Stardate 2365.02.07
USS Peregrine, Cargo Bay One - 0925

KLAAAAAANG!!
The spanner narrowly missed Toporov as it ricocheted off the wall. Eric had the presence of mind to yell "Sorry!" to the startled Engineering crewman before he began an extended session of cursing that would have made his Viking ancestors most appreciative. It wasn't so much frustration as it was an impending sense of the passage of time that had made Eric snatch up the spanner and throw it. Hard. Would've been a definite trip to Sickbay for Toporov, his hard Russian skull notwithstanding. Eric made a mental note to get Toporov suitably drunk by way of further apology when they next took holosuite time together and visited the great Viking mead hall built by Eric's own family over a thousand years ago.

There was nothing in the Federation's records about the technology of these Hekarans. There was precious little about the race itself. Apparently the Hekarans were a very insular people. Eric would have given his cybernetic arm at that moment for a single blueprint of any piece of Hekaran technology. He and the Engineering team were going to have to suss out a completely alien technology, then troubleshoot that technology from the ground up to find the cause of the canisters' failing containment, and then they had to effect repairs, assuming they even had the technology to do so, without letting loose the microscopic cyborgs in the canisters. Given the fact that the (cyborganisms?) were under such strong containment in the first place, Eric had the feeling that bad things were wont to happen if that containment were broken and the lifeforms released. And they had eight hours to get it all done. Taken all together, the situation was enough to make any self-respecting engineer throw a tool.

Granted, they had made some progress. Through the data gathered so far, Eric had been able to piece together a basic picture of how the Hekarans approached circuit structures, power distribution and the like, but at this point it was like trying to describe an elephant to someone when you could only see its trunk. They had a ridiculously small, and ever-decreasing, amount of time to move way beyond these basics and get to the actual reconstruction of the damaged components, determining how they worked together, figuring out how to distribute energy through them, and reestablishing containment without doing something silly,like exploding.

Eric began studying another set of fresh data. Seconds later, the computer piped up with the reminder he had asked for. =/\= The time is 0925 hours. Staff briefing in five minutes. =/\= "Acknowledged," said Eric. He had already asked the captain if he could attend the briefing via videoconference, given the current time constraints. He took a moment to drink a glass of ice-cold water, smooth the wrinkles from his tunic, and activated a conference link to the captain's mess.

Eric listened and paid attention as Captain Drake outlined their orders for the escort mission. Having survived his fair share of combat, Eric fully agreed with Drake's prudence in preparing for the worst, especially when words like "routine" were used. The captain then started going around the table, issuing orders to the respective departments. In due course, Drake's gaze lifted across the table to the small personal comm screen on the wall to look at Eric. =/\= Likewise, Commander, I want your people ready, just in case the talking turns into shooting. Also, I noticed that our total power output numbers were about three percent lower than we've been running - is that something that can be addressed? =/\=

Eric wasn't all that surprised; he was actually starting to believe that Drake really did have eyes everywhere on the Peregrine. At that moment, though, Eric offered an earnest prayer to Thor - that he immediately send his largest thunderbolt up the arse of one Master Chief Petty Officer Clarence Davis. "Yes, sir," Eric replied after a masterful recovery, "and it already has been. We took one of the plasma flow regulators offline temporarily for, ah, routine maintenance last night, and that dropped the output. We're back to a hundred and five percent efficiency on all the power systems. I can make that a hundred and ten if things get hairy."

Drake nodded and then continued around the table with orders. Eventually he asked the million-gold-piece question: =/\= Very well. Now then... who wants to get me up to speed on this escape pod? =/\=

As Eric was right next to the thing, eyes of the briefing attendees (those whose backs weren't to it) drifted toward Eric on the small screen.

"Well, Captain, from an engineering standpoint, we're starting from scratch. These Hekarans are apparently pretty insular; there is nothing in Federation records regarding their technology. For only a couple of hours, though, we've made decent progress. We have a basic handle on the foundations of the technology. We still have to get through identifying what everything does and making sure we can recreate all of the technological functions, and then we have to effect repairs to the canisters' containment. While we've confirmed that the lifeforms are indeed cybernetic, that's about all we've confirmed. I can't tell you if they're dangerous yet, but there has to be a reason they're under containment. On the bright side, we haven't found anything outside of our own capabilities yet, so once we've gotten the research done, I'm fairly confident that we can shore up the canisters. We still have a lot of work to do, though, so with your permission, I'll get back to it and let someone else chime in."

((OOC: assuming Drake's permission to do so))

"Thank you, sir. Thorson out."

With a quick prayer to Mother Frigg for patience and wisdom, a quick glance to make sure no tools were within grabbing-and-throwing range, and another quick prayer to Thor for some expedience on that thunderbolt/Clarence-arse situation, Eric bent back to the task.

Stardate 2365.02.07
USS Peregrine; Captain's Ready Room - 0805
He had reached the door, now, and, just before cueing it to open, he turned back and regarded the Captain, once again. "For the record, sir," he said, "If it does come to a court martial, I will be there, front and center, as your friend above all else.

If you'll excuse me," he smiled, "I've got reports to gather from Science and Engineering. See you at the briefing, sir."

"Understood," Silas replied. "0930 it is. Oh, and Tochi?" he queried.

Drake paused for a long moment and cleared his throat.

"Thank you."

"Not necessary, Captain," Tochi replied with a faint nod, "but you are welcome."

Feeling better, himself, about the Captain's state of mind, the Trill stepped out of the office, then, and resumed his post on the bridge where he continued monitoring the input from Science and Engineering where they regarded the Hekaran lifeboat. There wasn't a lot coming across the screens in the short time between having left Silas in his Ready Room and preparing to report to the mission briefing, but, at least, it was something to occupy his mind.

Captain's Mess - 0930
Lt Zai had arrived at the meeting some minutes before the designated time, greeted those already in attendance, and taken his customary seat to the Captain's right. Shortly thereafter, the meeting commenced with all the efficiency he had become accustomed to under Drake's command and, as the Captain relayed the details of the Peregrine's new mission, Tochi paid close attention to even the minutest detail and, on occasion, entered notes into his PADD for reference at a later time.

A milk run type of mission, Zai smiled faintly at Drake's assessment of the orders and silently concurred with the man's extended "be prepared for anything" analysis. Milk runs were, typically, uneventful by definition but, at least, there was a possibility of that milk being spilled at some point, thereby making them somewhat more enjoyable than the "fly around in circles" patrol tours like the one they were currently leaving in their wake.

Having laid out the mission in broad strokes, the Captain then went on with his standard briefing routine of addressing the department heads, in turn. He started with Rock; requesting a tactical assessment of both the Kuldar and Rytains and, of course, ordering that ordnance stockpiles were such that, in a worst case scenario, the Peregrine would be duly prepared. Then,

"Lt Zai," Drake said, turning his eyes to Tochi, "I know that you are still shorthanded. I have asked Starfleet Command for another helmsman; in the meantime, what is the status on Petty Officer Owen?"

"Much appreciated, sir," Tochi acknowledged. Another helmsman would go a long way towards lightening the load on P'Tammah and the rest of his department, not to mention the other departments who had contributed outside of their typical realms to contribute to the manning of the CONN.

"Petty Officer Owen is doing very well," he added, then, "Her unit scores are commendable and, I believe, we can expect her to take and pass her final certification exam within the week."

Drake nodded. "I wonder if we can accelerate her progress any. Perhaps allow her to sit a helm watch or two when you have the Big Chair? Assuming, of course, that you felt she was ready enough in terms of piloting. I obviously do not want us sacrificing our standards, but if her impact skills - such as actually flying the ship - are ready, but she's working on supporting coursework... well, perhaps some on the job training is in order. As it stands now, we're running Tactical and Operations shorthanded, and I'd like to have relief where we can get it."

"Agreed, sir," Tochi said with a grin, "We think the Petty Officer would appreciate that as much as the rest of us. Her piloting skills are such that I wouldn't hesitate to put her at the CONN - she's taken the approach that it's not altogether different from flying a shuttle, just on a much larger scale. She has seemed to struggle a bit with Advanced Navigation, from what we understand, but I believe that some shifts at the helm would help to clarify things for her."

The Trill entered some additional notes and sent a couple of notifications to the Flight Control staff via his PADD as the Captain moved on to Lt Chell. Tochi's satisfied grin evolved into a full-fledged smile of amusement as he imagined Megan's squeals of delight at having finally being added to the CONN rotation, Probably climbing right to the top of Chief Kukkonen's head and dancing, now, he chuckled inwardly.

He continued listening and taking notes as Drake verbally made his way, from officer to officer, around the table. He nodded when the Captain made it known that Hekaran pod would be offloaded to the Serapis during the layover at Starbase 118. Good, Zai thought, something about that whole thing makes us itch. The sooner it's in someone else's hands, the better.
The Captain sat back in his chair, and the holographs dissolved. "All, right, then. Are there any questions regarding our new orders?"

Following Horatio's input, then, Tochi interjected his own,

"Lt Chell," he turned to the Bolian Ops Chief, "If I could get our new helmsman's dossier sent to us before we reach the starbase, please? We'd like to get a read on quals and certs before just hard-jacking him or her into the rotation."

((OOC: positive acknowledgement assumed))

"Thank you, Korvin," Tochi nodded to Chell before regarding the Captain, again. "That's all we have, sir."

((OOC: any other staff input before Thorson's update here))

"Very well. Now then... who wants to get me up to speed on this escape pod?" Drake asked.

"Well, Captain, from an engineering standpoint, we're starting from scratch,"

Tochi's gaze flicked to the screen displaying Commander Thorson's face.

"These Herakans are apparently pretty insular; there is nothing in Federation records regarding their technology. For only a couple of hours, though, we've made decent progress. We have a basic handle on the foundations of the technology. We still have to get through identifying what everything does and making sure we can recreate all of the technological functions, and then we have to effect repairs to the canisters' containment. While we've confirmed that the lifeforms are indeed cybernetic, that's about all we've confirmed. I can't tell you if they're dangerous yet, but there has to be a reason they're under containment. On the bright side, we haven't found anything outside of our own capabilities yet, so once we've gotten the research done, I'm fairly confident that we can shore up the canisters,"

Zai scowled a bit at Thorson's report. He trusted the man's analysis and skill, of course, but the fact that the pod had appeared, seemingly from nowhere, and contained, not just a Hekaran corpse but also some sort of microscopic, cybernetic organism, Well, it just made him all the more anxious to have the thing off the Peregrine. He couldn't define exactly what it was about that pod or it's contents that did it, but, deep inside his mind and his gut, something about it was very unsettling.

Stardate 0365.02.07
USS Peregrine, holodeck - 0813

Rising to his feet John reached down to help Karri up too. "I haven't had such an enjoyable time and laughed so much in a long time. It has been work, study ..repeat, seeming endlessly since graduating. "Karri rose up and stood close John; once again he felt himself swimming it those fascinating blue eyes.
Karri smirked her ears twitching slightly listening as the faint sound of wind rustled along the edges of the canopy an across the open field.

"I quite feel the same John, I would have never thought that I'd find myself finding someone i'd be so at ease with. Or that I'd hope that we become good friends."

Karri tried to hide her smile of mirth as the faint rumble of thunder hinted at her ears.

After a moment he said, "Next time we visit Earth, we don't have man eating plants but I hope you'll find it as beautiful as I do."
He found he was still holding her shoulders.
"That sound lovely John.... an John?" Karri paused looking up at him in ernest, her tail flicking behind her.

(johns response)

"I hope you dont mind a little rain...."

With a joyful laugh Karri tossed her head back as the storm front blew over in a torrent of warm rain drenching both of them instantly.

Stardate 0365.02.07
USS Peregrine, holodeck - 0813
John held Karri as the rain poured down over them washing away the dust and mud. As they stood John thought he felt the ground move. Then he realized he had felt something, he'd felt the ship jump to warp.
"Karri..I have to check in, something is going on on board the ship. I have to get to a com station."

(assumung Karri halts the sim.)

The hohodeck doors whooshed open and John rushed to the nearest com.

"Lieutenant Reid to Security. Status report, the ship jumped to warp, what's going on?"

The duty officer filled John in on the situation with the pod and the status in the shuttle bay.
"Very good, Reid out"
(assuming Karri also report to Engineering)

Turning back to Karri, " I need to change and go to Security just in case. The Chief may need help he doesn't know he needs yet. I'll contact you..or you can contact me... when thing are more stable. Our walk on earth will have to wait..as we say.. I'll give you a rain check." With that john nodded and then jogged back to his quarters.

Stardate 2365.02.07
Starbase 118, Personal Quarters - 0530
It was cold in that final morning that Hebert woke up in his quarters on Starbase 118. To be fair, it was always cold, it's how the slumbering giant liked the room. It reminded him of home on Earth.

The only thing missing is that snow. He thought languidly to himself as he rose from his bed. He missed snow, very much. It took the edge out of the heat in the air and brought the ambient temperature back down to a level he liked. He often visited the holodeck to experience it, but knowing it was all fake made it never quite the same.

Spinning in his bed, he planted his enormous feet on the floor. Time to rise and shine He thought. Today's the day!
Hebert Thomason, for the first time in ages, found himself slightly nervous. With an air of mild anxiety and anticipation, he prepared himself for his morning work out, planning to dump his feelings into the iron jungle that waited for him. His morning exercises always calmed him, regardless of the situation he was experiencing or the feelings that welled in him that day. He went in with a fury, a power that would come expected of the 6'8" colossus of a man. At 345 lbs, he walked confidently. Few ever tried to talk to him, fewer still tried to start with him, and the fewest ever tried to pick a fight, not that anyone would ever have a reason to.

Hebert loved, more than anything, helping people. He always said, "Reading is good for the mind, exercise is good for the body, but helping friends and others is good for the soul." He believed that notion to his core and he showed it with his everyday actions.

Last week, even, a improperly balanced pillar had fallen on one of his mates while they were in the cargo hold. Hebert, lucky to have been there, showed the pillar right proper who was in charge, lifted the bastard clean off of his friend and placed it to the side where it would do no further harm.

Hebert is not one quick to anger, but the fury of the giant is easily roused by danger to his comrades.

Regardless, Hebert found today to be a giddy day, even through his work out. Today was the day he would finally get to see the ship that would be his first posting as a flight control officer, The USS Peregrine, captained by none other than Silas Drake.

Despite leaving his heart and soul on the floor of the iron jungle, he found himself wondering how he would be received by his future crew mates. He wondered what the chief flight control officer was like. He was told it was male Trill named Tochi Zai.

Never met a trill he thought to himself for the thousandth time, though he eagerly looked forward to meeting his superiors and more so to meet his colleagues.

"Soon enough, soon enough." He mumbled out loud to himself as he benched the 450 lb barbell for the 30th time that morning, though none were around to hear him.

Hebert Thomason spent the rest of his workout consumed by the thoughts of his future ship, just hoping that the introductions went well.

Stardate 2365.20.07
USS Peregrine; Shuttle Bay 2 - 0941
=/\=,Reaction Control System response is green, Work Bee 2,=/\= V'Lur's voice stated over the auxiliary craft's comm, =/\=Come about to zero-one-five; pitch mark-four-five.=/\=

Inside the Work Bee's tiny cockpit, Megan adjusted the controls to comply with the Vulcan Master Chief's direction. "Work Bee 2, acknowledged," she replied, "Zero-one-five, mark-four-five. Check?"

=/\=Check,=/\= V'lur confirmed as the little workcraft's attitude adjusted to his specifications, =/\=Engage manipulator arms, Petty Officer; full extension.=/\=

"Aye, aye," Megan responded with a faint grin. She'd been running V'Lur's checklists for months, now, and, as such, had already keyed in the sequence ahead of time. One, slender finger tapped the console at her side and she felt as well as heard the whirring of the servos beneath her feet as the manipulators deployed. "Manipulators engaged," she said, watching as the robotic arms stretched out ahead of the Work Bee, "Full extension."

RoM checks and control dexterity routines, next, Megan anticipated, her hands flitting across the consoles around her in preparation. Just as Kook had implied a couple of hours earlier, running these diagnostics on the AUX craft had gone a long way to settling her mind and allowing it properly compartmentalize her thoughts. By the time they'd run through the Level Two's on the Peregrine's compliment of shuttlepods, in fact, the young petty officer had found that she had actually started to multi-task, the majority of her focus on the routine of these checklists and diagnostics but, also, some small piece of it dedicated to reviewing her studies and correlating it to the work she was doing now,

=/\=Confirmed,=/\= V'Lur droned in that Vulcan way of his, =/\=Deployment Actuator Systems are in the green. Initialize Range of Motion and control dexterity check,=/\=

CheckS, Megan thought, setting her hands to the controls, You always say "checks", plural. What's with shorting me the ‘s'?
"Acknowledged," is how she responded aloud, though, "RoM checks commencing in three, two,"

=/\=Incoming transmission,=/\= the computer interrupted, =/\=Text only.=/\=

Well, Megan blinked, genuinely surprised by this apparent deviation in V'Lur's routine, That's new, She allowed one hand drift away from the manipulator controls in order to acknowledge the transmission and bring it up on screen. She read it. Blinked. Rubbed her eyes with that free hand. Read it again,

To: PO2 Owen, M.B.
From: Lt Zai, T.
Petty Officer Owen,
Please see me following your duty shift re: your bridge shifts at CONN beginning Stardate 42138.9.

V/R
Lt Zai

Both of Megan's hands fell into her lap, then, and, similarly, her mouth fell open as her eyes widened in stunned surprise. "I got it," she murmured, almost inaudibly, still blinking in disbelief at the message.

"I got it," she repeated, a bit louder this time, not realizing that her hands had found their way back to the manipulator controls.

"WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! I got it! I got it! I got it!!!" This said loudly enough that she was likely to be heard three decks in either direction without needing a comm.

From behind the wide porthole that overlooked the Shuttle Bay from Flight Ops, V'Lur and Kook watched as Work Bee 2 pirouetted just above the flight deck, it's manipulator arms flailing wildly and, at times, pumping victoriously in the air, as Megan squealed with delight within it's cockpit.

"You see, V'Lur," Kook laughed, watching the display, "I told you this would be a more functional test for the RoMs."

"Fascinating," was all V'Lur could manage.

Stardate 0365.02.07
USS Peregrine, holodeck - 0813


"Karri..I have to check in, something is going on on board the ship. I have to get to a com station."
"computer end program." Karri barked, an watched as the canopy quickly faded into the empty holo deck.

The holodeck doors whooshed open and John rushed to the nearest com.

"Lieutenant Reid to Security. Status report, the ship jumped to warp, what's going on?"
Stalking slowly to John's side Kerri's ears twitched as she tried to catch glimpsed details of the conversation.

"Very good, Reid out"

Turning back to Karri, " I need to change and report to Security for stand by. The Chief may need help he doesn't know he needs yet. I'll contact you..or you can contact me... when thing are more stable. Our walk on earth will have to wait..as we say.. I'll give you a rain check." With that john nodded and then jogged back to his quarters.

Karri nodded in agreement. "yes, a rain check until things stabilize." Karri smiled waving John off, watching his back a moment as he jogged down the hall.

Karri's smile faded as karri toyed for a moment about contacting engineering, but Commander Thorson hadn't contacted her ...yet. Karri smiled to herself as she walked the corridor toward her own room, best be changed an ready if/when he did.

Stardate 2365.02.07
USS Peregrine, Cargo Bay One - 1300

That's it. That's IT!! Eric thought triumphantly.

The final puzzle pieces had finally fallen into place! After hours of poring over streams of data from the numerous scans of the mysterious pod, countless attempts to start through the technological maze only to be brought to screeching dead ends, and many painstaking attempts at recreating Hekaran technological processes, Eric had started to see errors that should have been just impossible. The numbers just didn't add up.

The numbers don't add up,

The numbers,

The num,

"THE NUMBERS!!" Eric shouted, once again startling poor Toporov, who was at that unfortunate moment head-first underneath a terminal checking a data connection. Unfortunate because the sudden THUD from underneath the terminal indicated that Toporov's head was most likely now in a good deal of pain. The subsequent string of Russian cursing seemed to confirm this.

It's different math! Of course! Eric literally slapped himself in the forehead. How did he not catch it in the beginning? You're slipping, old man, he chided himself. The Hekarans were using higher-order math, and at a level that was even now mainly theory for Eric and his contemporaries in engineering and mathematics. Eric began frantically scanning back though earlier scans and test results, and he began to see a pattern of the specific areas where seemingly paradoxical results had emerged. Using these patterns, Eric began retrieving various but specific references from the computer and working them into the results.

It was only minutes later that the computer reported, =/\= Processing complete. All results correct and confirmed. =/\=

Eric thrust his fist into the air in triumph. That was it! The computer had applied the various higher-order theorems and equations to the test results, and everything had proven out. The power distribution curves, the applied dynamics, the energy decay ratios,all of it made sense now!

It was the work of only minutes to integrate the new results into the architecture simulations. After that, Eric was able to map out the needed circuitry and hardware, determine how to route energy through it, and run simulations to determine that everything would function as it should. With full awareness of their dwindling time limit to get this done, and vowing that if he were wrong, no one but him would be exposed to the risk, Eric made his preparations. He was the Chief Engineer; this was his plan, those were his people out there, and he took his responsibility to them seriously. "Computer, apply latest results to scans, and perform a scan of the interior of our containment field at maximum resolution. Identify any lifeforms, including and especially microorganisms."

=/\= Scan complete, =/\= the computer replied seconds later. =/\= No Hekaran or other lifeforms detected. =/\=

And with that, Eric had his plan. He called together his team. "All right, people. You have done some amazing work getting us to this point. Now that we have the math figured out, everything looks doable. However, even though the computer is not scanning any of the organisms, we still can't be sure it's totally clean in there. All of my scans are showing that the canisters' shielding is still functioning and that nothing has gotten out, but it's getting weaker by the hour, and there are fluctuations that are getting more unstable by the minute now." He looked around at all of them. "This has to be done, or we'll never get this pod off the ship. But I'm not exposing anyone else to the risk. No one but me is going in that field, and you may consider that an order."

After donning a Haz-Mat environmental suit and gathering his tools and needed components, Eric stepped up to the edge of the containment field. He drew in a deep, resigned breath, held it, and released it in a slow hiss. Showtime.

"Computer, isolate my biosignature and authorize entry into the containment field." =/\= Warning. Entry into Level Five containment field not recommended, =/\= came the obligatory caveat. "Acknowledged. Authorize entry. Engineering Override Thorson-Alpha-Seven-Epsilon." =/\= Override acknowledged. Biosignature of Chief Engineer Eric Thorson authorized for field entry. =/\=

Eric stepped forward, the forcefield that prevented physical entry reading his biosignature and allowing him to step through unimpeded. He approached the canisters, checking his tricorder screen all the while for any signs of the shielding's degradation or failure. Still stable for now. Consulting his tricorder, Eric went about installing the components they'd replicated. Now that the shielding tech had been figured out, Eric was simply going to hardwire a new shielding system into the canisters, effectively "covering" the failing shielding that was already in place. This would also prevent any possible loss of containment risked by working on the existing shielding.

After only a couple of false starts, Eric completed the work on the first canister. Wincing, Eric gingerly activated the new shielding. With a small pop-buzz, the new shielding snapped into place, glowing faintly. Eric ran some tests and diagnostics, and the shield looked like it was holding just fine. Beautiful!

He now turned to the second canister and began work. He was in the middle of making an adjustment to a balky circuit when the weakened shielding on the canister began to flicker wildly. Before Eric could begin to back away, the canister's as-yet unrepaired shielding flared dazzlingly bright for a moment. As it did, an errant strand of energy arced over and stuck briefly to Eric's cybernetic arm. Eric suddenly felt a shock snap through his cybernetics and into his flesh. There was a brief but searing pain at the contact,and the canister's shielding suddenly winked out of existence.

Eric's eyes snapped wide open. "Computer, scan containment field for the organism!" he shouted as he frantically completed the repairs. He kind of drifted to a stop when the computer replied, =/\= No organisms detected. Internal energy overload from shielding terminated all contained lifeforms. No activity detected. =/\=

Eric was dumbfounded. From his readings, the canister's shielding was weak, but still viable. It shouldn't even have had enough power for a discharge like that. However, after several more scans and confirming that the second canister's contents now proved no danger, there was nothing to be done but wrap it up. Eric and the rest of the team spent a few more minutes painstakingly going over every inch of the cargo bay and confirming that no foreign organisms were in the air, and then Eric said "Computer, lower the containment field."

And with that, the field around the pod winked out of existence. The pod now lay exposed, its own shielding now repaired and operating. Its secrets were a little closer to the surface.

Eric tapped his combadge. "Thorson to Captain Drake. Sir, the shielding on the remaining canister is in place and holding. The organisms in one of the canisters were all killed when some sort of energy flare-up in the shielding occurred. However, as I said, the other canister is now operating under its own shielding and holding stable. Direct contact with the pod is now possible, so further study and scanning can be done at your discretion."

(OOC: Assuming Drake's acknowledgement, response, further order of some sort)

"Understood, sir. Thorson out."

He then turned to Lieutenant Sa'eridon, who had come to the bay even on her off hours. Eric was impressed, and made a mental note to add a commendation to her file. She had a habit of going above and beyond. "Lieutenant, thanks very much for helping us out on your off time. I hate to impose, but you're my best person with scanning. I wonder if you could spend some time going over that pod, now that the containment field is down. We still have a couple of hours before we reach the starbase, and I have a feeling we can learn a lot more about their engineering than we already have. I'm sure Science and Medical will have their own people here, so I'd appreciate it if you could carry the flag for Engineering and see how we can broaden our engineering knowledge."

(OOC: Assuming Karri's acknowledgement)

"Thank you, Lieutenant. I'll be in Sickbay."

Stardate 2365.02.07
USS Peregrine, Cargo Bay One - 1300

Karri was greeted to a most interesting show, watching commander Thorson personally work on the pod.

"Lieutenant, thanks very much for helping us out on your off time. I hate to impose, but you're my best person with scanning. I wonder if you could spend some time going over that pod, now that the containment field is down. We still have a couple of hours before we reach the starbase, and I have a feeling we can learn a lot more about their engineering than we already have. I'm sure Science and Medical will have their own people here, so I'd appreciate it if you could carry the flag for Engineering and see how we can broaden our engineering knowledge."
Karri stood a little straighter when addressed, but couldn't help the smirking grin or the flick in her tail of excitement when asked to help.

"Aye sir!" Karri quickly grabbing a scanner an data pad, Karri paused.

"...An commander Thorson. work is never an imposition, an thank you." Karri gave a shy half smile, before turning toward the pod in eagerness.

Stardate 2365.02.07
USS Peregrine, "The Garden" - 1305
Horatio paced the garden looking for his heaviest pair of gloves, smiling. He always smiled when he made a new botanical discovery.

As he pulled the gloves onto his hands, the door to the lab chimed with Ensign Maize's arrival.

"Sir, I've received word that Lieutenant Thorson has released the containment field on the pod." She informed him.

"Very good." He absentmindedly replied, turning to a green leafy plant with what appeared to be red and black beads dotting it in several dozens of places.

"Sir? If I may ask, what are you doing?" She asked, her curiosity getting the best of her.

"Do you see this plant, Dalia?"

"Yes, sir."

"This is an earth plant called a Rosary Pea Plant. Each of these peas contains a toxic substance called abrin, and a handful of these peas would kill an average homosapien, but taste as delicious as any sweet you could eat going down." Horatio said, almost lackadaisically.

Horrified, Ensign Dalia became more aware of her surroundings and just how little she knew of what happened in the garden. "...sir? Why are you growing a deadly plant on the ship?"

"Do you see this plant?" Horatio gestured to a plant near the rosary pea, considerably larger with leaves of a reddish green color, speckled by small brown...walnuts?
"Yes, sir."

"This is a castor bean plant. Normally, the beans of this plant can be mashed to make castor oil, which is a quality lubricating substance, but the left over product can be used to create a toxin called ricin, a cousin of abrin. Both, on earth, are considered two of the deadliest poisons possible." Lt. Tesenblen turned to face her. Continuing, he said, "Do you know why I'm so happy today, Ensign?" He asked.

"No, sir." she said plainly.

"I've managed, I believe, to breed these two together, to combine the effects of these two toxins into this plant," he said as he gestured to the plant he stood in front of. These reddish brown peas, by my calculations will have a new toxin containing both effects of ricin and abrin." He said excitedly. "If I'm right, by studying these peas, I may, possibly, be able to use the cell killing capabilities of these to cure diseases such as cancer." Horatio said finally.

"How can something so absolutely deadly be so absolutely useful?" she said skeptically.

"That, my good friend, is a story for another day." He laughed. "Now, about the pod. Doctor Synklar has ordered me to light duties. I want you to go to the cargo bay in my place, find out whatever you can, and report back to me with your findings."

"Aye, Lieutenant." She said beaming. "I won't let you down."

"Frankly, Dalia, if I thought you would, I'd be going myself. I have absolute faith in you. I'll be here in the garden when you're done." He said dismissively.

"Aye sir." she replied, turning to leave. As she reached the door, she turned back one last time, "Thank you, Lieutenant."

Acknowledging her gratitude, he turned back to his work on his new creation.

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

Stardate 2365.02.07
USS Peregrine, Cargo Bay One - 1330
Ensign Dalia Maize stepped into cargo bay one full of hope, energy, and determination to make Lt. Tesenblen proud. She had no plans to leave until she learned everything she could about the pod.

"Good day, Lieutenant Thorson." She said respectfully as she began gearing up to start scanning the craft.

(OOC: Assuming some non-order, non-questioning greeting)

Setting up her equipment, Dalia began an overall scan of the craft before her. She immediately noted that there were no fluctuations in the readings as there were in space hours before.

"Lieutenant Thorson, is there something different about the craft? I'm not seeing any variance in the overall scans anymore."

(OOC: Assuming answer)

"Ah, I see. Thank you, sir." she replied.

As she completed her overall scan, she started a closer, in depth scan of the hull of the craft.

She began to notice there were actually microscopic cracks in the hull of the ship... Is it cracks? It looks like the pod was beginning to crack open...or even it looks like parts of the pod were shifting on a molecular level. I wonder... she thought carefully.

Further examining the cracks, she began to get a feeling that the pod could have been ejected at warp speed, which would lead to the restructuring she was witnessing. "I wonder if it was the result of what was in those canisters." she mumbled aloud.

Gasping, she realized the containment breach may have been triggered by whatever caused these cracks in the hull. If that were true though, the other container would be breached as well. These cracks must have been caused by the nanites... But why not affect a release on the other container too? So many questions and only a handful of hours left to figure it out.

Pleased with her efforts so far, she buckled down and kept studying various information on her screens.

((OOC: I'm allowing a little over an hour for the events of Duncan's post. If that is off base, I'll happily edit.))

Stardate 2365.02.07
USS Peregrine, Captain's Ready Room - 1405

The Captain sat at his desk, poring over figures on the PADD while the bread on a half eaten sandwich grew steadily harder in retribution for being forgotten. Everything he read about the warlike Kuldar people made him less and less comfortable with this mission. From what he could gather, the Kuldar loved conflict, and unlike some societies, had no compunction about silly things such as honor. Instead, they were quite pragmatic in their approach, favoring ambush, sabotage, and subterfuge wherever possible in order to weaken their enemy.

While Silas had no real fear of the ability for the Kuldar ships to harm the Peregrine, he had no such sense of ease regarding the Coronado. The outdated Miranda class vessel was undergunned, the weapon systems were out of date, her shielding was relatively poor, she lacked modern armor, and - at least when compared to a fast frigate like the Peregrine - she had the maneuverability of a bucket.

This is a peace summit, Silas. Relax. He tried to reason with himself, but success in the undertaking was limited, at best. The entire situation just put him ill at ease.

=/\=Bridge to Captain Drake,=/\= came a feminine voice. =/\=You have a message from Starfleet Command.=/\=

Silas tapped his commbadge in reply. "Send it through, please."

=/\=Aye, sir.=/\= came the answer.

Moments later, his viewscreen display changed to the Starfleet logo. According to the readout, he had not one, but two messages. The first was a positive outcome that was quite pleasing, though no major surprise.

Stardate: 42133.1
From: Starfleet Command
To: Commander Silas Drake, USS Peregrine
Subject: re: Flight Control Staffing request

Commander,

After considering your reasoning, we are pleased to grant your staffing request. Attached is the dossier of Ensign Herbert Thomason, Flight Control officer. Ensign Thomason will join you when you reach Starbase 118.

Regards,
Commander Jacin Parat
Starfleet Command Personnel

The Captain smiled. Lieutenant Zai would be pleased that the Flight Control department aboard the Peregrine would finally be able to man most of their own shifts. Truth be told, it made Drake himself feel better - cross training was all well and good, but he vastly preferred having a starship pilot at the controls whose primary job entailed flying. Otherwise, it felt a bit like going to a doctor who told you that this was his second job, that he normally worked on shuttlecraft.

Silas glanced over the attached dossier; it looked like this would be the Ensign's first real assignment. That was no major surprise; he had no illusions that Starfleet would spare a highly experienced officer to be the third pilot aboard a tiny ship like the Peregrine. However, at least he was a real helmsman!

Slightly smiling, Drake absentmindedly picked up his ever staling sandwich and took a bite as he loaded the next message. The smile quickly melted from his face, and he dropped the sandwich, where it slipped off the edge of the plate and came to rest, unnoticed, upon the surface of the desk.

Conflicted. That was as good a description as any for his emotions. While Drake had to be happy for his friend, this would throw more uncertainty into the mix of the ship's crew. Silas liked this group of people, and to lose one of them - even under such circumstances - well... selfishly, he just didn't like it. Especially not right before they flew off into a mission that put the Captain at edge. He couldn't seem to shake the feeling that this just could not be such a simple assignment, and losing such a relied upon pillar of the ship was frustrating. Worse, he would be relying on someone he knew nothing about.

Drake shook his head. Since when did a little change bother you so much? he mused.

The communicator chimed again, breaking the Captain's sulking reverie.

=/\=Thorson to Captain Drake.

Sir, the shielding on the remaining canister is in place and holding. The organisms in one of the canisters were all killed when some sort of energy flare-up in the shielding occurred. However, as I said, the other canister is now operating under its own shielding and holding stable. Direct contact with the pod is now possible, so further study and scanning can be done at your discretion.=/\=

The Captain frowned. "Good news, Commander. By all means, let's employ our full resources to study this thing.

Now, then... was anyone nearby when the flare-up occurred? Are you quite certain that the organisms were killed?"

((OOC: assuming Thorson tells the truth))

A chill punched Silas in the gut. Right now, they didn't know anything for sure; the containers on the escape pod could have nothing at all to do with the body. For all they knew, the organisms could be for water treatment. And yet... something told Silas that caution was far and away the better part of valor, here.

"Be that as it may," Drake responded, "I would very much prefer that you go and see Doctor Synklar, just to be certain. In fact, Eric... let's make that an order. Go directly to Sickbay, please. I want the doctor to confirm a clean bill of health for you."

((OOC: assuming a positive reply))

"Very good," the Captain replied. "Keep me posted as to any further discoveries regarding the pod. Drake out."

Stardate 2365.02.07
USS Peregrine; Deck 2, XO's Office - 1500

Tochi stifled a yawn as the door to his office whispered shut behind him. Then, rubbing at his spot-dappled temples in order to ease away the beginnings of a headache, he made his way behind his desk and allowed himself to flop, somewhat unceremoniously into the chair. The previously suppressed yawn came out, then, as a rather heavy sigh that registered somewhere between tedium and contentment. He chuckled softly at the sound of it and let his eyes close for a moment, reclining in the chair as his fingers moved from his temples to the back of his neck.

"Ahh, what a day," he chuffed at the ceiling before opening his eyes and assuming a somewhat less relaxed posture, "and it's nowhere near finished,"

For what had begun as just another, tedious tour of the waypoints on the patrol route, it was looking to end with all of the excitement the Peregrine and her crew had been denied for the past six weeks packed into twelve short hours. First, the encounter with the Hekaran lifeboat had thrown the whole ship into an over-exuberant flurry of activity that, according to the steady stream of reports Tochi received throughout the day, was still ongoing. It was good, of course, that the crew had something aside from the status quo to occupy them, and, certainly, there was something to be discovered in it's continued study, but, as it turned out, the pod and it's contents would be turned over to the Serapis when Peregrine reached Starbase 118.

Therein lied the second twist in what he had fully expected to be another straight-as-a-pin day; Starfleet Command had ordered Peregrine out of the purgatory of patrol and into escort duty on a diplomatic mission, of all things. Tochi had, at first, worried that such an assignment would be about as exciting as the past six weeks had been, especially given the strict orders that the crew of the escort ship would have no interaction, at all, with the emissaries from either faction. From what he'd managed to read (between reviewing reports and tending to his actual command duties) throughout the course of the day, though, with the Kuldar involved, anything was possible. He wasn't altogether sure about the Rytains, either, but he hadn't had the chance to fully review those files, as yet.

Then, as another kink in the reel, there had been a flurry of personnel changes announced; some of them exciting and, others, not so much. Lt Chell would be transferring off at Starbase 118 and Peregrine's new Ops Chief would be transferring on. That was the not-so-exciting announcement, at least, in Tochi's mind. Chell had made an excellent Chief of Operations and, in the short time they had served together, Tochi had come to consider the Bolian a friend. Chell would certainly be missed,

Tochi smirked, stretched, and, then, rose from his seat and crossed the floor to the replicator. "Saurian brandy," the Trill ordered, "warmed."

The replicator chirped confirmation and produced the requested beverage in a short tapered glass. "Here's to you, Korvin," Tochi said, lifting the glass in salute, "We're sorry to see you go." He took a sip, wincing a little at the fiery taste of the stuff, and started back toward his desk.

,The good news where the personnel shifts were concerned, though, was that Flight Control would be gaining a new helmsman at Starbase 118. An honest to goodness, Academy Flight School trained, helmsman! That news had warmed Lt Zai's heart much like the Saurian brandy was, now, warming his throat.

Between this Ensign Thomason - who's dossier we still need to read, by the way, he mused, indulging in another sip of the brandy as he reclaimed the seat behind his desk, ¬ and Petty Officer Owen taking shifts at CONN, we can finally free up some of the other dep,
The door chime called for attention, three times, in rapid succession, just then, causing Zai to lose his thought and, also, swallow his brandy faster than he'd intended.

How the frill does she do that, he wondered, clearing his throat in an attempt to soothe the sudden burn.

"It's open," he called.

The door opened and, as quickly as Petty Officer Owen appeared in front of him, Lt Zai couldn't help but wonder if she had walked through the door or, instead, teleported through it.

"PettyOfficerOwenreportingasorderedsir!"

Tochi grinned, no, Tochi outright beamed, looking at the young shuttle pilot, now. She was standing there, at attention, but it was one of the most frenetic examples of stillness he could have ever have hoped to have seen. Stick straight and still but practically vibrating with the excitement she was trying to contain. Her elfin face, too, seemed to be struggling to maintain a stoic expression; her eyes sparkled and popped as if there were fireworks going off inside them, her cheeks were flushed a vibrant pink, and she was doing a terrible job of trying not to smile. In fact, it was as if invisible hands had grabbed the corners of her mouth and, regardless how hard she fought against them, were managing to pull them up into a full-on, toothy, face-splitter of a smile.

Next, that hair of hers is going to explode, he thought, Better do something about that.
"At ease, Petty Officer," Tochi smiled, "Please," he gestured to the chair opposite him, "have a seat."

"Ooooh," she tittered, "Idon'dare,sir.I'mnighonpessin'myknickersasitis,sir!"

Tochi couldn't help but laugh out loud at that. He managed to contain himself with a third sip of the brandy, though, and, following that sip, he set the glass down and rose from his seat, again. "Do you know why you're here, Megan," he asked, coming around from behind the desk, hands clasped behind his back.

Megan made a funny little squealing noise in her throat before squeaking out; "Jesusan'Mary,sir,yessir,IthinkIdo,sir."

Tochi managed to resist the urge to laugh out loud, again, by folding his arms across his chest and leaning against his desk as he watched her: "And you think you're ready to sit a shift or three a week at CONN, do you?"

"OhGod,Ido,sir!Permissiontospeakfreely,sir?"

Megan was dancing on the inside and it showed on the outside. Tochi was almost scared of what would happen after he said; "Of course."

What Megan did next wasn't exactly considered speaking, it was more an ear-splitting squeal of pure, unadulterated joy, and then, as if the vocal freedom had spilled uncontrollably over into the realm of the physical, the little woman launched herself across the space between them, thudded into Tochi's chest, and wrapped her arms around him with a force that a humanoid of her size should never have been able to muster.

EEP! We're being climbed!

"Thank you, sir," she squeaked into his chest, "thankyouthankyou,"

She'd said it three more times before Tochi realized that she was sobbing the words more than squeaking them, now. He returned her embrace, then, and smiled; "You're more than welcome, Megan. You've earned it, Now, if you don't mind letting me go. You're soaking my uniform."

Stardate 2365.02.07
USS Peregrine, Cargo Bay One - 1330

Eric had just entered the containment field to attempt the shield repairs when he noticed Ensign Maize enter the cargo bay. He was glad to see that Lieutenant Tesenblen was giving his junior staff members some valuable experience. And he was quite sure that the assignment was merited; young Maize seemed like she was going to make a fine Chief Science Officer someday.

"Good day, Lieutenant Thorson," Maize said in a respectful tone. "Hello, Ensign Maize," Eric replied, the purple energy of the containment field shimmering between them. "I hope you're prepared to be mystified, astounded, and amazed!" He said with a grin. "This pod has some fascinating stuff going on all over it. I'm about to be a bit a bit busy inside the containment field here, but feel free to ask Petty Officer Toporov there if you need anything."

He watched her set up her scanning gear in a very efficient and professional manner, noting that Tesenblen definitely had a good one here. And then,it was time to get to work. It was only seconds after the shielding was repaired that Maize called, "Lieutenant Thorson, is there something different about the craft? I'm not seeing any variance in the overall scans anymore." She's a quick catch, Eric thought. She picked up the change in readings immediately after the shielding was repaired. "Yes, Ensign," Eric said a bit shakily, as he recovered from his almost-catastrophe, "I just got the shielding repaired on one of the pods, and the other is now inert. Your fluctuations were caused by the intermittent weakening and flickering of the shielding. You should get stable readings now." "Ah, I see. Thank you, sir," Maize replied.

And with that, Eric headed to get out of this suit.

Cargo Bay One - 1410

Eric had just made his report to the captain after lowering the containment field. =/\= Good news, Commander, =/\= Drake replied. =/\= By all means, let's employ our full resources to study this thing. Now, then... was anyone nearby when the flare-up occurred? Are you quite certain that the organisms were killed? =/\= "I was performing the repairs myself when it happened, sir. I was pretty close, and caught a bit of a shock when the one canister's shielding overloaded. But all scans confirm that all of the organisms in that canister were overwhelmed by the overload. Every organism still in the canister is completely inert and showing no signs of life processes. They were definitely killed. And it was a mild shock, considering. I feel fine now." =/\= Be that as it may, =/\= Drake responded, =/\= I would very much prefer that you go and see Doctor Synklar, just to be certain. In fact, Eric... let's make that an order. Go directly to Sickbay, please. I want the doctor to confirm a clean bill of health for you. =/\=

Eric resigned himself to a bit of probing and prodding. That was alright, though; Doctor Synklar was one of the best doctors Eric had served with. And he would know; he had run through his fair share of them after the Maxia Zeta debacle, back in his Stargazer days. And, he admitted to himself, it would be good to make sure nothing weird had happened when he got zapped. "Aye, sir, I'll head there right away," he told Drake. =/\= Very good, =/\= the captain replied. =/\= Keep me posted as to any further discoveries regarding the pod. Drake out. =/\=

Eric then got Lieutenant Sa'eridon squared away on doing her analyses of the pod for Engineering, bid her farewell, and headed for Sickbay.

Stardate 2365.02.07
Starbase 118, Flight Simulations - 1235
Having been given the day off, Hebert found the best way to calm his jitters from his coming meeting with his new crew was to practice what he was good at in flight control simulations.

As he went through various simulations, he began at impulse, recalling what one of his instructors at the Academy told him nearly constantly, "During spaceflight at impulse, Conn is responsible for monitoring relativistic effects as well the inertial damping system status."

Of course, when he first heard it, it made literally no sense to him, but now, having spent so many hours in preparation and practice, these simulations became like muscle memory to him.

As he progressed through the difficulties, factoring in things like asteroids and proceeding to warp speed, he recalled another lesson from his instructor. "When traveling at warp speed, Conn is required to monitor the subspace field geometry in parallel with the engineering department."

He realized, of course, that thinking about the different departments reminded him that he still had a ship load of people to meet. Hebert Thomason He thought loudly to himself. Get a hold of yourself, son. This is just another day for you. You're pretty flagging fantastic, and they'll see it too. His personal speech lifted his flailing self esteem. "I'm good at what I do. I'm an asset to the USS Peregrine, and they'll see that soon too." He chuckled. "Besides, I doubt any of the other FCO's could power lift the CONN console." He laughed.

An alarm in the simulation snapped Ensign Thomason back to reality. Correcting the variance that had occurred, he thought back to his instructor's final speech about warp speed. "During warp flight, the Conn console continually updates long-range sensor data and makes automatic course corrections to adjust for minor variations in the density of the interstellar medium."

He realized at that moment he had forgotten to connect the "CONN"sole (He always chuckled at his joke) to the long range sensors. I get that it's a simulation, but you would THINK that the long range sensors would ALWAYS be connected to necessary systems in a starship that's supposed to fly around the galaxy... he mused sourly, irritated that such an amateur mistake had gotten him from his day dreaming.

"Looks like another hour in the gym for me," he muttered to no one in particular, avoiding another close call with an asteroid, informing that asteroid of his exact opinion of it, under his breath of course, as an honorable officer of Starfleet would never utter such words around decent people.

"It's going to be a long day."

((OOC: I have cleared this post with Ayrn ahead of time.))

Stardate 2365.02.07
USS Peregrine, Captain's Ready Room - 1510

Silas leaned back in his chair and frowned. Much like the partially eaten sandwich that stared reproachfully at him from the corner of his desk, the issue that weighed on his mind wouldn't go away on its own. With a resigned sigh, the Captain stood, collected the plate and leavings of his lunch, and placed it in the replicator for recycling. He then keyed his commbadge and spoke as he made his way back to the desk.

"Drake to Lieutenant Chell."

The reply was swift, as always. =/\=Chell here. What can I do for you, Captain?"=/\=

"Lieutenant, if you are available, please come to my Ready Room." Drake requested.

=/\=On my way,=/\= was the answer.

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

Within a couple of minutes, the door chime rang. "Come in," Drake said.

The door hissed open to reveal the stocky, blue-skinned Operations Chief. "Lieutenant Chell reporting. You wanted to see me, Captain?" the Bolian asked.

Silas nodded. "Indeed, Lieutenant." He gestured to the empty chair across the desk. "Please, have a seat."

Chell did so, fixing the Captain with a somewhat curious expression.

"Korvin," Silas began as he gestured to his PADD, "I've been looking over your service record. You've always been efficient, organized, resourceful. You're well thought of by your commanding officers, your peers, your underlings. You're an asset to Starfleet in every sense of the word."

Drake wasn't entirely sure of Bolian physiology, but he thought he detected a slight discoloration of the skin on Chell that could be equivalent to a blush. The Ops chief did seem somewhat surprised by the praise. "Well... ah, thank you, sir." came the reply.

"I'm not the only one who has noticed, Lieutenant. In fact, an hour ago, I received a transmission from Starfleet command." Drake gestured to his PADD. "When you leave my office, Korvin, you need to pack; I have orders here for your transfer to the USS Cherokee, a New Orleans class explorer under the command of Joshua Grimes. You are to assume the role of Chief Operations officer there, as well as that of Second Officer. The Cherokee is due at Starbase 118 in two days, but I expect our visit there to be rather short-lived; plan to disembark right away. Enjoy a few off shifts while you can."

Chell smiled, then frowned slightly. "Thank you, sir. What about the Peregrine? Lieutenant Moriden is a competent officer, but this is too much for anyone to handle alone."

The Captain nodded. "Thank you for your concern, Korvin. As I understand it, we will be taking on a new chief of operations at Starbase 118, who will try to fill your shoes."

Chell relaxed a bit at that. "Ah, very good."

Silas smiled. "There is one more thing, Korvin. A duty I have looked forward to performing, despite the fact that I am unhappy at the thought of losing you."

The Bolian looked puzzled, his hairless brows arching a bit.

Drake reached inside his desk and produced a hollow rank pip, which he placed in front of Chell. "Computer, record. By the authority invested in me by the United Federation of Planets, I, Commander Silas Drake, hereby promote Lieutenant Korvin Chell to Lieutenant Commander." Grinning widely, he stood and reached out to shake the Bolian's hand. "Congratulations."

For once, the professional Chell allowed a grin of is own to break through as he fastened the pip to his collar. He stood and returned the handshake heartily, and accepted Drake's congratulatory clap on the shoulder. "Thank you, Captain."

Drake smiled widely. "It is my pleasure - don't think I was going to let Grimes get the honor. Now, go - you need to pack, Commander."

Still wearing a bit of a grin, Chell nodded. "Aye, sir," he replied with a salute. Then, the Bolian spun on one heel and left the Ready Room.

Silas stood, lost in thought for a moment. Enough homework for now, he mused. Time to get the blood pumping. Mind made up, the Captain headed to his quarters for a change of clothes, with a target destination of deck five and a run.