Stardate 2365.02.19
USS Peregrine, Captain's Mess - 1615

The Captain sat at the head of the table, his head spinning a bit.  He had expected a small amount of chaos - and the tweaking from Tochi about training a new Captain was both expected and amusing - but he was not prepared for the information being presented.  A security breach?  After everything the Peregrine and her crew had been through over the past couple of weeks, there was a traitor in their midst?

Silas felt his face flush with the anger boiling inside, and he found himself gripping the edge of the table as a way to focus.  He spoke in clipped tones.  "It sounds like you have your first major project, then, Lieutenant Nyle - I want complete diagnostics performed on all of Lieutenant Sh'iraolnas' computer gear.  Set up a monitor.  Lieutenant Sh'iraolnas, once the monitor routine is confirmed, I want you to start keying your research again." He then turned back to Nyle.  "When the data is invariably wiped, you can hopefully trace what process did so, and where this process initiated - if not by whom."

The Captain frowned before addressing the Andorian again.  "Have you entered your research on any equipment that isn't specifically yours?  As in, besides your own personal terminal, PADD or department terminals?  If Nyle cannot find anything, the next step may be to rip out all of your physical equipment and replace it with new gear, on the off chance that it has been phsyically altered in some way."  His gaze settled on the Chief Engineer.  "Eric, if it comes to that, I want you to personally oversee the new equipment."

Silas gritted his teeth.  "I want this traitor found.  Starfleet Intelligence may want to enjoy a nice chat with them... provided they don't run into an airlock mishap before then." 

Drake supposed that he was kidding, though some of the new officers might not appreciate such dark humor.  Then again, given recent events... they would have to either understand, or they would have to deal with it. 

A thought occured to Silas.  "Nyle, I wonder... your computer issue seems rather odd.  As does the timing.  You may want to coordinate with Engineering on this, and Lieutenant Tal feels that she has some resources that may be of use to you. I wonder if this might be related in any way to the vanishing report; I am not much of a believer in coincidences."

OOC: any responses, expositions, etc...

Drake sat back in his chair.  "Very well.  I have reviewed the refit and resupply reports, as well as the crew trnasfer orders.  Is there anything else here that needs to be brought to my attention?"

OOC: speak now...

The Captain nodded.  "In that case, I won't take up any more of your time.  Dismissed."

Stardate 2365.02.19
USS Peregrine, Captain's Mess - 1615

The Captain sat at the head of the table, his head spinning a bit.  He had expected a small amount of chaos - and the tweaking from Tochi about training a new Captain was both expected and amusing - but he was not prepared for the information being presented.  A security breach?  After everything the Peregrine and her crew had been through over the past couple of weeks, there was a traitor in their midst?

Silas felt his face flush with the anger boiling inside, and he found himself gripping the edge of the table as a way to focus.  He spoke in clipped tones.  "It sounds like you have your first major project, then, Lieutenant Nyle - I want complete diagnostics performed on all of Lieutenant Sh'iraolnas' computer gear.  Set up a monitor.  Lieutenant Sh'iraolnas, once the monitor routine is confirmed, I want you to start keying your research again." He then turned back to Nyle.  "When the data is invariably wiped, you can hopefully trace what process did so, and where this process initiated - if not by whom."

The Captain frowned before addressing the Andorian again.  "Have you entered your research on any equipment that isn't specifically yours?  As in, besides your own personal terminal, PADD or department terminals?  If Nyle cannot find anything, the next step may be to rip out all of your physical equipment and replace it with new gear, on the off chance that it has been phsyically altered in some way."  His gaze settled on the Chief Engineer.  "Eric, if it comes to that, I want you to personally oversee the new equipment."

Silas gritted his teeth.  "I want this traitor found.  Starfleet Intelligence may want to enjoy a nice chat with them... provided they don't run into an airlock mishap before then."  

Drake supposed that he was kidding, though some of the new officers might not appreciate such dark humor.  Then again, given recent events... they would have to either understand, or they would have to deal with it.  

A thought occured to Silas.  "Nyle, I wonder... your computer issue seems rather odd.  As does the timing.  You may want to coordinate with Engineering on this, and Lieutenant Tal feels that she has some resources that may be of use to you. I wonder if this might be related in any way to the vanishing report; I am not much of a believer in coincidences."

At the mention of "coincidences", Tal nods and looks to Nyle and Sh'iraolnas each in turn. "Both of you contact me when you're ready to tackle this problem. I share the distrust of coincidences as well, at the very least the possibility must be investigated." She looks to Drake, "I very much feel this is a potential security issue. This potential saboteur may only be attacking data, but there's nothing to say they can't access other ship systems if they so desire. Which... concerns me."

Drake sat back in his chair.  "Very well.  I have reviewed the refit and resupply reports, as well as the crew transfer orders.  Is there anything else here that needs to be brought to my attention?"

Tal hmms and raises an eyebrow, looking at Drake, "If you'd care to stop by my department at some point, we're working on a little surprise for you, some code. If we're to be dealing with pirates soon, it could be a timely tool to use." She looks around, "If anyone from Engineering is interested in what we're working on, feel free to accompany the Captain, with his permission of course."

The Captain nodded.  "In that case, I won't take up any more of your time.  Dismissed."

((Collab with josie))

Stardate 2365.02.19
USS Peregrine; Deck 4, Sickbay - 1500

A slight Vulcan man enters the Med Bay. He's tugging at the collar of his uniform (which is standard Starfleet Medical issue) uncomfortably, muttering, "This is incredibly uncomfortable. What a fool I was-" then he notices his now commanding officer standing there looking down at him with a look of amusement on her face. Her clears his throat and casually pulls his finger away from his neck, swallowing silently in the process. "Uh, Doctor Reine?"

"Ah, Mister Saril," Melody replied, attempting to keep her amusement at bay. She remembered her first time in the uniform as well, and that telltale collar tug was all too familiar. However, there seemed to be more troubling him than his uniform, "how may I be of service?"

"Ah well, I'm uh, reporting for duty. Sir." Reporting to a human, no less. Did my uncle send me here as some kind of exercise in humility? Shouldn't my years of experience at the Science Academy be enough for me to move onto becoming a doctor? As he's thinking, he clears his throat and adds, "As you likely have been informed, I am a student at the Vulcan Science Academy and I have been sent to gain field experience in my studies to become a doctor. I look forward to working alongside you and learning from you, Doctor Reine, sir." I hope I'm not "laying it on too thick," as Kara Tal says. What a strange Earth phrase she uses... I need to make a good impression, though. Humans show a remarkable tendency towards favoritism and if I fail to appeal to that, I may be stuck with the worst of the duties.

"The feeling is mutual, welcome aboard," she'd eyed the young man, likely brilliant, as any Vulcan Science Academy student would be. There was a lot going on in that mind, and for once she was grateful she could not read it, "Let me show you where you will be doing much of your work."

She stopped, gesturing to his station, "Here you are. I trust you will find everything to your liking. If not, please let me or Chief Cook know. We run a tight department here, questions are welcome, and we only require you do everything correct the very first time," she gave him a small smile, "Any contention there?"

He shakes his head and seems relieved, "Thankfully not, sir. I suppose we would be out of work if we didn't do it right the first time." He grimaces in something very vaguely resembling a smile. She seems...professional. Maybe this won't be as stultifying as I have been anticipating thus far. That would be... pleasant. "Sir, is there anything else you need to inform me of? Otherwise I will begin familiarizing myself with my station. I expect it will match the specifications that I've reviewed in my preparation for this posting. Ah, and are there any patient or staff files you need me to review once I have completed my inspection?"

"Nothing of consequence quite yet, Mister Saril, however I have another lab specialist working on a project that could very well use your assistance. I'll give you some time to acquaint yourself and send Miss Suharto your way to catch you up." She stepped away from his station and began making her way back to the door, "Unless there is anything else I can help you with at the moment, I will leave you to your devices."

As Saril opens his mouth to respond, Lieutenant Kara Tal strides in casually and his mouth slams shut, his cheeks turn a bright red, and he finally manages to say (with more formality than he's demonstrate combined so far), "Sir, yes sir."

Melody noted a change in his complexion that she had very rarely ever seen on a Vulcan, "Very well, carry on."

Lt Tal notices him, nods to him, and his blush deepens. He nods back, turns away, then practically runs over to the aforementioned Miss Suharto. Grinning with amusement at his distress, Tal greets Reine, "Doctor Reine, it's my pleasure to meet you after two years of Vulcan bedside manner," she chuckles.

Reine returns her smile. She herself had had the pleasure of that manner several times in the past, "It's a pleasure to finally meet you as well, Lieutenant".

Tal clears her throat, "However, I'm afraid this isn't entirely a casual visit, so if this isn't a good time, I can return later. I'm sure you've been as busy as I have, settling into your department. Perhaps even more so."

The doctor clasped her hands behind her back, "Nothing I can't set aside for our chief tactical officer." As with each of the other officers upon her first interactions with them, Lt. Tal's service and medical history flashed through her mind. She had been one of the officers Reine was most interested in meeting and assessing. "What can I do for you?"

Lt Tal nods, "I'm sure you've had a chance to look at my medical records, so you know I have Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. I've spent the last two years on Vulcan learning how to cope with it so I can come back and do my duty, but part of managing this issue is clear communication with my support network. I want to establish that line of communication with you today." She sighs, "And I regret to inform you I've had a slightly nagging headache ever since I boarded. Not bad enough to prevent me from doing my duties, but it gives me cause for concern."

At her complaint, Reine heads to one of the open stations, "Thank you for coming down here. I have read your file and would like to assure you that I am at your disposal, should you need me". She reaches for a small container that clacks when she opens it, and requests a glass of water from the replicator, "I don't recall nagging headaches in your medical records, is this a new occurance?"

Tal smiles. She's sharp. Good, I think I might like this one. "I've had stress headaches in the past, nothing worth noting though." Should I tell her what I really think? It's ridiculous though. Her smile quirks, "I don't think it's anything more than stress from coming back to active duty, really."

Reine holds out the glass of water and the tiny cup containing one small pill, Tal nods and takes the pill, dry-swallowing it, then drinking the water as Reine explains, "If you've suffered from headaches in the past, this will likely be familiar. It's an analgesic, excellent for headache relief. Report back to me if you don't see any changes. Now," she leanes back against the counter, "you did say it gave you cause for concern. Can you tell me what those concerns are?" She looks around the fairly empty room, "We can move into my office if you prefer."

"Why don't we," Tal states rhetorically, moving towards Reine's office. Once inside, Reine takes a seat behind her desk and gestures to the chair across from her. Tal sighs and asks, "Well, I've gotten rusty at lying living on Vulcan, haven't I? What should I tell you?"

"What do you need to tell me? As I've said, I've been through your record. Thoroughly." She smiles a little despite herself, "I realize that can sound intimidating. It's simply part of my duty to ensure our officers are and remain in good health. Inside and out." She leans back in her chair and rests her hands in her lap, "So Lieutenant, if there is something causing you concern, let me know and we can work out a plan together."

Sighing again, but now in the sense of exhaling her tension, Tal says, "The other times I've had headaches like this, something bad has happened - and not because of me." Great. She's probably going to think I'm unfit for duty after saying that. Steady on, me.

A moment passes as Melody considers Tal's words. She continues slowly, "Did you have a similar headache before the attack on the Niobe?"

The color drains from the CTO's face and her breathing grows ragged, remembering, "I thought it was just the stress of my duties...but yes. I had a headache like this for nearly two months before the attack on the Niobe. It was worse than this, though. I became quite familiar with those little pills like the one you gave me. Look, I'm sure it's just a coincidence. Humanoids have a habit of seeing patterns where there aren't any. It's why your ancestors thought there was a face on Mars." Kara Tal sighs, "And I'm sure my mental health could have something to do with this."

"It's a possibility. Humans can tend to be a little more . . . enthusiastic than safe, in regard to both their well-being and their pocketbooks." Reine softens, noting how rigid the Lieutenant had become at the mention of the Niobe, "If it makes you feel better, I don't want to talk about the specifics of your past right now. If you'd like to of course, we can, but I'm more interested in what brought you here to see me."

Reine had experienced her own personal kinds of trauma not too long ago. While there was no feasible way of comparing the two, she could relate to the feeling of someone pressing on those exposed nerves. The line between discerning information from a patient in order to help them and pressing on that nerve in such a way as to close yourself off to the true crux of their concern, and in turn any way to truly help, can be ambiguous at best.

She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk, "You mentioned there were other times bad things happened after experiencing similar headaches. Even if they aren't truly related, would you mind sharing with me what these other experiences were?"

"Mhmm," Tal nods, "The first time I noticed it was when I was working a case back in the Service. We were running a sting and I started to have the headaches. A week into the sting, we were ambushed. Then once when I was walking home from work I was jumped and almost knocked out. I had to draw my service phaser and..."

She sighs, "It seems like I always end up having to kill someone." She frowns heavily, "I don't mean to sound flippant. I hate having to do it, but it seems inevitable in the line of work I'm in. I envy you, Doctor. You hands heal, they don't harm." I can still see the face of that kid that I shot. He was young and I wasn't that many years older. He could have been an orphan like I am, starving on the street. She shakes her head, breaking her reverie, "I'm sorry Doctor Reine, I was just remembering the kid I shot, he was too young. You didn't want the specifics though."

After a moment's thought, she continues, "The next time was in academy. I had... accessed some records that were off-limits to me. This time I didn't have to kill anyone, but someone still died - the mentor I met through that misadventure." The look on her face is grim and she shakes her head, "It was suspicious to me. But the investigation... well. Regardless, the next time I had a headache was before I met Ensign Forb's older sister. Our relationship was a contentious one, though now she apparently admires me. People are strange." She shakes her head.

Reine stifled the chuckle that almost escaped at that, "There aren't many truths I've found to be more consistent than that one." She looks down at her hands, the ones the Lieutenant envies, the ones that are supposed to heal. She then shakes her head as well, looking back across the desk at Tal.

"Thank you for sharing all of this with me. I know it isn't easy, and I hope you know I wouldn't press you on anything I didn't think was useful in understanding how to support you in the best possible manner." Another small smile tugs at the corner of her mouth, "And for the record, it's not that I don't care about the specifics. I do. And maybe one day you'll feel comfortable enough to share them. And maybe not. But when you're here, we're here for you. If we need the specifics in order to properly care for you or our crew, I trust that you would supply them. If we don't need them and you don't want to share, no one here will pressure you. Chief Cook and I will see to that personally."

"Thank you. It's... different having someone else protecting me. I appreciate it. It's alright if I talk to Chief Cook about this too, if I come back and you're not here?" Tal asks with a smile.

"Yes, of course. If you're alright with sharing with the Chief I can meet with her to discuss what you and I cover when we meet and visa versa." Melody glances at the time on the PADD, "You may actually be meeting with her soon too, she's working on creating the schedule for physicals for the new crew members today."

"Of course, it's important to have a working relationship with both of you. With my luck, I'll be spending more time here in the future. Especially if this headache is, eh, correct. Well, with that said, I should probably prepare for the staff meeting and allow you to do the same. Keep an eye on Poe. He may be a handful at times, but he generally means well, at least in the long run," Tal shakes her head with a chuckle, turning to look in the direction of the room the short Vulcan man who's working busily is in.

Melody's grin pulls up the corner of her mouth, "A handful I can handle. I look forward to seeing what he's able to accomplish with us," she stands and walks around the desk and holds her hand out as the Lieutenant stands to meet her, which Tal takes firmly. Her skin is rough and warm, and despite the firmness of her grip, it's gentle enough not to crush Reine's hand, who continues, "And I look forward to working with you, both here and as our CTO."

She clasps her hands behind her back, "As far as whether your headache is correct or not, we'll keep an eye on it. Keep us up to date with any changes in its severity and frequency and I'll do some research of my own," she shrugs, "Maybe you're right and I'm letting my humanity show, but I'd rather be gullible than miss a warning." She motiones Tal to the door and walks her there, "I've seen and read so many strange and miraculous things since signing up at the academy, Lieutenant, this could be neither or both. Either way, let's work on figuring it out together."

"That sounds like a challenge that could benefit all of us. I would love to disprove my theory about the cause of these headaches. After all, as the ancient saying goes, correlation does not equate to causation," Tal says with an enthusiastic grin, "but if it is something, I'd like to know, so I can make the best use of it."

"It was nice meeting with you, Lieutenant, thank you for coming down to see me. I promise to keep a close watch on Mr. Saril for you. I'm sure he'll make you proud. I'll see you at the staff meeting." And with that Melody returns to check on her team as Tal strides out of the medbay with a grin on still on her face. 

Stardate 2365.02.19
USS Peregrine, Captain's Mess - 1615

Silas' face flushes with emotion and he grips the edge of the table. Speaking in clipped tones, he addresses the news, "It sounds like you have your first major project, then, Lieutenant Nyle—I want complete diagnostics performed on all of Lieutenant Sh'iraolnas' computer gear. Set up a monitor. Lieutenant Sh'iraolnas, once the monitor routine is confirmed, I want you to start keying your research again." He then turns back to Nyle. "When the data is invariably wiped, you can hopefully trace what process did so, and where this process initiated—if not by whom."

"Yes sir," Asovil responds dutifully. Though Drake's rage isn't aimed at her, she can feel the heat and instinctively part of her rises up ready to defend herself while another shrinks away. The conflicting emotions are quite the storm to contend with but on the outside, she remains as still as the dead.

The Captain frowns before addressing the Andorian again. "Have you entered your research on any equipment that isn't specifically yours? As in, besides your own personal terminal, PADD or department terminals? If Nyle cannot find anything, the next step may be to rip out all of your physical equipment and replace it with new gear, on the off chance that it has been physically altered in some way." His gaze settled on the Chief Engineer. "Eric, if it comes to that, I want you to personally oversee the new equipment."

"Sir," Lt. Sh'iraolnas dips her head, her antennae pressing forward in emphasis. "I have used alternative padds, workstations, and different rooms when taking voice notes. Additionally, this data loss is not just relevant to me. Anyone who makes a report concerning the Dark Matter project finds it vanishing."

Silas grits his teeth. "I want this traitor found. Starfleet Intelligence may want to enjoy a nice chat with them... provided they don't run into an airlock mishap before then."  

I hadn't considered the possibility that the sabotage could be coming from within the ship, Asovil refrains from showing her distress at the lack of critical thinking on her part and clasps her hands tighter in front of her on the table looking down at her whitening knuckles.

Silas continues, "Nyle, I wonder... your computer issue seems rather odd. As does the timing. You may want to coordinate with Engineering on this, and Lieutenant Tal feels that she has some resources that may be of use to you. I wonder if this might be related in any way to the vanishing report; I am not much of a believer in coincidences."

OOC: any responses, expositions, etc...

Drake sits back in his chair, "Very well. I have reviewed the refit and resupply reports, as well as the crew transfer orders. Is there anything else here that needs to be brought to my attention?"

OOC: speak now...

The Captain nodded.  "In that case, I won't take up any more of your time.  Dismissed."

Rising from her chair, Asovil directly approaches the new Ops Chief. "Let me know when you want to gain access to my quarters. I'll make myself available. 

(OOC: Nyle's reply...)

Stardate 2365.02.19
USS Peregrine, Captain’s Mess – 1550 hours

Eric had spent the remainder of the afternoon in Main Engineering, doing what starship engineers had done since the days of Charles “Trip” Tucker and the very first human-built starships; namely, tweaking anything that could be tweaked to improve the Peregrine’s performance. She had her legs stretched now, loping across space toward the Trevil system faster than light itself, streaking through the cosmos like the Valkyries of old, carrying these explorers and warriors to their destiny. Eric snorted a bit of laughter to himself as he idly read a phase variance readout; he did get a bit dramatic in his own head sometimes. But after an afternoon of adjustments and wrapping up a scant few jobs left unfinished at the time of their departure, Eric now headed toward the Captain’s Mess for the 1600 meeting, looking forward to reporting to the captain that Engineering was in tip-top condition and the Peregrine was ready to face the mission ahead.

He only hoped that the same could be said for her chief engineer, when the time came to stand and be tested. Bah. Hope be damned. He would be ready.

Eric reached the small meeting area and greeted those already on hand. He took a seat to the left of where the captain would be sitting and touched his PADD a few times to get it ready to record the meeting. The engineer in him always had to try to have a record to refer to when things got hectic. Yet another of his tendencies that Tochi loved to give him good-natured ribbing about at any opportunity.

Moments later, Commander Drake entered the Mess, took his seat, and the briefing began. Eric smiled warmly and thanked the captain when he welcomed Eric back, adding only “It’s a pleasure to be back, Sir. Thank you for not exploding, imploding, rupturing or otherwise traumatizing my office.” Eric remained attentive as Drake briefly acknowledged, and moved right along past, his legal troubles of the previous days, named the new Second, and moved on to the meat of the briefing. As Drake revealed Starfleet’s orders for the Peregrine to patrol Trevil, and the patrol route they’d be taking, Eric was already mentally scheduling Engineering drills and making lists of materials and resources that would need to be replicated, stockpiled and organized. Over the course of his career Eric had served on his fair share of patrol missions, and then some. During his time serving under Captain Picard aboard the Stargazer, later aboard the Crazy Horse, and even in his relatively brief stint on the Peregrine so far, Eric had seen simple patrol missions go sideways in so many ways, and he was determined that he would bring his ship and his crewmates back safely from whatever they were to face in the days ahead.

As the meeting drew toward a close, Eric raised an eyebrow when Tochi mentioned the computer troubles that Lieutenant Sh’iraolnas experienced, and when the Lieutenant added “Engineering cannot find how this is happening though they have valiantly tried. All that we know at this time is that any digital trace vanishes from our system including reports.” Eric made a mental note to touch base with whichever of his people had assisted thus far, do some preliminary research of his own and compare notes to see if he could add any insights. He also knew Drake well enough to see the anger that arose upon hearing of the entire security situation. Eric felt a pang of sympathy. After what the man had just gone through, this was just unnecessary headache, like throwing ancient gasoline on a flame. Drake gave his orders regarding what he wanted done, and when he discussed the possibility of swapping out equipment he then turned to Eric: "Eric, if it comes to that, I want you to personally oversee the new equipment." Eric nodded. “Absolutely, Sir. Any new modules and equipment will go through full quantum encryption, both hardware and software.”

Shortly afterward the briefing ended. As the assembled officers dispersed, Eric caught Tochi’s sleeve. “Well, my friend, sounds like we’re about to be busy again. And we still have a bit of catching up to do. I’m going to schedule an Engineering staff meeting for in the morning, then clean up and grab some dinner. What say we meet up tonight around 2100? We have mead to drink and cards to play. See you then?”

((OOC: Tochi’s response; hopefully affirmative, ye understand, or how else are we gonna have us some RP? Hehe. ))

Eric made his way back to Main Engineering to have a last look around for the day and to send out a notice to the Engineering staff that there would be an all-hands department meeting at 0800 the following morning. Then, smiling as he looked forward to spending time with his quirky Trill friend later, Eric headed back to his quarters, grabbed a quick shower, changed out of his uniform, and headed to the Mess Hall for some chow.

Stardate 2365.02.19

USS Peregrine, Deck 5, Holosuite 1 – 2115

Ensign Linda Blackmon approached her opponent warily, her hands held up in front of her in a guard position similar to a high guard of a boxer. Her opponent, a human male of apparent Asian descent; his long dark hair held behind him in a long braid halfway down his back. He was dressed much liker the Ensign, a pair of loose short, but where the woman wore a tight top, the man was bear chested. Both fighters wore no shoes, but their ankles, chins, wrists and hands were wrapped in wide cloth wrappings for added protection.

As Linda closed on her opponent, he attempted a sweep to the knee of her lead leg, but she nimbly danced back a half step to just allow the sweep to to miss. She quickly countered by stepping in and delivered a forward heel kick to the support leg of the man who stumbled and withdrew.

A smile on her face, Linda moved in to quickly take advantage of her opponent's misstep. The man danced around the ring; staying out of range while he attempted to regain his composure. The woman maintained her pursuit and when the man attempted another sweeping kick, this time to her midsection, she didn't retreat, but moved in and caught his kick upon her left hip, trapping it there with her left arm. She quickly leveled a elbow strike to the man's chin, which stunned him. Dropping his leg, she wrapped her both hands around the man's head and began a series of knee strikes to the man's gut. She hammered her knees into him over and over, and then released her right hand from his neck, and began to deliver repeated elbow strikes to the man's head. The man staggered on his feet, until the woman stopped and stepped back, and with a soft shove to his chest, she toppled him to his back where he lay motionless.

Linda Blackmon stepped back and breathed heavily for a few moments, then turned away from her opponent, and grabbed a towel from one of the ropes in the ring to wipe the sweat from her brow.

“Computer, end program.”

With a faint electronic sound, her opponent and the ring all disappeared to be replaced by the walls of the Holosuite.

“Computer, what was the difficulty setting of that program?” Linda asked as she finished wiping off the perspiration from her face and limbs.

=/\= Program was set for level seven =/\=

“Guess I'll have to try level 8 next time,” Ensign Blackmon said to herself as she left the Holosuite on her way to her quarters.

((OOC: I was bored so decided to play around a little. More to come a little later))

Stardate 2365.02.19
USS Peregrine, Deck 5, Phaser Range – 2218

After a trip to her quarters for a quick ultrasonic shower and a fresh uniform, Ensign Linda Blackmon stepped onto the Phaser range with her Type 1 phaser in her hand. Setting the weapon for level 12, she stepped to the center of the room.

“Computer,” she said as she reached a circle in the floor, “begin target program Blackmon 1, Level 25.”

A faint electronic sound chimed and then the holo-emitters in the room brought up several 'obstacles' around the room, which were used for cover during the exercise. Holographic opponents, in this case a mixture of Klingon, Romulan, and Cardassians, begin to appear and fire at her at they moved to cover.

Linda returned fire as she moved to her own nearby cover; she nailed one of the Cardassian attackers and they flashed out of existence to be replaced by another further back in the room. She moved and fired, using cover and timing her fire for when opponents exposed themselves to fire, she moved quickly through the program. Several disrupter blasts came close to her, but she managed to avoid them, though sometimes by the slimmest margin.

During the program, the computer would keep track of the number of times that she fired, and the times she hit her opponents, and missed. A program score would be calculated based on her shot performance and on her opponent's as well. A couple of minutes went by, with the number of attackers increasing until finally one Klingons managed to flank her position and a disrupter shot nailed her in the side.

=/\= Program terminated =/\=

Blackmon sighed as the program stopped and her attackers all disappeared, along with the obstacles around the room.

“Computer, what was the score?” Linda asked as she stood up from where she had been crouched behind cover.

=/\= Hit ratio was 88% =/\=

Blackmon swore slightly at the score; she could never seem to get to 90% or above on the maximum level. She shugged and set her phaser back to stun before replacing it on her belt.

“Computer, time?”

=/\= The time is now 2232 hrs =/\=

Enough time to grab a drink before reporting to the Bridge, she thought as she left the Phaser range. She swung by a replicator and ordered an energy drink that she had programmed into the database upon being assigned to the ship. She downed the drink quickly on her way to the Bridge for her Gamma shift at Command.

Stardate 2365.02.19
USS Peregrine, Main Bridge – 2240

Ensign Blackmon stepped on the Bridge, early as usual. She took in the bridge for a moment, before approaching the Command station.

“Lt Nyle,” She said as she stepped up next to him, “I'm here to relieve you.”

((OOC: Assume affirmative response))

“Anything interesting to report?” Linda asked hopefully, but the Gamma shift was usually the dead shift and hardly anything every really happened.

((OOC: Nyle's response, again assuming nothing out of the ordinary.))

“Very well Lt, I relieve you.” Ensign Blackmon stated for the record.

Taking her place at the Command station, she picked up a PADD and began to look over any official log entries of what happened during the last Alpha and Beta shifts. She noticed the others of the Gamma shift arriving and taking their places about the bridge.

((OOC: Ok, if any changes need to be made, I will backpost them later.))

Stardate 2365.02.19
USS Peregrine; Deck 3, Crew Quarters – 1321

"This is worse than the brig," Lauren complains to the ceiling. For the past few days since she was moved from incarceration to confinement, the ex-chief petty officer has exhausted all reasonable forms of entertainment. In quarter restriction includes barring holovids, having access to her work, and any other reasonable method of keeping oneself occupied. The small woman has already written all of the letters she can muster and now lies on her bed with a padd on her chest having grown bored with the paper she is reading on genetic remapping sequences (old news, but her penalty includes a lack of access to any literature or papers from within the last five years). 

/Door chime/

Startled, Lauren spins from her back to a seated position on the edge of her bed, narrowly avoiding striking her head on the upper bunk. "Um, come in."

Surprisingly, the visitor is Dana Cook. Lauren's insides relax and she sadly returns the blond woman's smile.

“Lauren,” Dana says with a smile, “It's good to see you. How are you doing?”

"Severely bored, Dana," Lauren says. Pushing up from the bed, she steps forward and moves in to embrace her friend and ex-roommate.

“I came to check on you and see how you are doing,” Dana says with a shrug, “I'm not sure if you're allowed visitors, but I'm here on 'official' business.” Her faint smile broadens as she lifts her medical tricorder from her belt. She figures that Lauren will understand that she will use that as an excuse as to why she is here, though she knows Dana well enough to know it is a personal visit.

"I'm not a religious person, Dana," Lauren sighs and pulls back. "But were I, I'd be blessing your heart from here to the Delta Quadrant and back again. How can we all be crammed into this small space and yet I still feel like I'm ten years out of step?

"So, what's the news? Tell me everything!"

Stardate 2365.02.19
USS Peregrine; Deck 3, Crew Quarters – 1321

"This is worse than the brig," Lauren complains to the ceiling. For the past few days since she was moved from incarceration to confinement, the ex-chief petty officer has exhausted all reasonable forms of entertainment. In quarter restriction includes barring holovids, having access to her work, and any other reasonable method of keeping oneself occupied. The small woman has already written all of the letters she can muster and now lies on her bed with a padd on her chest having grown bored with the paper she is reading on genetic remapping sequences (old news, but her penalty includes a lack of access to any literature or papers from within the last five years).

/Door chime/

Startled, Lauren spins from her back to a seated position on the edge of her bed, narrowly avoiding striking her head on the upper bunk. "Um, come in."

Surprisingly, the visitor is Dana Cook. Lauren's insides relax and she sadly returns the blond woman's smile.

“Lauren,” Dana says with a smile, “It's good to see you. How are you doing?”

"Severely bored, Dana," Lauren says. Pushing up from the bed, she steps forward and moves in to embrace her friend and ex-roommate.

“I came to check on you and see how you are doing,” Dana says with a shrug, “I'm not sure if you're allowed visitors, but I'm here on 'official' business.” Her faint smile broadens as she lifts her medical tricorder from her belt. She figures that Lauren will understand that she will use that as an excuse as to why she is here, though she knows Dana well enough to know it is a personal visit.

"I'm not a religious person, Dana," Lauren sighs and pulls back. "But were I, I'd be blessing your heart from here to the Delta Quadrant and back again. How can we all be crammed into this small space and yet I still feel like I'm ten years out of step?”

"So, what's the news? Tell me everything!"

Dana chuckled a little at her friend enthusiasm at having someone to talk to even for a little while. She flipped open the medical tricorder and gave a cursory pass over Lauren, seeing nothing out of the ordinary, maybe alittle borderline malnutrition; not unexpected in this situation. Snapping the tricorder closed, she slipped it back in the holder on her belt and plopped down in a chair across from her friend.

“Everything?” Dana shook her head with a smile, “I don't know if I have time for that. But, we have a new mission, the Captain is back aboard after facing a court martial after all that fiasco, there are a lot of new officers and personnel assigned to the ship. I bet you wouldn't even recognize your department. I've got some new medical personnel, including yet another New CMO. Didn't even get the last one broken in yet.” Dana laughed aloud and then got serious for a moment.

“So, how you doing Lauren?” Dana asked as she looked over her friend, “I see from the scan I took that you don't seem to be eating like you should.”

Cook was worried still about her friend, and she would miss sharing quarters with her. There were no other Chiefs yet assigned to her quarters, and that made it seem extra lonely when she was off duty. She tried not to spend a lot of time in there; she didn't like being alone.

Stardate 2365.02.19
USS Peregrine; Deck 3, Crew Quarters – 1321

“Everything?” Dana shakes her head while continuing to smile, “I don't know if I have time for that. But, we have a new mission, the Captain is back aboard after facing a court-martial after all that fiasco, there are a lot of new officers and personnel assigned to the ship. I bet you wouldn't even recognize your department. I've got some new medical personnel, including yet another New CMO. Didn't even get the last one broken in yet.” Dana laughed aloud and then got serious for a moment.

“So, how you doing Lauren?” Dana asks as she looks over her friend, “I see from the scan I took that you don't seem to be eating like you should.”

"Wait," PO Crane affects an alarmed expression. "What's happened in the Science Department?"

(OOC: Dana's answer...)

"That witch!" Lauren exclaims, clenching her fist. "She's stripping the department, destroying everything. I knew I didn't like her from the moment I met her. Miss-Asovil-Sh'iraolnas-I-Know-Everything is a... is a... Oh! I don't even know what to call her."

(OOC: Dana's answer...)

Sighing, Lauren returns to her bed and flops onto it. "I don't know what to do, Dana. Is there talk? I mean, am I kind of like the black sheep now? Maybe I should put in for a transfer; start over on a new ship."

Stardate 2365.02.19
USS Peregrine; Deck 3, Crew Quarters – 1321

"Wait," PO Crane affects an alarmed expression. "What's happened in the Science Department?"

“Well,” Dana replied, “I know Dalia is still there and Kelsie, I'm not sure about the others. And of course, Lt. Sh'iraolnas is still Department head.”

"That witch!" Lauren exclaims, clenching her fist. "She's stripping the department, destroying everything. I knew I didn't like her from the moment I met her. Miss-Asovil-Sh'iraolnas-I-Know-Everything is a... is a... Oh! I don't even know what to call her."

“Come on now,” Dana chuckled slightly, “I know you've had your problems with her, but there are worse officer's aboard to work for I think.”

Sighing, Lauren returns to her bed and flops onto it. "I don't know what to do, Dana. Is there talk? I mean, am I kind of like the black sheep now? Maybe I should put in for a transfer; start over on a new ship."

“Absolutely not!” Dana exclaimed firmly, “you've always been a strong person Lauren. You don't run away from your problems. No, there has been no 'talk'. Dalia, I know is anxious for you to return to duty. I'm sure even the Lt. would welcome you back on the job; the department is short handed right now without you. They need you! They need your experience! This whole mess is over, and once you get back to work, things will be back to normal.”

Stardate 2365.02.19
USS Peregrine; Deck 3, Crew Quarters – 1325

Sighing, Lauren returns to her bed and flops onto it. "I don't know what to do, Dana. Is there talk? I mean, am I kind of like the black sheep now? Maybe I should put in for a transfer; start over on a new ship."

“Absolutely not!” Dana exclaimed firmly, “you've always been a strong person Lauren. You don't run away from your problems. No, there has been no 'talk'. Dalia, I know is anxious for you to return to duty. I'm sure even the Lt. would welcome you back on the job; the department is short-handed right now without you. They need you! They need your experience! This whole mess is over, and once you get back to work, things will be back to normal.”

"I bet they are. That blue devil has cut the department's feet out from under it and now expects us to run a marathon." Sitting up, the geneticist presses deeper into the rough. "You said there are a lot of new officers aboard. Dish, sister. I'm less malnourished than starving for new information and ship gossip is always a full course meal."

Stardate 2365.02.20
USS Peregrine, turbolift - 2243

The lift paused for a moment at deck two to admit a slightly short, sandy haired human ensign that Enpok could not recall having met in the past.  This one must be the new transfer; perhaps Starfleet had overcompensated for the awkward bulk of the last new graduate he was replacing?

A ghost of a smirk rested on the Rigelian's features as a result of his own internal humor, though it would be difficult to detect to those unfamiliar with the blue and green whorls tattooed across the greenish-gray skin.  A Jelna Rigelian, T'Darin's oddly colored face was ridged in addition to the tattoos, and his gray hair hung past his shoulders in beaded braids.  While lean in build, T'Darin was noticeably taller than the newcomer, standing just above six feet in height. 

The gold-garbed tactical specialist bobbed his head and offered a crisp salute to the newcomer.  "I wish you a good evening, sir.  I am Petty Officer T'Darin, and I will man the Tactical station for this shift. I presume that you are Ensign Garner?"

OOC: assuming an affirmative

Enpok bobbed his head in acknowledgement.  "I am pleased to make your acquaintance, sir.  May fortune's winds blow favorably upon your first Command shift of the Peregrine."

OOC: any response

The lift opened to the bridge, and Enpok deferred to Garner before exiting.  He made his way to the Tactical station and presented himself to the curly-haired human woman who currently occupied the spot.  "Is there anything that I should be aware of, Petty Officer Wright?" he asked evenly.

Tabitha Wright shook her head, setting the strawberry blonde curls in motion.  "No, sir.  It has been a quiet evening.  The situation is nominal."

Enpok nodded.  "Very good, then.  I relieve you, Mister Wright." 

The human woman gave way, allowing the Rigelian to slide behind the console, where he began checking the various readouts and such for himself. 

 

((Collab with Altaira))

Stardate 2365.02.20
USS Peregrine; Deck 4 - CMO's Office, 1030

Melody leans back in her chair, rubbing her sore shoulder. Even on her day off she finds it difficult to occupy her mind with anything more than work. She hates the way her mind wanders and finds any way to get it to go in a direction she can manage. She had already spent time in the holodeck though, competing with fencing warriors from across the galaxy. Now the only thing on her mind was this: Chief Dana Cook's files lay before her. Her medical records, her service record, but also and perhaps most interestingly, Dr. Synklar's private files on her.

She taps her comm-badge, "Reine to Chief Cook."

=/\= Cook here, Doctor =/\=

"Apologies for disturbing you on your day off, Chief, but I would like to speak with you regarding your medical record. Please finish up whatever I may have interrupted and make your way to my office at your earliest convenience. I would like to see you within the hour."

There was a hesitation of a few seconds before a reply from Cook. =/\= Aye Doctor. I'll be there within 10 mins.=/\=

"Excellent, I will see you then. Reine out." She leaned forward again, skimming once more the files that had occupied much of her time--at least, the time that wasn't spent researching Betazoid mutations, cybernetic prostheses, writing up courses to ensure her team was up-to-date with the inner-workings of each of the races represented on the Peregrine, or anything of the sort. No, she had been observing the Chief since she had read Synklar's private CMO files three days ago, when she had first boarded the ship.

Cook was young, she was strong, commanding. That she would contract such a thing as Irumodic Syndrome was improbable, but not impossible, and that was one of the more devastating things about it. There was no cure for this thing, it just ate away at your neural system until you expired. In the meantime it could affect your behavior and your decision-making, it could make you delusional and irrational.

There hadn't been much reported in the doctor's file since her first few entries after her diagnosis, and nothing from the CMO who followed her. Thus far, Melody hadn't seen anything in Cook's behavior warrenting attention, however it had only been three days. This meeting would be to get Cook's firsthand account of how she has been affected and how she could be supported, as well as to let her know exactly where Melody stood on the issue.

Stardate 2365.02.20
USS Peregrine; Deck 3 – Chief Cook's quarters, 1030

=/\= Excellent, I will see you then. Reine out. =/\=

Cook sighed and slowly sat down as the weigh of what this meant; Dr. Reine had obvious found some reference to her condition in Dr. Synklar's private records. She had dreaded this since Dr. Synklar had left the ship. The last CMO, Dr. Moore, was only here a short time and had apparently not delved that deeply into the records, so Dana's condition had not been exposed. But, the new Doctor had apparently found something in the files, if she was wanted to talk to her regarding her medical record.

Taking a deep breath, Cook stood up, unconsciously straightening her uniform as she steeled herself for the conversation that she wasn't going to be able to avoid. She headed out the door of her quarters and towards the CMO's office.

Stardate 2365.02.20 
USS Peregrine; Deck 4 - CMO's Office, 1038

Dana paused outside the door to the office, where she took another deep breath before entering. She stood before the desk which the Doctor was sitting behind.

“Yes Doctor?” Dana asked as if she didn't know what this was all about. She was going to let the Doctor expose her condition, if that was the situation. She wasn't stupid enough to open her mouth and assume she knew; that is often how people exposed themselves when they assumed someone knew something when they didn't.

"Please," Reine said, gesturing to one of the chairs across from her, "have a seat."

Dana made no verbal response, but she nodded and sat down with a grim expression on her face.

"Very well." She leans forward, "I'll be blunt with you, I have read through Dr. Synklar's files and have found her diagnosing you with Irumodic Syndrome. First, I am sorry this has happened to you and will work to support you the best way I can. That being said, I am disappointed that with something like this, you chose not to tell me yourself. That isn't to say that I don't understand why you decided to keep it a secret from me, but I am your CMO and you are my Head Nurse. I expect more transparency and trust in the future, is that clear?"

Again Dana said nothing, though her expression hardened slightly, before she nodded once.

"Now," she says, softer but still direct, "to the main reason I asked you down here. Tell me about your condition. I know what it is and what it does, but tell me about your experience with it. Specifically, I would like to know from your experice how the symptoms began to manifest, when Synklar noticed the symptoms, and how they have progressed since your first being affected by them. I would also like to know how the peridaxon has been helping you, and if it is having the same effect against your symptoms now as it did six months ago." Reine leans back in her chair, her eyes never leaving the Chief, as she awaits her response.

"Doctor," Dana began, then stopped and swallowed visibly before continuing, "It began with me having issues with my memory, and incidents of confusion where I wouldn't remember what I was doing or why. Then there were some moments where I 'imagined' things happening that didn't. Finally I began to experience some shaking of my hands which were uncontrollable. It was at that point when I approached Dr. Synklar and she diagnosed me after a series of tests and consultations with Star Fleet Medical."

It was obvious from the clipped tone of the Chief that she was not comfortable talking about it to her, despite her being the CMO. Cook's posture was very rigid as she spoke; her expression showing signs of trepidation.

"The Doctor did a lot of research, during which she agreed to keep my condition just between us as long as it didn't interfere with my work. Eventually, she told me what it was and that it was incurable, but that some studies did show that Peridaxon had some success in alleviating the symptons and slowing the progress of the disease. It did help, a lot, and she authorized me to self administer the drug under her supervision. Since I started the treatment, I have had no delusional incidents, less confusion and the neurological symptoms have been few. I believe the treatment is working."

Dana paused for a moment, and once again visibly swallowed; her fears at telling the new CMO and what the new Doctor might do about it.

"Doctor," Cook continued, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you first. May I speak freely?"

Reine nods her confirmation.

"You are new here, only a few days. You speak of trust we should have, but we're talking about my career here. I don't know you Doctor, and I don't know if I can trust you. But now I don't have a choice since you now know the situation. So I have to put my life, my career, in your hands."

"Chief Cook, I understand your concern for your career, but mine is with this crew. That includes you. While I can see the reasoning behind your concerns, I hope that you can see the validation in mine and understand where I'm coming from. The symptoms of Irumodic Sydrome aren't just a cough and a sore throat. They have the potential to cause harm to yourself and to others aboard the Peregrine." She paused a moment, studying the frustration in her head nurse. It was wasn't fair, she knew, but things like this never were. And regardless of the fairness of the disease or the current results of her treatment, that didn't negate what could and would happen over time.

"Despite how I'm sure I'm coming off, I am relieved that the peridaxon seems to be having a positive effect on you. I don't see any need at this time to bring this to light and will keep it in my private files for now. You are due a physical exam though. I'll see to that myself as well," she holds up a finger, "My only stipulation, is that you keep me up-to-date on how your treatments are going, if the peridaxon continues to have the same effects, and if anything at all changes regarding your condition. Are you able to do that?"

“Doctor,” Dana started then paused and seemed to reassess her words before continuing, “as I said, we don't really know each other, but I will tell you this right now so that you will understand me. I would never let my condition jeopardize the crew or anyone. If I perceived a possible threat that my symptoms would be hazardous to others, I would gladly come forth and expose my illness and relieve myself from duty.”

Reine was grateful for that, however despite her talk of trust, there still lingered that cautious modicum of doubt in the back of her mind. She had no doubt in the Chief's abilities or determination, but a patient's well-being could often fool even themselves.

“Now as to your stipulations,” she goes on, “I agree with them and I will keep you updated at a minimum of weekly, or immediately if there are any sudden changes. I would appreciate you conducting my physical, for the record. I appreciate you willing to keep this between us for now, and I promise that I won't betray your trust. I do hope that we can both learn more about each other, and we can grow to completely trust each other.”

All of the tension that was evident earlier in their conversation has all but disappeared; Chief Cook's demeanor is now one of relief that they can move forward and work together without any unpleasant awkwardness.

"I feel the same way," Reine gives her a small smile as she walks around the desk, meeting the Chief as she herself rises from her seat, "Trust takes time, I know, but on a small ship in the middle of nowhere, it's a luxury we can't afford to squander. I hope I didn't cause too much contention with my frankness, I just thought you might appreciate that to any sugar-coating." She walks with her to the door of her office, "Thank you for your time, Chief, I'll see you soon."

Stardate 2365.02.19
USS Peregrine; Deck 3, Crew Quarters – 1325

Sitting up, the geneticist presses deeper into the rough. "You said there are a lot of new officers aboard. Dish, sister. I'm less malnourished than starving for new information and ship gossip is always a full course meal."

Dana chuckles and shakes her head and leans forward towards her friend as if she is going to whisper some juicy tidbit of information.

“Well, let's see,” she pauses to think, “there is a new Ops Chief, a Lt Nyle, who is a Daa'vit. Green skin and wolfish features, I hear. I am looking forward to meeting him as I've never met a Daa'vit.”

“Tactical has a new Chief Officer,” Dana continued, “I hear she's quite well trained in several forms of Maritial Arts, though from the record I read, she doesn't apparently practice Boxing.” Cook grinned at her friend, knowing how she is always looking for a new challenge when it comes to the Boxing ring, or Poker.

“I mentioned the new CMO,” she said with a look of contemplation, “so far she seems to be alright. She appears to approve of my 'strong hand' in Medical.” She grinning, thinking her friend would get a kick out of that, as she knew how Cook handled her staff.

“I got a couple of new Lab techs,” Dana shrugged, “so I haven't seen how they work out yet, though I'm glad my nursing staff isnt changing. As for the New Mission, I don't know much, there hasn't been an official announcement yet. Just that I heard we had set course for the Trevil system. There is a senior staff meeting scheduled for 1600 hrs, so maybe I will hear more then. Other than that, not much to tell just yet.”

((OOC: Lauren's responses can be inserted where you wish.))

“So how much time is left on your confinement to quarters?” Dana finally asked, “I know you probably want to get back to work, but knowing you, you probably dread it just as much.”

She eyed her friend looking for signs of how she was doing mentally; the tricorder couldn't help her there.

((OOC: Lauren's response))

“Well,” Dana replied, “I'm no counselor, but I'm always here to listen to you and offer advice. You know that.” It was a statement and not a question.