Stardate 2365.02.09 (Tuesday - 42137.6)
USS Peregrine; Deck 4 - Sickbay - 15:30
Level 3 Diagnostics complete. Results: Database integrity secure. No Data tampering or loss detected.
For the third time in the short period since he discovered the error, Crewman Toriak raised his eyebrows. Looking up from the screen, he scans the semi-circular room but Dana is no where to be seen. Such a small thing for the woman to overlook, Toriak tilts his head to the side a bit and pulls up the inner-ship communication system. Keying in a couple of commands he activates the direct line to Cook's communicator.

"Chief Cook," he intones.

Chief PO Dana Cook had just left the Brig where she was visiting her friend; supposedly for a medical check up, but she had also wanted to check on her friend's mental condition as well. Chief—no, Petty Officer—Crane had received a tremendous shock with the consequences of her actions, but Dana thought she would get though it alright in the end. Dana paused and leaned against the wall for a moment, she looked up and down the hallway and gave her head a slight shake as if to clear her mind. For a moment she didn't know where she was headed. She could go back to Sickbay, but Miraan had taken over the rest of her shift, since her own shift was starting right afterwards. So Dana wasn't sure where she was going now.

=/\=Cook here.=/\= Dana said as she straightened herself and glanced around to see if anyone had seen her leaning against the wall, but there was no one else in the corridor at the moment.

"It would appear that you have not completed your mandatory medical examination for this latest period. Would you like for me to schedule it?"

There's an uncharacteristic pause causing Crewman Toriak to wonder for a moment if his message had been received.

=/\=Are you sure Crewman?=/\= she replies.

"I have performed a diagnostic check on the data's integrity, Chief," Toriak responds flatly. "There is no doubt."

=/\=Well, I'm positive that Doctor Synklar performed my physical just three months ago=/\= Dana says trying to keep the tremor from her voice. =/\=Perhaps she just forgot to log it into the system. Well, no matter, the new CMO has ordered updated physicals on the entire crew, so it will get rectified properly. Don't worry about scheduling me right now, we'll get the rest of the crew done prior to the medical staff.=/\=

"Affirmative, Chief. Have a good remainder of the day." Orders in hand, Toriak gives the situation no more consideration that to log his conversation in the personnel file notes. Concern for the integrity of data has been resolved and he returns to his methodical records work. There are a number of additional crewmen and officers that need their physicals performed. Doctor Moore definitely has a full schedule for the next number of days. The Vulcan crewman cannot fathom how she can complete the task before the ship arrives at the summit.

Scanning the list of personnel who have yet to make an appointment for their physical, Toriak quickly comes across more names with which to engage.

"Crewman Toriak to Chief Berk," he calls in his monotone tenor.

(OCC: Assuming a response.)

"Doctor Moore has requested full physicals for all of the crew. Our records show that you have yet to schedule an appointment. Would you like for me to schedule one now?"

(OOC: Answer pending.)

Stardate 2365.02.09 (Tuesday - 42137.6)
USS Peregrine; Deck 2 - Officer's Quarters (Ensign Maize's Quarters) - 18:27
Shoulder length blonde hair mussed and tangled from a rough towel treatment after a quick sonic shower and wrapped in a simple Starfleet issued bathrobe, Dalia settles on her neatly made bed with a PADD in hand. Dinner can wait until after she takes care of some personal things, things that the duties taking up her time during Alpha shift shunt to the side out of necessity.

First priority is personal communication and that means the excitement of news from home. The video recordings are fun and lift her spirits as they usually do, and even more exciting is the holodeck program included of her adopted mother's birthday celebration. Dalia quickly schedules time in the holodeck before turning to her replies. She leaves the majority of the details concerning her duties out, sharing mostly her thoughts on her new superior officer, the situation surrounding Lauren, and some speculation on the strange transfers. Nothing that would overly concern her family but life aboard the Peregrine and enough information to keep them satisfied.

After she resolves the familial communication the ensign turns to the personal ship communication she's received. Ensign Jenneric wants to shift their regularly scheduled tennis match by a half hour. Not a problem. That would actually work in Dalia's favor seeing how Vaela message asks her to breakfast that same day. Quick and friendly replies issued and Ensign Maize thumbs through her industry specific editorials and selects one on the Biomechanics of the Cardassian Pel'op'ech and with a swipe moved the article to an audio reading format.

Dropping the PADD to the now slightly wrinkled blue blanket bearing the Starfleet insignia, Dalia Springs youthfully up and makes her way to the mirror. Pressing into the top right corner of the drawer beneath it opens the storage with a chirp from the computer to accompany it. While the voice of renowned biomechanic, Dr. Angelo Polanski, informs her of the impact his study of the elusive Cardassian marsupial could have on the Federation's understanding of Cardassian physiology, Dalia Maize prepares herself for an evening spent socializing in the Aerie.

Now dressed in a casual mint green blouse with dark gray slacks over stylish black high heeled boots accented by a thick black belt hanging loosely on her hips, Dalia orders the report to pause, bookmarking her position. Make-up done, hair pulled back in a neat pleat at the back of her head with a dark green stone barrette, she eyes herself briefly in the mirror once more. Not a thing she is wearing compliments the strange purple of her eyes and that's just the way she wants it.

Striding from her quarters with renewed vigor that only a shower and making oneself look pretty can provide after a long day at work, the second officer of the Peregrine's science department heads for the social mecca of the ship.

Stardate 2365.02.09 (Tuesday - 42137.6)
USS Peregrine; Deck 5, Gym - 1810

"I'm sorry, sometimes I get started and I canna stop."
John let out a laugh and slapped Haemis on the shoulder. "I'm honored you are comfortable enough with me to not fear speaking your mind...and don't worry, old Captain Grumpy Pants will never hear a word from me. Now let's grab some grub and I'll tell you about me time on the Mandela.

(Short but still a post. There is still life in this bird.)

Stardate 2365.02.11
USS Peregrine, Bridge - 1030

OOC: I'm breaking some normal rules by putting words in a few characters' mouths. Please forgive me, but I'd like this game to return to normal operation seamlessly, and I'm not quite sure yet which players are planning to join us. If you have objections, we can of course edit.

Though his outward expression remained stoic, Silas felt a small tremor of exhilaration - perhaps even of apprehension - as the Peregrine fell out of warp. The momentary shudder of the ship culminated with an explosion of details on the viewscreen as the Sabre class vessel returned to normal space.

Judging from the size of the asteroids in the viewscreen, they had come out of warp a bit closer to the summit site than the crew had intended - and, if he were being honest, a bit closer than Silas would have preferred. The massively extensive asteroid field just screamed "textbook ambush" to Drake, and he would have preferred to have had a better look before approaching so close. But there was little to be done about that now.

"Mister Lasad," the Captain spoke, "give me a full sensor analysis of the surrounding area, paying special attention to the asteroid field."

The handsome operations chief nodded as his fingers flew across his console. "Aye, sir."

"Mister Berk," Drake spoke again, "I want a full breakdown on the disposition of all vessels within sensor range in this system." For the briefest of instants, the tactical chief's gaze met the Captain's before glancing at the ambassadors for an additional split second. The unspoken request by Silas was to determine any potential threats by the Kuldar or Rytain forces, though saying so out loud would of course be considered offensive.

Berk clearly knew what Silas was looking for, however. "Aye, sir," he acknowledged before working on his own console.

"Tochi," the Captain began, "set a course for the rendezvous point, bring us in at one quarter impulse."

The Trill was all business, as was to be expected. "Aye sir," he replied. "Course laid in, engaging impulse engines now."

As the data began to roll in, Silas felt another shiver. "Here we are," he spoke quietly, to no one in particular. "Here's to hope and peace."

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

Stardate 2365.02.11
KDF Stormspike, Bridge - 1035

Tactical Officer Gullen looked up from his console. "Captain," he spoke, "the Federation vessels have arrived in system and are en route. ETA is fifteen minutes to desired range."

The Captain nodded seriously. "Brothers," he spoke to the small crew, "the moment of our glory has arrived. History will not know our names, but the victory of our people will be built on what we do here today. Strike hard, strike fast, create chaos among them. If we do our duty, we will assure the eventual victory that we so richly deserve against these scum."

He gazed around the room, a serene expression on his face. Raising a fist, he spoke one final time. "Strength and honor."

The handful of crew raised their own fists in reply. "Strength and honor," came the chorus of replies.

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

Stardate 2365.02.11
USS Peregrine, Bridge - 1050

The Peregrine cleared the asteroid field without incident to reveal the greenish ball of Gamera III, with Gyaos Station - the actual location of the summit - appearing as a small shadow orbiting in front of it. As was fully expected, fleets from both the Rytain and Kuldar had taken up formations in opposing points. While both peoples seemed to follow similar philosophies - ships smaller than even the Peregrine, with crew compliments of probably twenty or fewer (largely due to the fact that neither people had much cause for deep space missions) - there were certainly different design aesthetics at play. The Rytain vessels were constructed of a alloy with a gleaming silver color, and were pointed, yet flowing, in appearance. The Kuldar ships, on the other hand, were much darker in color - a flat, dark gray - with a stubby, thick design.

Sensor data revealed that both fleets were comprised of the newest technology that each people had to offer; this was also no surprise. Neither faction would stomach the slightest loss of face, and neither would dream of deploying outdated, inferior vessels to this important meeting.

Gyaos Station had been signaled, and the two Federation vessels were locked into approach vectors for docking, when suddenly, the excrement hit the air distribution device.

An audible alarm sounded, jostling Drake from his thoughts. "Captain," Berk's voice rang out. "An unidentified vessel has just decloaked near the Rytainian fleet, and is on an intercept vector with them! Range, four hundred twenty thousand kilometers. Heading one hundred forty degrees, mark one one five."

The TAC officer's voice was tight. "Sir, they appear to be charging weapons."

Silas felt the surge of adrenaline hit him like a wall of electricity. "Red alert!" He barked. "Shields up! Bring our own weapon systems online, and prepare to fire."

Why would a lone vessel execute an attack like this? he wondered internally. And a cloaked vessel, at that? Certainly, this was technology far beyond the Kuldar or the Rytain.

"I want that ship onscreen, and give me a sensor breakdown of it right now," the Captain ordered. "Open hailing frequencies," he continued, his own voice clipped.

"Attention, unidentified vessel," he began in a stern tone as the viewscreen shifted to a magnified view of the aggressor. "This is Commander Silas Drake of the USS Peregrine. I hereby order you to..."

"Captain, they are firing disruptors!" Berk interjected. At that moment, purplish energy bolts ripped out from the decloaked ship and slammed into two of the Rytain ships.

Stardate: 2365.02.011
USS Peregrine, Bridge - 1040

Haemis strolled into the engine room with a couple of Padd's in one hand and a travel mug in the other. He stopped as he entered observing the vessels warp core suddenly change octets and reduce in cycles. He crossed the rest of the distance to the pool table and stopped taking a quick glance over the readings and nodded. He noted they had dropped out of Warp normally so they must have reached their destination he figured, he could see the change in power output to the impulse drive happen as he started to walk past the table and into his office. More like a closet he mused to himself, but it was a thing. He deposited the padd's on his desk and took a moment to savor a quick drink of liquid caffeine.

"Hey chief." A voice called his attention, and he turned to meet his assistants gaze.

"Wha can I do for ye?" he asked taking another drink.

She held out another Padd to him which Haemis took and brought up the information. "I was thinking we could take some time later in the week to work on that faulty sensor pallet on the port side, that Wide-angle EM radiation imaging scanner is still acting up!"

He nodded. "Right, I'll run it by the Exec when I have the opportunity just to make sure we can take the thing offline and it won't bother the science department. Donna wanna cause a tiff." He said nodding.

Haemis was opening his mouth to speak when the vessels Red Alert Klaxon began blaring and the vessel began switching power distribution profiles for combat. "Station!" he said pointing. He took only a moment to leave his mug behind as he moved out into the engine room and came to stand next to the pool table. His Engineering crew began going through their routine. "Caity, keep an eye on Damage Control, I'll work power distribution." He said moving around to one of the consoles.

She simply nodded, and moved to take up a position opposite of him. "Isn't this supposed to be a diplomatic missions?" she said glancing up.

He nodded looking up to meet her eyes. "Aye lass, appears that they are about to turn aggressive. Let's be ready for the damage to start rolling in." She nodded and turned her attention back to the console. He glanced around as the rest of his team came running and jogging into the engine room taking up their stations related to their focus. "Tis time to shine." He muttered to himself. He took a moment to send a signal to the bridge indicating that Engineering was 'manned and ready'.

Stardate 2365.02.11 (Thursday - 42143.7)
USS Peregrine; Deck 1 - Main Bridge - 10:30

Stomach lurching. False sense of gravitational pull. The Peregrine leaves warp. Asovil has never enjoyed this part of space travel. Focusing on the console in front of her, the blue-skinned beauty scans the data rapidly flowing down the screen. Radio, microwave, and infrared spectroscopy results read normal with slightly higher metallic and mineral base compounds. Slender fingers fly across the controls of the bridge Science Station activating a standard Level 7 scan of their immediate space for potential hazardous materials. Without looking at the large viewscreen, Lt. Sh'iraolnas knows from the readings that they are close to large bodies of mineral-based objects and concludes asteroids. Asteroids are the breeding grounds of all kinds of space chemicals and many strange mineral compounds, but in most cases they have been studied to oblivion and back. The Ferengi specifically liked asteroid belts for their potential profit and her own people, the Andorians, are just as likely to mine asteroids as the more diminutive species. Still, Asovil is thorough and the least amount of energy expenditure she can manage while still performing her duties is the Level 7 scan.

"Mister Lasad," the Captain begins, "give me a full sensor analysis of the surrounding area, paying special attention to the asteroid field."

The handsome operations chief nods as his fingers fly across his console. "Aye, sir."

Without being asked, Lt. Sh'iraolnas adjusts her current scan to amplify the operations officer's. She eyeballs the information as it compiles and chews on the inside of her bottom lip in concentration.

"Mister Berk," Drake speaks again, "I want a full breakdown on the disposition of all vessels within sensor range in this system."

Berk responds from his seat. "Aye, sir."

"Tochi," the Captain continues and for a moment Asovil's heart leaps in her chest at the name, "set a course for the rendezvous point, bring us in at one quarter impulse."

The Trill, all business, promptly replies. "Aye sir. Course laid in, engaging impulse engines now."

"Here we are," the captain's voice was quiet and yet carried clear enough in the confines of the bridge. "Here's to hope and peace."

Two days have passed since her lunch with Tochi. They had both managed very little time away from their duties during that time. Asovil's department is still in a shambles with a crewman in sickbay recovering from chemical burns that were so horrible the science officer still see's them when she closes her eyes. Ensign Maize's thorough and persistent investigation (assisted by PO 2nd Class Zhang) has only unveiled the delivery of a mysterious container that is nowhere to be found. Rogers, though awake, has nothing to add except a rather haughty opinion that he did nothing wrong. Ansovil's analysis of the data from the Chem Lab scan has rendered a dead end as well and the whole investigation is now on hold due to the summit.

Frustration at the lack of answers and the delay into discovery rises in the young Andorian's stomach requiring her to force the feelings down with an effort that would have been visible if any could see her face. Focus on the data, she mentally chides and returns to the scan's results.

Cyanogen radical, hydrogen chloride, sulfur monohydride, were she being honest with herself, she would have to admit that she is just as frustrated with the lack of time afforded her and Tochi in their burgeoning relationship. Two days since the last time they had been able to spend any time together! It seems like an eternity or at least a couple of months, not just two days. Even since being on the bridge for Alpha shift, she has done all she can do not to turn and seek his gaze. Carbon dioxide readings are normal, HCP is good, of course, Tochi has been busy with his duties and the closer to the summit they came, the more Drake sought his closest advisor's consultation. Not to mention the amount of time that the handsome Trill had to spend entertaining the visiting delegations. With the Science department being really nothing more than an afterthought on this escort vessel, the lieutenant has found a rather large lack of interaction with the other senior officers.

There's a slightly lower reading of H2S, but that could be because of their proximity to the asteroids. Punching in a command, Asovil watches as the possible reasons for low hydrogen sulfide are relayed. Nothing alarming. Nothing to bring to anyone's attention.

The Peregrine clears the asteroid field without incident to reveal the greenish ball of Gamera III, with Gyaos Station - the actual location of the summit - appearing as a small shadow orbiting in front of it. As is fully expected, fleets from both Rytain and Kuldar had taken up formations at opposing points.

Sensor data reveals that both fleets are comprised of the newest technology that each people has to offer; this is also no surprise. Neither faction will stomach the slightest loss of face, and neither will dream of deploying outdated, inferior vessels to this important meeting.

Gyaos Station is hailed and the two Federation vessels are locked into approach vectors for docking when suddenly, the excrement hit the air distribution device.

An audible alarm sounds and Asovil nearly jumps out of her skin. Glancing over her shoulder, she looks to Tactical just as Berk's voice rings out. "Captain! An unidentified vessel has just decloaked near the Rytainian fleet and is on an intercept vector with them! Range, four hundred twenty thousand kilometers. Heading one hundred forty degrees, mark one one five." The TAC officer's voice is tight. "Sir, they appear to be charging weapons."

Asovil's fingers deftly fly across the science station's controls bringing up a different set of screens and additional commands. A portion of her screen is dedicated to the position of the new ship, also showing the space station and the Rytainian and Kularian diplomatic fleets.

"Red alert!" Captain Drake barks. "Shields up! Bring our own weapon systems online, and prepare to fire. I want that ship on-screen, and give me a sensor breakdown of it right now," the Captain orders.

Lt. Sh'iraolnas is already running a Level 5 scan. She's not tactical, but being Andorian and Imperial Guard trained, she has a few tricks up her sleeve when it comes to combat. Beginning the command sequence, she adjusts the Tachyon sensor to output and directs the component to target the new space vessel.

"Open hailing frequencies," Drake continues, his own voice clipped.

"Attention, unidentified vessel," he states in a stern tone as the viewscreen shifts to a magnified view of the aggressor. "This is Commander Silas Drake of the USS Peregrine. I hereby order you to..."

"Captain, they are firing disruptors!" Berk interjects. At that moment, purplish energy bolts ripped out from the decloaked ship and slammed into two of the Rytain ships.

Nothing in the mission briefing had given any indication of a third race that stood to gain from the continued war between these two peoples. In the back of her brilliant mind, Asovil considers the possibility of Klingon mercenaries, or Romulans with their cloaking, then her father's stories of the Ferengi doing whatever they could to gain profit and how much profit a war could generate slipped into the line-up. Whoever they are--Asovil punches in the last command and watches the system begin to fire up--they are a threat to the success of the mission and the Andorian cannot abide that.

Waiting for the correct time to discharge the tachyon beam, the science officer intently watches the distance between the ships. The beam will lessen the enemy ship's shield efficiency and after that, she has another card to play that will keep their cloaking device inoperable while playing games with their shields. Her antennaes twitch as she considers the likelihood of them seeking to cloak and escape. They are much weaker than anything here, her deep indigo eyes flit across the sensor data collected on the ship. They came here to die.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Stardate 2365.02.11 (Thursday - 42143.7)
USS Peregrine; Deck 4 - Sickbay - 10:50
Crewman Toriak raises his eyebrows. The sounding alarm is not something he expected. A notification appears on the station screen in front of him indicating an attacking vessel. It is all that he needs to shift his focus from updating the records of a number of crewmen who had just finished their physicals to preparing for injured personnel.

Approaching the wall and opening the storage bins, the Vulcan produces a medical tricorder which he attaches to his utility belt. Taking up a hypospray, he grabs a satchel of canisters with painkillers and also attaches these to his belt. There are certified nurses here at sickbay who will address the needs of personnel brought in. Toriak's job in such situations is to seek out the wounded who cannot make it to sickbay and stabilize them until they can be transported. Until such a time as he is needed, he calmly returns to his duties inputting record data.


------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Stardate 2365.02.11 (Thursday - 42143.7)
USS Peregrine; Deck 4 - Science Lab - 10:50
Ensign Dalia Maize looks up at the ceiling as the klaxon blares, her heart leaping into her chest. Engrossed in her work (neglected out of necessity due to the frustrating investigation into Roger's accident) she experiences a moment of discombobulation before realizing that they must be close to the summit site now and--Yes, we're out of warp.--they have encountered trouble.

On a scout vessel such as the Peregrine, Science personnel are only in the way anywhere other than their quarters or the science stations. It always unnerves her to be so reliant on others for her safety, but she is not a soldier and has never desired to be one. Even as other personnel seek to train in hand-to-hand combat during their required exercise blocks, Dalia prefers spending time mountain climbing on the holodeck, or hiking, or even jogging. Feeling the inside of a suddenly dry mouth, she wonders if she will get the chance to do any of those again and deliberately returns to her work.

"Don't think about it," she mutters. "Don't even think about it."


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

Stardate 2365.02.11 (Thursday - 42143.7)
USS Peregrine; Deck 5 - Security Department - 17:45
Petty Officer 2nd Class Da Zheng leaps up from his chair at the clanging alarm and rushes towards the weapons locker. Drill after drill after drill has turned this motion into muscle memory. Phaser to the belt, phaser rifle in hand. Turning from the locker, the young Asian immediately rushes out the door. He's assigned to the safety of the Kuldar delegation and he's determined to see that they are safe.

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Stardate 2365.02.11 (Thursday - 42143.7)
USS Peregrine; Deck 5 - Brig - 10:50
Lauren Crane's head jerks to look out of the energy field of her cell. She's alone. There's no need for a guard and there has only been one or two occasions where anyone from security has found it necessary to spend any time in the brig office over the past two days. Aside from meals and visits from Cook under the pretense of medical care, she has been alone for two days. And this is only three days into her punishment.

Blinking rapidly, she considers the possible reasons behind the alarm that has startled her and set her heart racing. They have to be close to the summit as she had felt them come out of warp. Peace talks wouldn't require the ship to come in hot, Would it? she wondered. Hugging her knees to her chest, the diminutive woman frowns into her pant legs and let's her imagination run wild.

Stardate 2365.02.11 (Thursday - 42143.7)
USS Peregrine; Deck 4 - Sickbay - 10:50

Chief Dana Cook looked up from where she sat at her desk and locked eyes with PO Adama who was the medical person currently on-call as the Red Alert klaxon went off. He only nodded to her and moved to the med cabinet as she stood and tapped her comm badge.


=/\= Chief Cook to all Medical Personnel =/\= She paused briefly as the computer routed her call to the proper crew, =/\= Report to Sickbay immediately! =/\=


She cut the channel not waiting for a reply, as the only reply would be that they were en route. She would normally assume that here medical staff would know what to do, but she had so many new ones, she thought it prudent to instruct them this time, since she hadn't yet gone over Sickbay Emergency procedures.


She turned and saw Crewman Toriak loading up his medkit and then returning to his records office, while PO Adama was setting out kits for others. It didn't take long, less than 3 minutes, before all of her nursing staff were present and she began to direct them who would handle what, in the case of any injured personnel.


Cook watched the new nurses tending to their assigned tasks; she nodded as she saw little to condemn them. They were all performing well so far, she waited to pass full judgement until she saw them in an actual medical crisis. Chief Cook left them to prepping the medical equipment, checking the med bed stations, and returned to her desk where she would monitor any request for medical assistance. She hit a button that sent a signal to the bridge letting them know that Medical was Reporting Staffed and Ready!

Stardate 2365.02.11
USS Peregrine; Deck 1 - Bridge - 1030

The CONN chirped and Tochi's cool fingers instinctively slid across the console, keying in the sequence to bring the Peregrine out of warp. As expected, the ship gave a little buck and shudder as it dropped out of subspace and the viewscreen before him resolved to display a number of slowly rolling and tumbling asteroids ahead of the Saber-class vessel.

"Frill," Lt Zai muttered the curse under his breath as his gaze swept screen and console, gauging their proximity to the asteroid field. That's a bit closer drop-in than we had intended, the Trill chided himself even as he cued the RCS thrusters to compensate, and, certainly, much closer than Silas is likely comfortable with, Where is your head, Tochi?

It was a rhetorical question, of course. In the past days, his mind had been occupied by numerous concerns, the least of those, unfortunately, being his own navigational abilities. His duties as XO had taken precedence - divvying his time between entertaining the ambassadors and consulting with the Captain while still managing to keep up with the various departmental issues that had arisen - and, following close in the wake of those tasks, had been his attention to his own Flight Control department's needs. Closer still, were the concerns which had been birthed out of the interactions between the Ambassadors during the reception and, as a result, the communiques he had engaged in with Lt Commander Farr aboard the Coronado in that regard. Very little had come of those conversations, to be honest, but, still, something regularly gnawed at him from a dark and suspicious corner of his mind. And, liberally peppering all of that had been the budding relationship between Asovil and himself.

"Mister Lasad," the Captain ordered, "give me a full sensor analysis of the surrounding area, paying special attention to the asteroid field."

"Aye, sir," the OPS Chief responded as Tochi was plotting a course through that very field.

"Mr Berk; I want a full breakdown on the disposition of all vessels within sensor range in this system."

"Aye, sir," the CTO acknowledged.

"Tochi," Drake said, then, "set a course for the rendezvous point. Bring us in at one quarter impulse."

"Aye, sir," the Trill answered with a final scan of the astrometric feeds and nav-plots, "Course laid in, engaging impulse engines now." His had drifted to the upper right of the CONN and tapped in the requisite command sequence. The Peregrine moved forward and Tochi sat at the ready to make any adjustments that might be necessary as she entered the asteroid field.

"Here we are," the Captain's voice uttered quietly, "Here's to hope and peace."

A soft sigh whispered past Tochi's lips as he eased the ship toward whatever may lie ahead. We can always hope, he mused, but we can never assume.
He allowed his gaze, ever so subtly, to slip away from the viewer and CONN displays and, for a brief instant, settle on Asovil where she stood at the Science Console. Over these past days, the very sight, the very thought of her had come to coax a smile to tug at the corners of his mouth and prompt a particular fluttering in his heart, so he didn't allow his gaze to linger too long lest it become a distraction in this moment. Tochi had hopes where the Peregrine's CSO was concerned, as well, but, unfortunately, had had very little time to cultivate and nurture those hopes beyond these occasional glances, Perhaps when this is over, he couldn't help but grin before forcing his attentions back to the task at hand, we'll be relegated back to a patrol detail and time will make itself, We can always hope.

Stardate 2365.02.11
USS Peregrine; Deck 1 - Bridge - 1050

Despite the misgivings Silas might have had about potential ambushes that may have awaited within - and surely that's where the Captain's mind had been when they dropped out of warp - the Peregrine emerged unscathed, some twenty minutes later, on the other side of the asteroid field. Another sigh escaped Lt Zai, then, and, after checking his displays to verify the Coronado's position, he allowed himself another fleeting glance at Asovil as he turned his head to announce; "Peregrine and Coronado clear of the asteroids, Captain. Continuing on course to Gyaos Station; one quarter impulse."

((OOC: Assuming no orders to adjust course or velocity at this point,))

Moments later, the console flashed an indication letting him know that Coronado's helm had initiated docking protocols with the station in orbit of Gamera III, Tochi eased the Peregrine's engines down a fraction to allow the Miranda-class to slip ahead and, in keeping with their escort duties, assumed a rear-guard position before hailing the station himself. He tapped the console to his right, connecting to the station's Approach Control Center; "Gyaos Station Approach Control; USS Peregrine requesting lock-on."

=/\=Lock-on acknowledged, Peregrine,=/\= came the reply, =/\=You are cleared for approach to Docking Pylon Three. Transmitting approach vector.=/\=

"Copy, Control. Approach vector received," Zai said, drawing down power from the impulse engines as he maneuvered the ship toward the specified docking point, "On approach, Pylon Three." Once aligned, Tochi prepared to further reduce impulse power and began sequencing the RCS systems, Just then, an alarm chirruped from the TAC station, forestalling the Trill's practiced docking procedures even before the hairs on the back of his neck raised.

"Captain," Berk's voice rang out. "An unidentified vessel has just decloaked near the Rytainian fleet, and is on an intercept vector with them! Range, four hundred twenty thousand kilometers. Heading one hundred forty degrees, mark one one five."

The TAC officer's voice was tight. "Sir, they appear to be charging weapons."

"Frillin' sons-of," the remainder of Tochi's curse was muted by the frantic beeping from his own console as he hurriedly brought the impulse engines back up to power and began maneuvering the Peregrine into an intercept course based on Berk's report.

"Red alert," Drake barked, "Shields up! Bring our own weapons systems online and prepare to fire!"

Lt Zai pulled a mirror from TAC to his own console and, keeping a close eye to the data streaming from Berk's, adjusted his course to provide optimum firing position. How in the frill did a Kuldaran ship get a cloak, he wondered. This isn't right,
"I want that ship onscreen, and give me a sensor breakdown of it right now," the Captain ordered. "Open hailing frequencies," he continued, his own voice clipped.


"Attention, unidentified vessel," he began in a stern tone as the viewscreen shifted to a magnified view of the aggressor. "This is Commander Silas Drake of the USS Peregrine. I hereby order you to..."

Tochi scowled as the viewscreen filled with an image of the aggressor's vessel. That's an older Kuldar design, he realized, but, before he could say a word,


"Captain, they are firing disruptors!" Berk interjected. At that moment, purplish energy bolts ripped out from the decloaked ship and slammed into two of the Rytain ships.


"Intercept initiated, Captain," Tochi called out despite having not been asked, his fingers flying over the CONN, "Point and grunt, sir, and we're there!"


((OOC: I suppose that's a good a place as any to stop for now, Let's do this!))

Stardate 2365.02.11

USS Peregrine; Deck 1 - Bridge - 1050
Mathias' hands flew over his console, confirming the status of weapons and shields as well as scanning the ships sensor readings for anything untoward. So far they had passed through an asteroid field, the perfect place to hide a mine, disguised in order to blend in with the stellar debris in the field. They cleared the asteroids quickly and without incident however and thus far nothing had come up on the sensors that wasn't expected.
Suddenly, an energy signature unlike the others appeared on sensors, a series of beeps from the computer intoned that it was a ship, quickly Mathias ran the ship's configuration against the ships data base, it came up as being Kuldar in origin, but it's energy signature was to big for a ship that size and age, and how did they not pick it up in the first place?

"Running dark maybe? Mathias didn't have time to consider the mystery further further as the blips energy signature shot through the roof, something was wrong, the mystery ship had just brought its engines to full power.

"Captain," stated firmly, attempting to mask any unease in his voice "An unidentified vessel has just decloaked near the Rytainian fleet, and is on an intercept vector with them! Range, four hundred twenty thousand kilometers. Heading one hundred forty degrees, mark one one five." As he spoke the computer intoned that the ship was charging their weapons. Mathias' heart rose in his throat.

His voice tight he stated "Sir, they appear to be charging weapons."

"Red Alert!" Barked Commander Drake, the alert klaxon filled Mathias' ears and he instinctively brought weapons and shields to full power, the computer counting down the seconds before they would be at full power. "Shields up! Bring our own weapon systems online, and prepare to fire."

They were out of phaser range, and a volley of photons at this range was risky, especially with all of the Rytain ships assembled in such close proximity.

"I want that ship onscreen, and give me a sensor breakdown of it right now," the Captain ordered. "Open hailing frequencies," he continued, the Captain's voice clipped.

Mathias transferred targeting data to the helm to assist helm in coordinating with him, the Captain sternly warned the threatening ship across all hailing frequencies as the ship blinked onto the main viewer, moments later another energy spike came from the ship.

"Captain, they are firing disruptors!" Berk exclaimed, two purple lances burst forth from the de-cloaking ship and slammed into two of the Rytain ships, tearing through their shielded hulls.

"Sir, I can get you a photon lock but there's some risk to the assembled ships. Mathias loaded all of the Peregrine's torpedo tubes, fore and aft, they'd need every shot they had at their disposal at this range. "It'll be hard to reacquire if they turn and cloak again. If you want phasers I need us closer, at least another hundred and fifty thousand kilometers or so." Mathias explained coolly, the battle calm washing over him, his fingers gliding over his console, targeting data, weapons and shield frequencies streaming across his tactical console and the enemy ships energy signature still fluctuating wildly.

(OCC: Let me know if this post seems to be missing anything, I kind of threw it together to keep the momentum up)

Stardate 2365.02.09 (Tuesday - 42137.6)
USS Peregrine; Deck 5 - Observation Lounge "The Aerie" - 13:08
"I do not know Lauren Crane by anything more than our brief interaction and her record." Light blue hands shift the navy blue mug of bitter brown liquid a scant inch from the edge of her plate and then refocus to retrieve the fork that had been brought with the food. "Her record appears to be impeccable, and you seem to think highly of her. That leaves me with nothing by her most recent action to decide her character, and I can only say that she appears to have made a very costly mistake.

"My concern with your task of advocating for Chief Crane is nothing more than finding you in an impossible position." Cutting into her meal, the scientist pauses before lifting the morsel to her mouth. "Impossible because of the admitted guilt and mitigating facts, not because of your ability."

"Your flattering estimation of our ability aside," Tochi chuckles, "Impossible positions are written into the job description, we believe," He sets his fork on the edge of his plate and smiling, glances out the window at the passing stars, "Written into what it means to live for that matter." The Trill's eyes track back to hers, then, and, along with a smile, he offers an expansive gesture. "Astrogation, diplomacy, science, even music; everyone will, at some point, present you with obstacles that seem insurmountable. At times, those can be removed or circumvented; other times, they're just as impassable as they appear, frustrating as that may be. Either way, we learn."

Placing the delicious, juicy plant into her mouth, she chews thoughtfully and sets the fork on the edge of her plate. Swallowing, she lightly shrugs her shoulders and says, "I also don't know Captain Drake well enough to even formulate an opinion on how he'll address the situation."

"Hmmm," Tochi murmurs, his smile skewing into a more contemplative expression as his fork hovers midway between plate and mouth, "knowing Silas as we do, the word ‘severely' comes to mind. He's not the sort to be swayed by a sad song, especially given the nature of the infraction." He returns the speared morsel of food to the plate. "Had he become aware of the situation while still docked at the starbase, we're sure that Mister Crane would have been relieved of duty, discharged from the Peregrine, and left there pending a full Court Martial."

"As well she should have been." Asovil leans forward conspiratorially and says with raised eyebrows, "To be honest, I find the Andorian method of consequence far more enjoyable to watch."

An almost mischievous grin plays on Tochi's lips at her admission, one of his own brows lifting a bit as he nods a silent concurrence. As well versed as he was in politics and diplomacy, thanks to Kasru, the XO found a certain purity and undeniable truth in things like the duels to which Asovil alluded, one versus another with only skill and conviction in between, it was that simplicity that had initially drawn him to fencing, in fact. As simple as such things appeared to be on the surface, though, he had learned through years of practice and study that there was a great deal of finesse and tangential reasoning underlying that perceived straightforwardness and, as a result, ‘simple' became ‘complicated' all too quickly,

Pulling away the blue-skinned woman adopts a carefree disposition and pushes at the greens with her fork. "But then, as the Terrans say, when in the dome, do as the domains do." While appearing cavalier, Asovil can barely refrain from spilling forth her own desire for security in her new position and a knowledge that she isn't going to be faulted for her decision to further investigate the errors within the Science Department. Ship life has a way of making loyalists out of even the most introverted soul and not only has the Andorian made an entrance to be remembered, but she's added to it by finding immediate cause to demote an NCO not to mention the disaster that morning in the chemlab.

,It's all Tochi can do to keep his grin from evolving into a chuckle as the lovely Andorian mutilates yet another idiom. He debates, for a fraction of a second, as to whether or not he should correct her fumbling on the sayings but, in the end, decides that he just can't bring himself to do so. Somehow, he has come to find that particular trait exceedingly endearing, Instead, he staves off the chuckle with a sip of his katheka and continues to grin at her, like the cart that ate the cranberry.

"Such a deflating topic," she sighs apologetically and smiles a brilliant flash of white teeth to chase the doldrums away.

As he relegates his cup to the table, again, Tochi, still smiling, offers a shake of his head in reply to her vaguely apologetic tone; "A bit," he says, turning his mug between his hands as he revels in her smile.

"How do you feel the banquet fared last night?"

The Trill's head cants faintly to one side and, for an instant, he seems to deeply contemplate her question and his own thoughts on how to answer. Following that, Tochi offers a vague shrug and a smirk. "Very much as we thought it might," he answers, "and, at once, not at all as we might have imagined."

He sips at his katheka, again, as he searches his thoughts for the best way to explain that statement. After a moment, he grins; "Half of the art of diplomacy is to say nothing, especially when speaking. Last night, while D'Lar and Threel both spoke quite a bit, neither of them truly said anything. To that end, the banquet unfolded much as we expected. However, there was a lot in what they left unsaid that gave us pause and, before the evening was over, saw us completely re-evaluating our initial impressions of the ambassadors,"

The grin on the XO's face melts into something more akin to a scowl as his eyes drop, momentarily, to gaze into his cup.

"...The roles we had expected each of them to play seemed to be reversed, somehow." As his gaze lifts from the dark suface of the katheka, the scowl becomes a smirk. "It's a difficult thing to explain, we suppose. I just sense something, off,"




Stardate 2365.02.09 (Tuesday 42138.7)
USS Peregrine; Deck 1 - Bridge - 14:50
Recording his input and authentication to Petty Officer Crane's file hadn't taken as long as Lt Zai had imagined it might have. In fact, the whole affair seemed almost sad in it's brevity, so few words for such an impactful event, The process was sterile by design, he knew, intended to keep emotion, personal feelings, separate from the procedural logic but, still, just now, it felt coldly impersonal.

We're tired, Tochi reminds himself, stifling a sigh as he keys in his final authorization code, updating Lauren's file and sending it along the chain, It's been an overly long day, an overly long couple of days, and you're allowing it to distract us.
He pinches at the bridge of his nose, and then rubs at his eyes as they lift away from the console to fix on the main viewer. The Trill sits for a long moment, seemingly lost in his contemplation of the warp-distorted starscape as it streaks by on the viewscreen - his mind trying to let go of the tumult of the last few days and trying to make some sort of order of it, all at once. Somewhere in that moment - between the entwining and entangled filaments of conscious thoughts that battled for attention in his mind - the ethereal passing of subspace on the viewer and the soft drone and chirp of bridge activity combine to provide an experience of transcendence in his sapped psyche. There is a brief instant, punctuated by a sigh of relief and a slow, deliberate blinking of weary eyes, in which all of his personalities meld into the seemless, cohesive consciousness that the Symbiosis Commission would have preferred to see all those years ago,

Isri's eyes marveled at the stars that she could only have dreamed of in her day. Odia's imaginings bent toward the profitable trade routes that might have been established in this sector had vessels like the Peregrine been available when last he captained a ship. Dirven, always the romantic, saw art painted in the streaking lights and gasses on the viewscreen and discerned a soothingly harmonious melody in the sounds that lilted in the air about him. Kasru, ever wise in her perception of the universe, saw and felt the forward momentum of not only the ship but, also, the progression of unity and tolerance that had so drawn her into the service of the Federation nearly a hundred years past. And Tochi, well, Tochi can't help but smile at the fact that it had been the fleeting image of a pale blue face, brought to mind as the azure and argent hues of a small nebula flashed by on the viewer, that seemed to instigate that particular moment of peace.

,Lt Zai's chuckle at the irony of it all escapes him under the guise of a muffled snort and the faint shake of his head as he extracts himself from his perusal of the viewscreen and, allowing the day's tension to further ease itself from his shoulders, relaxes back into the command chair. His gaze travels almost lazily about the bridge, then, watching as the Alpha shift personnel are steadily relieved and replaced by their Beta shift counterparts. As the shift rotation continues, Tochi coaxes himself into a leisurely review of Alpha shifts duty reports, making particular note of PO Rogers' incident with the corrosives and Engineering's latest findings in regard to PO Bachmann having been been "assaulted" by the console in Sickbay.


((OOC: So, as mentioned in the subject line, this is just some backpost stuff that I had in the works before RL reared it's ugly head and sucked me in... Nothing major contained within, I suppose... Just some more with Tochi and Asovil's lunch conversation and a bit of Trill-musing.))

Stardate 2365.02.11
USS Peregrine, Bridge - 1053

"Captain, they are firing disruptors!" Berk interjected. At that moment, purplish energy bolts ripped out from the decloaked ship and slammed into two of the Rytain ships.

Silas swore vehemently. Fortunately, Lieutenant Zai immediately bent to the task at hand.

"Intercept initiated, Captain," Tochi called out despite having not been asked, his fingers flying over the CONN, "Point and grunt, sir, and we're there!"

Inwardly, Silas grinned darkly. A bit quick on that trigger, aren't we? Technically, course changes should only be initiated by the officer in charge, but seeing as this was clearly the proper course of action, the Captain did not see it worth the mention.

"Get us in phaser range as quickly as possible, Lieutenant," he spoke instead. "I'd rather not fire torpedoes in this situation if I can help it."

Lieutenant Lasad spoke up from the Ops station. "Captain," he spoke, "the attacking vessel is transmitting as the KDF Stormspike, a Kuldarian vessel. It seems odd, though - this ship design is at least fifty years out of date - if not more - and the energy signatures make no sense whatsoever. They shouldn't even have the power plant capable of energizing disruptors of that magnitude, let alone operate a cloaking device." Left unspoken was the obvious point that both disruptors and cloaking technology were both beyond everything understood to be with reach of Kuldarian vessels of any type, let alone ancient ones.

The Ops chief continued with his status report. "One of the Rytainian vessels has been destroyed, Captain. The other is badly damaged. The Stormspke is charging for another volley."

The Captain barked out. "Open hailing frequencies again." "Attention, KDF Spormspike! Cease and desist your attack at once, or you will be destroyed! I will not offer another warning."

Suddenly, the Kuldarian vessel disappeared from the viewscreen and from sensors. "Captain," Berk called out, "the enemy vessel has re-cloaked."

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

Ambassador Threel rose from his seat and, shaking with fury, leveled a finger at D'lar. "You and your treacherous kind! There can be no peace while your murderous species continues to consume oxygen!"

D'lar, for his part, seemed utterly dumbfounded. "This is not an official act of my government, I am certain of this. We came here for a true hope of peace."

"Liar!" Threel spat. "Yet another Kuldarian ambush! Who cares if your government made official sanction of this, the murder is the same!"

D'lar took to his own feet and turned his expression on Drake. "Captain, this is not right. I can assure you that this is not a Kuldarian attack. We see the tactical value in ambushes, I do not deny this, but we did not perform this one."

Threel was now drifting into full apoplexy. "Can you never speak the truth, you filthy cur? The evidence is before us, borne in the blood of my people, once again spilled for no reason!"

The Kuldar raised a hand. "Captain, please, I beg of you - listen to me. I know that this is not a Kuldarian attack - my grandsire served on the Stormspike, but she was lost with all hands some forty years ago while on field operations in Rytainian territory. All of her crew were given burials when I was a child. We searched for her for months, but she was never found, and her last transmission indicated that life support had been breached, that all lives were lost."

"Field operations???" Threel shrieked. "You mean, an attack run to kill Rytainian children! Do not disguise your bloodlust behind flowery words!"

Drake narrowed his eyes. "Enough, Ambassador Threel. You will sit down and be silent, or you will be removed from my bridge." The Captain's tone left no room for argument, and a shaking Threel obeyed.

"Hail the Coronado," the Captain spoke. "Captain Jacobs will need to be informed of this intel."

Suddenly, a smaller alarm sounded, and Lasad looked up, wide eyed. "Captain, I'm detecting a significant explosion aboard the Coronado! I'll need to see the official damage report, but it appears that the explosion may have involved their torpedo launcher! Their shields are holding, but are significantly weakened - they are down to sixty-two percent capacity."

Stardate 2365.02.11 (Thursday - 42143.7)
USS Peregrine; Various locations - 08:00 - 10:50

Ensign Linda Blackmon was enjoying her day off; she started her day with a hearty breakfast of a roasted mushroom and tomato frittata topped with sliced avocado and crumbled blue cheese., some assorted fruit, and a protein shake. She then spent an hour in the gym working out with weights, then some cardio, then a little light work on the heavy bag. It was hard for her to find training partners, as she liked to practice hard and a bit more realistic than most preferred. It was too bad that Chief Cook was busy working on updating the entire crew physicals; the Chief was one of the few people that enjoyed a good friend 'contest'.

After her 'workout', Linda took a quick shower and then headed over to the Phaser range. She liked to practice whenever she got the chance; you never knew you would be called upon for a little physical security. After the range, she planned to head back to her room and do a little reading on Advanced Shipboard Security techniques, but she was just finishing up her range routine when the Red Alert sounded. She quickly stowed the 'range' phaser in it's place and hurried out of the range and to the Security Office which wasnt far away.

Once there she grabbed a fresh Type II phaser and placed it on her belt. Since she wasn't currently on the Bridge shift, she would stand ready at the Security office and supervise the other Security personnel until Lt. Reid arrived to take over. Linda knew that Lt Berk would be on the bridge manning the Tactical station; she wished she was there, but nothing ever seem.ed to happen on her duty shift. Therefore, she stood by with the other Security personnel awaiting instruction from Lt. Berk.

Stardate 2365.02.11
USS Peregrine, - 1050


Lt. Reid had spent a good day excising and resting. It took a little more adjustment coming off a Gamma shift to prepare for Alpha shift duty. He'd made a friend in the new CEO and had time to check on messages from cousin, no news.

John had done some study prepping for more Tactical lessons. He had slipped on his duty uniform and was headed to security to where he'd planned to access files to augment his studies. As the lift doors opened on deck five the quiet was broken by the blare of a Red Alert.Now racing to the Security Office. John knew Berk was on the bridge and would be handling the Tactical Com pre the Captain's orders so he took charge of general security.

Tapping his com badge. "Lt. Reid to Security personnel..man battle stations....Ambassador Detail hold your positions."

Then entering the Security Office he acknowledges the watch duty officer Chief Brooks and tapped his com again. "Reid to Lt. Berk.. General security deployed..I am in Security to man the backup Tac Com with Chief Brooks...any orders?"

As he looked across the room John saw ACM Clint Myers seated at a com screen looking a bit pale. "Hang in there sailor, things may be getting dicey but you're in the right place with the right man as he gave nod to Chief Brooks.

Then while waiting for Berk's reply he crossed to the watch officer,"Chief... what's the situation?"

Stardate 2365.02.11
USS Peregrine, Bridge - 1055

Haemis stood at the pool table watching as the ships power distribution center did its job switching the vessels internal power systems over for combat shutting down what non-essential systems were not needed to store it for reserves. He made a few adjustments before queuing up a one way open communications channel to the bridge to listen in on what was happening. He piped it through the Engine room's speaker's. He stared intently at the screen waiting for the damage to potentially start rolling in, he glanced across the table at his assistant. "Bloody wait'n!" he said with a half smile.

She nodded in return. "It's part of the job, I've gotten used to it."

He shook his head suddenly. Ack, no! You never get used to it! You get used to it canna make ye complacent. That is a bad thing." he said shaking a finger. He pointed up at the ceiling as if there was a speaker above. "That will give us a lead on where we need to send traffic, and keep us on our toes. Tis a wee trick my old boss used on the Coronado."

Haemis glanced down at his console once more to check power distribution, it was a green board for the moment. Part of him was hoping that it might stay that way, but at the same time he wanted to see how his new engine crew would handle things. They had not yet had an emergency aside from what happened with the old chief engineer.

"Captain, I'm detecting a significant explosion aboard the Coronado! I'll need to see the official damage report, but it appears that the explosion may have involved their torpedo launcher! Their shields are holding, but are significantly weakened - they are down to sixty-two percent capacity." Haemis heard Lasad's voice over the speakers, and he looked up with shocked look that even surprised him. He moved to an auxillary console and pulled up a live feed from the sensors and stared at the vessel, its shields were intact and still buzzing with debris bouncing off of them, a scar of jagged metal and flotsam now gracing the area where the vessels torpedo launcher was.

"Bloody el!" he gasped, staring at the damage to his former home. "That just does not happen!"

"I thought you hated that ship?" he heard Caity's voice call from his side.

He blinked a moment. "No love lost lass, but I wouldna wished that on my worst enemy!" he said moving back to his station. "Though I didnna get along with my old CO, and I'm still a bit off about my ol boss but I don't wanna see them hurt!" he said. "Do me a favor and see if you can piggy back any scans that the bridge might be doing of that and let's be ready in case we have to render them aid."

Haemis's eyes found the power distribution information, but his mind was on the Coronado, which was something he rightly didn't expect.

Stardate 2365.02.11 (Thursday - 42143.7)
USS Peregrine; Deck 1 - Main Bridge - 10:51

"Captain, they are firing disruptors!" Berk interjects. At that moment, purplish energy bolts ripped out from the decloaked ship and slammed into two of the Rytain ships.

Waiting for the correct time to discharge the tachyon beam, the science officer intently watches the distance between the ships. The beam will lessen the enemy ship's shield efficiency and after that, well, she'll need to come up with something more to assist in their surviving this predicament. Her antennaes twitch as she considers the likelihood of them seeking to cloak and escape. They are much weaker than anything here, her deep indigo eyes flit across the sensor data collected on the ship. They came here to die.
"Sir, I can get you a photon lock but there's some risk to the assembled ships." Mathias reports. "It'll be hard to reacquire if they turn and cloak again. If you want phasers I need us closer, at least another hundred and fifty thousand kilometers or so."

One hundred and fifty thousand kilometers, Asovil frowns as she considers the range needed to implement her expiramental tachyon beam. Twenty thousand kilometers is not that great a distance in space and she wonders if they'll get close enough to even prove her usefulness.

Silas swears vehemently. Fortunately, Lieutenant Zai immediately bends to the task at hand.

"Intercept initiated, Captain," Tochi calls with a confident tone that stirs the Andorian CSO's blood with the fire of potential combat. "Point and grunt, sir, and we're there!"

"Get us in phaser range as quickly as possible, Lieutenant," the captain responds. "I'd rather not fire torpedoes in this situation if I can help it."

Lieutenant Lasad speaks up from the Ops station. "Captain," he begins, "the attacking vessel is transmitting as the KDF Stormspike, a Kuldarian vessel. It seems odd, though—this ship design is at least fifty years out of date—if not more—and the energy signatures make no sense whatsoever. They shouldn't even have the power plant capable of energizing disruptors of that magnitude, let alone operate a cloaking device."

Lt. Sh'iraolnas wonders if she's missed something in her brief review of the mission after her meeting with Captain Drake. Nothing had been said about either peoples' technological advancements including cloaking or disruptors. But then, as the Chief Science Officer, she could have just not been informed.

The Ops Chief continues with his status report, "One of the Rytainian vessels has been destroyed, Captain. The other is badly damaged. The Stormspike is charging for another volley."

The Captain barks out, "Open hailing frequencies again. Attention, KDF Stormspike! Cease and desist your attack at once, or you will be destroyed! I will not offer another warning."

Suddenly, the Kuldarian vessel disappears from sensors, and the viewscreen Asovil confirms with a glance over her shoulder.

"Captain," Berk calls out, "the enemy vessel has re-cloaked."

Ambassador Threel cries out in outrage, "You and your treacherous kind! There can be no peace while your murderous species continues to consume oxygen!"

Surprised, in part because the Andorian isn't used to such outbursts on the Bridge and partly because she had almost forgotten that the ambassadors were present, Lieutenant Sh'iraolnas struggles to keep her attention on her scans. Maybe, just maybe, she can pick the cloaked ship up. If only she can discover any sign of engine emissions, disruptor residue, or mineral inconsistencies in the space within which the vessel had last been registered. But the conversation taking place behind her is very distracting and the energy in the room is infectious. Despite her attempts at self-control, she finds her antennae responding to the increased hostility by standing straight up with attentive eagerness.

D'lar's voice carried a tone of utter dismay. "This is not an official act of my government, I am certain of this. We came here for a true hope of peace."

"Liar!" Threel spits. "Yet another Kuldarian ambush! Who cares if your government made official sanction of this, the murder is the same!"

D'lar speaks directly to Drake. "Captain, this is not right. I can assure you that this is not a Kuldarian attack. We see the tactical value in ambushes, I do not deny this, but we did not perform this one."

Asovil cannot help herself and throws a glance over her shoulder to see Ambassador Threel drifting into full apoplexy. "Can you never speak the truth, you filthy cur? The evidence is before us, borne in the blood of my people, once again spilled for no reason!"

The Kuldar raises a hand to stall any potential action from others on the Bridge and the Andorian scientist forces herself back to the scans. "Captain, please, I beg of you—listen to me. I know that this is not a Kuldarian attack—my grandsire served on the Stormspike, but she was lost with all hands some forty years ago while on field operations in Rytainian territory. All of her crew were given burials when I was a child. We searched for her for months, but she was never found, and her last transmission indicated that life support had been breached, that all lives were lost."

"Field operations???" Threel shrieks sending a shiver down the slim woman's spine as she adjusts the sensitivity of her mineral scan. "You mean, an attack run to kill Rytainian children! Do not disguise your bloodlust behind flowery words!"

Drake finally replies in a calm tone laced with warning. "Enough, Ambassador Threel. You will sit down and be silent, or you will be removed from my bridge." Asovil nearly sat right there on the floor. She is glad that she is not the recipient of the Captain's words and though she can understand Threel's outburst, she is suspicious of the authenticity of his claims. After all, the Rytanian had seemed less than confident of the Kuldarian's agenda with this summit whereas D'Lar had come across as blunt but sincere. Even Tochi had admitted at lunch that they had confused his original perception of the duo, and in the short time the Andorian has known the Trill, she has come to trust his instinct.

"Hail the Coronado," the Captain orders. "Captain Jacobs will need to be informed of this intel."

Suddenly, a smaller alarm sounds. "Captain," Lasad is aghast. "I'm detecting a significant explosion aboard the Coronado! I'll need to see the official damage report, but it appears that the explosion may have involved their torpedo launcher! Their shields are holding, but are significantly weakened—they are down to sixty-two percent capacity."

I thought that cloaked ships can't fire weapons, Furrowing her brow, the Andorian adjusts her scans to the area immediately surrounding the other Federation vessel. Nothing. No sign of the Stormspike or any other threat for that matter. Deepening the frown, the scientist fights the feeling of helplessness that is rising in her and seeks to allow the Will of the Warrior to take over. Frantically searching for something to do, some way to positively affect the outcome of the battle, Asovil switches from an offensive position to a defensive position.

"Captain," she turns to face Silas, antennae perched in a forward anticapatory position on the back of her head. "With your permission I would like to polarize the hull. If the Stormspike has the means to attack from a cloaked position, we need to insure that we aren't taken by surprise. Polarizing the hull will help sturdy the Peregrine's structure against energy attacks among other things."


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

Stardate 2365.02.11 (Thursday - 42143.7)
USS Peregrine; Deck 4 - Sickbay - 10:52
=/\= Chief Cook to all Medical Personnel =/\= Cook pauses briefly as the computer routes her call to the proper crew, =/\= Report to Sickbay immediately! =/\=

Approaching the wall and opening the storage bins, the Vulcan crewman produces a medical tricorder which he attaches to his utility belt. Taking up a hypospray, he grabs a satchel of canisters with painkillers and also attaches these to his belt. There are certified nurses here at sickbay who will address the needs of personnel brought in. Toriak's job in such situations is to seek out the wounded who cannot make it to sickbay and stabilize them until they can be transported. Until such a time as he is needed, he calmly returns to his duties inputting record data.

As the others arrive in hurried and rushed conditions, Mister Toriak seemingly takes no notice. Focusing on the data still presenting before him, the Vulcan selects the file of Warren and waits calmly as the file is presented. Confident that Cook will make assignments when necessary, Toriak glances down at the PADD he holds in his left hand and syncs the station directly to the portable device. Once the systems link is present, he begins transferring the notes from Cooks' recent exam into the authorized location within Travis Warren's file. Calm for a Vulcan is not an achievement. Logically speaking, his position of pure stoicism should help those of less sturdy constitutions regulate their adrenaline. Thus, he cannot fathom why Nurse Reynolds' hands are shaking. This, too, isn't something for him to be overly concerned with. If the head nurse felt it prudent to address her subordinate's lack of decorum, then she could.

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Stardate 2365.02.09 (Tuesday - 42137.6)
USS Peregrine; Deck 5 - Security Department - 10:53
Arriving on the Bridge, Petty Officer 2nd Class Da Zheng immediately locates the Kuldar he's been charged with protecting. The gray-skinned alien is obviously shaken and Da's immediate assessment is that something isn't right with both of the delegates. Calculating the potential for some physical action against the man he's to protect, Zheng moves between him and the agitated Ambassador Threel to a position where he can keep both delegates under observation, phaser rifle held at attention across his chest.