf 359; seeing the horrible energy of Borg weapons fire obliterating the mortal shells of friends and crewmates; looking down to see his broken and mangled body as he was evac’d from the Liberator by a med team from the Enterprise; pulling his captain’s body from under the rubble on the bridge, finding that once the captain’s torso appeared from under the smoking pile, that’s where his body ended; awakening later to see cybernetic limbs being positioned close to his body, and then noting with horror the reason for it, his arm and leg simply…gone; and again, seeing corpses of his Discovery crewmates sucked into the void, seeing the faces of some, twisted in horror and surprise…but that wasn’t real, was it? But I SAW it…I don’t know what’s real…please help me…
Jesse snatched up the bottle of vintage Jack Daniels from the shelf by the bed. He turned it up and guzzled desperately, trying to wash away the chaos. He drank until he began to choke, coughing and sputtering the golden liquid.

He sank to his knees. And he started screaming.

Stardate 2368.07.08
USS Discovery, Main Bridge – 0321 - 0331
Captain Blair cut his ops chief off. "Belay that, Lieutenant."

The Captain stood, then spoke in a measured tone. "Cancel red alert. Computer, cancel simulation."

=/\\\\=Affirmative. Simulation cancelled.=/\\\\= the computer responded. Instantly, the warnings ceased, the lights came back up to normal, and all instrument panels returned to nominal readouts. The viewscreen flashed for a moment, then reset to a slightly different display of nothing but empty space.

Next, Blair paged the intercom. "Now hear this," he spoke firmly. "This is Captain Blair. Red alert has been cancelled. The preceding events were a drill. You may now return to your scheduled duties. That is all."

With communication closed, Blair addressed the bridge crew. "Thank you all for your participation. Senior staff, I would like to discuss my thoughts with you in the Observation Lounge at 0800. Until then, try to get some sleep."
Serene blinked, one minute all was in chaos, hull breaches & intruder alerts, but now it was over. All just a simulation? She looked at Captain Blair as he exited the bridge as if he expected them all to just go back to their boring shift as if nothing had happened.

She glanced around at the stunned bridge crew; she sensed varying emotions emanating from them, confusion, anger, and a strong emotion of fear. She concentrated on the fear as it seemed out of place now that the simulation was over but this emotion only seemed to be increasing now.

Her head turned until her gaze came upon Lt Graham at his station. Yes that was where the fear came from and just before he turned to head to the turbolift she caught a glimpse of the man’s eyes; she saw terror mirrored there.

She rose to her feet but the turbolift doors closed behind the man before she could move to follow. She stood there a moment and looked around at everyone, heads were shaking but people were returning to their duties. She turned and strode into the turbolift.

“Computer,” she said once the door was closed, “location of Lt. Graham.”

=/\\\\=Lt. Graham is in his quarters=/\\\\=

“Take me there.”

Stepping out of the turbolift she stepped out and got her bearing and then strode down the hallway which was empty at the moment, most people still at their battle stations having yet returned to their beds. She paused as she thought she heard someone scream, it was faint, but just maybe. She hurried along the passage unt8il she came to Lt. Graham’s quarters; there she paused to listen but didn’t hear the scream immediately repeated. She pressed the call button next to the doorplate.

“Lt. Graham?” she said aloud, “it is Counselor Markus… Serene. May I come in?”

Stardate 2368.07.08
USS Discovery, enroute to deck 20 private quarters - 0400

Tasha blinked it might have been the meds or the adrenaline from earlier, but she could have sworn she had heard the captain say it had all been an elaborate sim op. after a moment it finally sunk in, THAT was a sim! Dear lord what would real like have been like? Part of her was ragging that it had been some elaborate hoax on the entire unsuspecting crew, yet part of her had to give the caption kudos for a simulated trial by fire. She on one had had seemed to have failed miserably.


Tasha giggled as she staggered into her quarters, kicking the bobbles, bolts and tools from beneath her feet. it had been a while since she had felt this way. collage and a multiple cocktail of assorted drugs at a rave. She probably should have mentioned her low tolerance to meds, drink like a fish she could but drugs always seemed to hit her hard. she grinned to herself leaning against the wall as she slid her way to her bed sinking down and pulling the blankets over her head as the room rocked and spun. Tasha hoped their wouldn't be another sim cause she was defiantly going to have to sleep the meds off, clean up would have to wait.

Stardate 2368.07.08
USS Discovery, main bridge – 0321
John stood waiting for Lt. MacTavish’s response but the his request was answered from LT. Graham.
"Captain, direct hit.” …………..“We've lost..."

“Sair,”

"Belay that, Lieutenant," the Captain said, rising from his seat.

The Security Office turned his attention to the Captain as he took in the conversation in the room.

"Cancel red alert. Computer, cancel simulation."


“Sim’lation?!” …….“Fer th’ bloody luv o’…” … “Chroist!”

=/\\\\=Affirmative. Simulation cancelled.=/\\\\=

The warnings ceased, the lights came back up to normal, and all instrument panels returned to nominal readouts. The viewscreen flashed for a moment, then reset to a slightly different display of nothing but empty space.

"Now hear this………This is Captain Blair. Red alert has been cancelled. The preceding events were a drill. You may now return to your scheduled duties. That is all."

Taking in the sense of the events the Chief of Security felt a wave of relief wash over his even as the buzz of adrenalin still coursed through him.

"Thank you all for your participation. Senior staff, I would like to discuss my thoughts with you in the Observation Lounge at 0800. Until then, try to get some sleep."

“Aye, sair,……….give my regards to Lieutenant N'doog. The simulation he created was very good - perhaps a bit too good. I had not expected the situation to become that grim so quickly. Regardless, I very much appreciate his efforts on this.”


"Thank you, Commander,………."Blair out."

John was standing close enough to hear the hush comments of the Senior Officer.

“Yer a fargin’ haggis, Noah Blair,…………………gettin’ me pressure up an’ sech. But stone me ef tha’ weren’t a fookin’ brilliant sim’lation… sair…………………..Chantelle’ll be thrilled ta hear she gets ta kell me herself, aye?”
Without looking back to John Mac stepped into lift, “Deck 8. Tactical.”

The bridge cleared of the senior officers and returned the watch to their juniors. It was then that John realized his man was missing. He was about to question Lt. Ames when a short stocky balding young man stumbled out of the head.

Blood stained the collar of his uniform where a gash above his right temple had left a crimson track down the side of his face. The Ensign braced himself as he made his way to the duty station. In a shaky voice he addressed Lt. Reid, “ Sir…I’m sorry I was off station… I was in the …head….. the first shock ..uh…threw me ..well … I’ll clean the blood on floor….. is everything secure Sir?” Ensign Charlie Parker rocked a little as he tried to look calm.

John looked at the junior officer, ”Chuck, your injured, report to sickbay, you stand relieved, now get yourself patched up. We’ll debrief later.” The Ensign Parker nodded and left the bridge.

Flipping on the comm. John called down, “Chief, have the Team Leaders file response reports to me by 600 hours, I want their analysis of theirs teams. “ Switching “Ensign LaRue to the Bridge.”

John nodded to Ops Officer as he manned the Tactical Rim.

Stardate 2368.07.08
USS Discovery, Ruea's Quarters - 0335
"How are you holding up?" Leiran asked as she sat in an armchair. She let her body relax a bit, listening to the many water features active in Ruea's room.

"Not as bad as I thought I'd be." Ruea replied honestly, carefully adding ingredients to the two tea bags in front of her, "When the alert went off I was worried, but Merrows and Aqua were calm, and that helped me be calm too. What a relief that was a drill. If that was a real encounter-"

Leiran chuckled weakly, "Yeah, didn't look like it was going to end well."

Using an archaic heater, Ruea brought some water to a boil, and poured the two cups, before setting them aside to steep for a bit. Eventually the light scent of lemon began to permeate through the room. At that point, Ruea gave one of the cups to Leiran, keeping the other for herself as she sat opposite Leiran.

Taking a sip, Leiran let out a soft sigh, "I needed this. You're quite good at brewing tea."

Ruea fidgeted a bit as she sipped from her own cup, "Lt Mihari said the same thing. She asked if she could learn at some point."

Leiran chuckled, "That doesn't surprise me. She'll probably pick up your recipe quite quickly. She is a rather visual person."

Ruea nodded, "I hope so. With any luck she'll get better than me."

"Hm," Leiran tilted her head a bit, before taking another sip, "Doesn't seem like we get much opportunity to do this."

Ruea nodded, "Well things have been getting busier. You have your research, the whole department to look after, and I have Aqua and Merrows to look after."

"I think I should try to free some time for this, we haven't really had much opportunity to relax like this since university." Leiran thought aloud.

Ruea chuckled, "As long as you don't start getting addicted to my tea. That would not be a good thing." She joked.

"Nonsense, it's all natural and good for the nerves." Leiran countered, chuckling as well.

After sharing a second cup of tea, the two friends called it a night. After all, shift began again in only a few hours...

Stardate 2368.07.08
USS Discovery, main bridge – 0321
Intently re-running the diagnosis on the thrusters yet again, seeking something he had misread to allow them to escape the dire situation, Thorn was first shocked and then relieved to watch the numbers shift back to nominal levels. The Captain’s reveal, though startling, was like a weight off the young Ensign’s shoulders; the ship was not lost – he hadn’t navigated into some horrible trap.

His panic dissipating, Thorn mused that the ship-wide simulation was at such a scale compared to Zavaleta’s training flight-sims that he had truly believed they were in hot water. However, everyone had acted the way they should in such an emergency; leading him to believe there was likely an evaluation of sorts to come, especially considering the way the CFCO normally did for the smaller sims.

Looking up at the aFCO who was still breathing heavily, Thorn was about to speak when the Operations Officer practically stormed out of his seat and off the bridge. Sparing a moment to stare after him, Thorn’s gaze shifted back to the aFCO.

“Sir. I should be fit to fly for the remainder.”

Hopefully the rest of his shift was uneventful.

Stardate 2368.07.08
USS Discovery, main bridge – 0321
Lieutenant Scofield was less than amused. She had rushed halfway across the ship from one simulation to another, and it left her feeling rather foolish. She wanted to blow something up, to vent her anger, but that would involve even more simulations. Even as the Captain was finishing his crew address her frustration began to turn to annoyed speculation; Zavaleta was likely in on it, some elaborate ruse to help test his staff under stress – poor Thorn. The CFCO wasn’t going to get away without getting chewed out for this…

At least that was Scofield’s plan, until the Captain made his next move; he contacted the doctor. Overhearing that the CMO was actually checking on Zavaleta, Scofield felt horrid for her suspicions; she needed to walk away from this situation.

It seemed she wasn’t alone in that sentiment; the Chief Operations officer stormed past her, leaving her dumb-struck by his haste.

“Sir. I should be fit to fly for the remainder.” Thorn was more resilient than she had given credit for.

“Carry on Ensign. Good work.”

As she headed towards the turbolift, Scofield debated a drink; she’d had enough simulations for one night.