"I'm sorry, you hope I'm not angry? That you've suckered me? Made me to look a fool before the Captian? Oh no, you furry bastard. Not angry in the slightest...only...."

Taking the PADD, brow raised in consideration as she perused it's screen, her head snapped at the mention of the meeting.

"Mind that you remember yourself, Sir she whispered, her mouth mainaining a sharply tight smile that did not extend to her eyes. "I'd hate for us to have a misunderstanding at so soon a juncture in our relationship. That was a vile trick, and lest you'd prefer to pilot this deathtrap yourself, you should retract those little tiny claws."

And suddenly she seemed to realize that the Lyran's dirty trick was the least of her concerns. Understanding seemed to dawn over her, and one could see the painful progression of it pass on her face - the col, controlled facade crumbling, the fire of the concept, and the comprehension of what it meant, how close to the surface it brought her painful past.

"I'm to fly us all through Dominion space, am I..."
She paused, looking at him, head cocked.

And her tone dropped, lost it's tight coldness, an suddenly it was as if Cathica Mas'Riat were remarking on the weather.

"You realize, of course, that we're all going to die."

Stardate: 2374.09.01
USS Charon – Outside Captain’s Ready Room – 1835 hours
"I'm sorry, you hope I'm not angry? That you've suckered me? Made me to look a fool before the Captian? Oh no, you furry bastard. Not angry in the slightest...only...."
Talon grinned and taking a step forward till he was towering over her glaring down into her eyes, “That is Lt. Cmdr Bastard to you Lt,” he said threateningly, “Don’t forget your rank here. Personally I don’t care if you like me or not, or if you take offense at the way I chose to welcome you aboard, but what I have done to you here is trivial and if you cant take it… get out now.. I don’t need some over sensitive wet behind the ears officer who takes offense at every little thing and then cant perform her duty. Do I make myself clear, Lt?” His tone had lost all it’s humor and now she could see he was dead serious.

"I'm to fly us all through Dominion space, am I..." She paused, looking at him, head cocked.
Talon took a step back from her to give her some room and snorted derisively, “Yes! You wouldn’t be my first choice either, but someone thinks you have some special knowledge of the situation so I imagine you have been there before and know your way around.”

"You realize, of course, that we're all going to die."
“Everyone dies,” the Lyran stated in a matter-of-fact tone, “but some are lucky enough to chose the time of their dying and make it worth something. If you want to be afraid of something let it be failure, because if you fail to do your job and cause the failure of this mission then you should pray for death otherwise I will make your life a living hell.”

“Am I rightly understood LT?” Talon’s tone again all business and formal demanding that his rank and orders be respected or pay the consequences.

While the Lyrans fury boiled at the edges, Cathica Mas'Riat made the wise decision not to laugh. The entire situation had suddenly become inordinately amusing to her, and while she understood it would be iwildly inappropriate to offer so much as a giggle, she maintained a blank, unaffected visage and waited for the giant hairball to stop talking.

"My sincerest appoligies, Sir, " she offered, digging her nails into her skin to keep from smirking. "While I do, of course defer to your impressive title and stature, I should try harder to remember my place."

She remained uncannily still, as if rooted to the spot, still watching him with eerie calm.

"You're right. We all have to die some time. And it doesn't matter if I like you in spite of your shedding or because you're quite possibly as frightening to me as The Founders. But you haven't the faintest idea what I can do, and if I was brought here to fly us through the biggest, toothiest hotspot out there then let me tell you, with all due respect, Sir that it's because I can. And do it damn well, at that."

She dropped her head, slightly, low enough to convey respectful submission, but not enough that she wouldn't see him move. She waited for him to rip into her, verbally or otherwise, because it seemed to please him so.

Her concept of reality had painfully and ironiccaly shifted. Everything she had run from, everything she was still running from, was about to open its waiting, anxious jaws and swallow her whole. It almost made the things she had done to survive seem unimportant and for naught, and when she breathed, she coudl feel only the cold damp air of the prison cell.

They were all going to die.

It was one thing, she felt, to have escaped with Gani, poor broken Gani. After all, the craft she'd stolen was a slip of nothing, a metal filing against the vast resources of the Dominion, a slip of a nothing. It was inconsequential compared to this. This was monumental, this was enormous, and the rality of it chilled her from the inside out. Snarky comments and catty behaviour aside, failure to fly this wreck safely meant lives lost, lives lost because of her.

If only she felt the cowardice Talon insinuated. If only she felt the urge to flee sreaming into the night. No, she was not afraid. Not anymore, After all, she had survived. No, what she felt, if she dared look deep enough inside, was a consuming, smouldering rage that possessed all of her heart, all of her soul, and suspended all rational thoughts, such as fear of sharp claws or the necessity to behave.

For Cathica Mas'Riat, the painful past she had been escaping, in hopes of escaping the blackness inside, was going to eat her alive.

Stardate: 2374.09.01
USS Charon – Small Briefing Room – 1835 hours
"My sincerest appoligies, Sir, " she offered, digging her nails into her skin to keep from smirking. "While I do, of course defer to your impressive title and stature, I should try harder to remember my place."

"You're right. We all have to die some time. And it doesn't matter if I like you in spite of your shedding or because you're quite possibly as frightening to me as The Founders. But you haven't the faintest idea what I can do, and if I was brought here to fly us through the biggest, toothiest hotspot out there then let me tell you, with all due respect, Sir that it's because I can. And do it damn well, at that." She dropped her head, slightly, low enough to convey respectful submission.
Talon remained looming over her for a few seconds then nodded and snorted slightly and then surprised her by not ‘laying into her’ but he took a step backwards, “Very well LT,” he said in a softer tone of voice, “I’ll take your word for it. Just do your best and that is all anyone can ask.”

The sudden turn of his demeanor may have surprised her and if she thought on it she might come to the conclusion that it was just another test of his to see if she would crack under the pressure of combat. He was the ship’s Tactical Officer and therefore he probably used tactics like this to read his subordinates and determine their true mettle.

“Lets go work on our assignments for the briefing tomorrow,” He grinned slightly, “Our captain is an impatient man… it doesn’t do to make him angry..er.”

He would lead her to one of the empty briefing rooms and give her access to information she would need. Available charts through Dominion space, intel the Charon’s last mission there, and offer his input on what had happened before and how they had managed to escape and return, barely.

As he helped her work on her plans for their course, he would work on his own computer terminal checking up on security measure to handle the Romulans that would be coming aboard once they rendezvoused with the Cerberus.

He checked his recent intel on any known movements of the Dominion, he accessed reports for the ships repairs and status and was pleased to find that it looked like all major systems would be operational before the Cerberus arrived. Only a few minor systems that could be easily repaired in flight would remain; at least this was good news.

He notified his security forces of his plans for dealing with ship’s security would be during this mission and that they could expect to many long hours keeping a watchful eye on their ‘guests’.

After several hours, he finished compiling his report for the briefing tomorrow and transferred it to his PADD; standing he stretched very reminiscent of a house cat then turned to Lt Mas’Riat.

“If you are done,” Talon said straightening his uniform, “I will show you to your quarters so that you may rest.”

He would lead her out of the small briefing room and to the turbolift, directing it to Deck 2. Once there he showed her to a room and punching in a command code on the door access panel he opened the door for her.

“This room has been assigned to you,” he explained, “the door will now respond to your presence. If you need anything the computer in your room can direct you to wherever you need to go.” He turned to leave then after a few steps he stopped and turned to look at her.

“Good night, Lt,” Talon said with a slight grin, “and don’t be late for the briefing.” He turned back up the hall and she heard him chuckle slightly just before he went around the corner.

Stardate: 2374.09.01
USS Charon – Deck 2 - Outside Lt Mas'Riat's Quarters – 2250 hours

Stardate: 2374.08.31
USS Cerberus – Deck 3 Centurion's Cabin – 1730 hours

Sienar went to the desk with its communications panel.. She did not care who she got, since one one had brought the needed comlinks or watches.

"The is the Romulan Commanding Officer Centurion Siena, would you please direct my request to the proper departments. I will need 3 time slots on the holo deck to run simulations for the installation of the Cloaking Device. I wish conformation of such within the hour, though within minutes would be better, as I have a briefing with my team starting in 30 minutes.

She flips off the com just as someone indicated that heard ther message. Sienae moves with easy choreagraphed movement meant to keep her from tweeking her back again.

Her crew knewn the time to assembly, so for now she checked the status of the doctor who was to be coming on board. So far the computer indicated that he had not checked in. She could have gone to the Holo doctor, but thought it better to see the flesh and blood doctor. She fingers the electronic file of her medical data, which was not forwarded with her records. The Captain might have refused her boarding and she did not want to risk that

She went to the table where they would sit and take up a seat that allowed her to look out of the large window into the eternal night of space.

Stardate: 2374.09.01
USS Charon – Small Briefing Room – 1855 hours

Mas'Riat stood in the center of the room, as she had been since Talon had showed her to her door. Her eyes bore holes into the face of her PADD, at the mission paramets outlined for her. With monumental will, she moved her feet, one after another, to the computer.

"Computer," she commanded, her voice hollow and cold, "please confirm my attendance at tomorrow's briefing. Also..." her voice trailed as she continued to stare a the PADD. Memory assailed her, thought spun in a dizzying torrent. Closing her eyes, taking a deep breath, she found her center and everything stopped. The mad rush of thought and emotion swelling up within her vanished. She was, as she had once been, devoid of all but her objective. Survive.

"...Also, I need a map of all charted territory on the other side of the wormhole. Show me all reported Domion sightings and disturbances within the past six months. Show me all recorded naturally occurring recurrent atmospheric conditions, as well as any documented asteroid activity."

Her display brightened, revealing the information requested, and for long moments she stared into the screen, losing herself in the data.

"Computer," she murmured, tracing possible routes with her fingertips. "I'd like to save this file and run it as a flightsim. Run it with a skeleton bridge crew and have it ready for me, provided there's a free deck."

Mas'Riat tapped her commbadge. "Lt. Cmdr Talon, if you are not busy, I have an experiment I'd like your help with."

Stardate: 2374.09.01
USS Charon – Deck 5 – CTO’s Office/Quarters – 2330 hours
After leaving Lt Mas’Riat to her quarters to finalize her plans for the briefing tomorrow morning, Lt. Cmdr Talon had returned to his office/quarters to check the status of his officer’s reports on their assignments. There wasn’t much new intel on the Dominion movements beyond the wormhole, but what he did have he sent to Mas’Riat’s computer so she could have the latest intelligence.

After that he reviewed the reports on the repairs of ships tactical systems: the Type X Phaser arrays were operational once again, both Mark XXV Photon Torpedo launchers were operational and torpedo bays were filled with 45 torpedos, the subspace graviton field (Deflector) shield generators were operational and running at 99.99% efficiency.

The Lyran nodded his head and added this information to his brief for the morning meeting. He then sent a ‘well done’ message to his officers letting them know he was pleased. He had learned that the humans responded positively to praise even when they were only doing their job. He didn’t understand the need for this positive reinforcement but he had seen it work so he did it only to keep his men happy and feeling useful.

Finishing his report and transferring it to his Personal PADD, he stood and decided to take a sonic shower before retiring for the night. Stripping out of his uniform and tossing the dirty one in the cleaning chute, he took a quick shower and then had just slipped into some undergarments when his commbadge beeped.

. "Lt. Cmdr Talon, if you are not busy, I have an experiment I'd like your help with."
He growled slightly, having thought he was done with that woman for the night. Tapping his badge to open a direct channel he replied:

“Do you know what time it is, Lt?” he growled at her showing his displeasure at the interruption.

Stardate: 2374.09.01
USS Charon – Deck 5 – Mas'Riat's Quarters – 2330 hours

The time...

Mas'Riat had not even considered it, as caught up in her work as she had been.

"I'm sorry, Sir. I just... Never mind. Good night, Sir."

((assuming that's all there is of that))

Checking once more with the computer to assure that there was a holosuite availible, she made her way there and began the program. Hours passed as she ran the program over and over, encounting different scenarios each time, until she had satisfied herself with a selected course. she ordered the computer to save each simulation, so that she could call upon her results if asked to, and made her way back to her cabin. Neglecting a shower for a quick nap, she programmed herself a wakeup call and fell into bed, into dreams of tormented memory that faded soon after waking.

Stardate: 2374.09.01 USS Cerberus – Sick Bay – 1410 hours
Using the forefinger and thumb of his right hand to rub his eyes, Jon settled back in his chair and sighed. Bloody reports. Bloody medical histories. With transporters removing ailments and medical science having made advances with a speed the likes of which human history has never before been able to match, he was finding medicine a repetitive practice. Discovery had become a thing fewer and farther between with as many science vessels combing the universes, even during a war. Databases were being shared, and information about alien races was rampant. Medical conferences were handled via holodeck communication just as often as in person, and information was available at the touch of a button, but still, the medical officer on board a starship had to prepare for that which was not recorded.

“Ensign Tort!” Jon barked, still rubbing his eyes.

“Sir?” Madeline popped in quicker than he thought possible.

“Spunky, aren’t you?” Hash sighed and peered up at her. “Have you heard back from the captain yet?”

“Um, no sir?”

“Is that a question? I mean, seriously, Sparky Tort. Are you really seeking my approval on a simple answer to a simple question? Good lord! Did he, or did he not, respond to my request for an appointment?”

“No sir.” Esign Tort’s face had washed white and she held a PADD in front of her chest like a shield.

“You’re sure now? I mean, don’t you want to ask your kindergartener colleague in there to make sure?” Hash waved a hand towards the sick bay where Braff studiously kept his gaze from drifting towards his ranting superior while Tort’s lips tightened and her eyes widened. “Oh, forget it! I’ll take your word for it. After all, you, at least, appear to be old enough babysit.”

Rising abruptly from his seat, the lieutenant brushed past his subordinate and stormed into the hall. Mumbling under his breath the whole way, Jon Hash made his way to the turbolift.

“Computer,” Jon leaned back against the turbolift wall and folded his arms. “Location of the captain?”

As the computer relayed the location the turbolift stalled on another floor, its doors sliding open to admit an orange shirt.

“Sir,” the man said with a nod as he stepped to Jon’s side. Hash’s expression was less than welcoming. Ignoring the man, the ship’s doctor ordered the turbolift to proceed to the floor the captain was on.

“Business with the captain, sir?” the crewman asked, again attempting to start conversation.

Jon glanced at him out of the corner of his eye seeing a slightly overweight engineer.

“Does it concern you? No. Didn’t think so.”

“I was just—“

“Just what? Butting in where you weren’t invited?” Jon stepped up towards the door putting the engineer at his back. “The nerve of some people.”

Behind him, Jon was unaware of the studious stare he was receiving, the thoughtful expression on the engineer’s face, and the hands that held the small vial of death. But before the assassin could act, the lift stopped on another floor, admitting another orangeshirt, this time a security officer. Eventually, the lift stopped on the floor Jon wanted, and as he stepped off, two more personnel stepped on. Without even another look back at the engineer who had so rudely tried to impose himself upon him, Jon strode towards the captain’s location.

“MacTavish?” Jon’s gravel-filled voice filled the room. “Time for your check-up. Now, the way I see it, we can do this out here in front of everyone, or we can retire to a more private chamber…sir.”

Stardate: 2374.09.01
USS Charon – Deck 5 – CTO’s Office/Quarters – 2330 hours
"I'm sorry, Sir. I just... Never mind. Good night, Sir."
“Get some sleep LT” he snapped and then ended the transmission before she could say anything else.

Shaking his head he hoped this first day dealing with the Bajoran Lt wasn’t going to be a sign of things to come. Any other time he wouldn’t have objected to assisting her in some scenarios about their course and/or tactical procedures but he was tired and he didn’t want his fatigue to be an excuse for errors. It was best to be sharp and alert when dealing with choices that would potentially deal with the Charon’s survival.

After doing a final check of the security board and seeing all was green, he draped his equipment belt, holding his blaster, over the end of the bed and then turned in for the night.

(OOC: A minor correction there LT… your quarters are on Deck 2.. hope you don’t get lost on the way to the briefing. )

Stardate: 2374.09.02
USS Charon – Captain’s Ready Room – 0955 hours
Lt. Cmdr Talon made his way to the Captain’s Ready Room, his yellow catlike eyes scanning his personal PADD going over the details of his report for the Captain. He had arisen a couple of hours ago and forgoing any breakfast he called up the latest Intel on his computer. He had not been happy to see that there had been nothing new since last night. But then if there had been anything he would have had to send it to Lt Mas’Riat so she could update her report and while that late information may have ticked her off and delighted him somewhat anything new at this late hour would have been unexpected.

Arriving at the Captain’s Ready Room he buzzed the door comm and announced himself, once permission had been given he would enter and salute.

“Good Morning Captain!” He addressed his superior with a tone of respect. He immediately went to his usual oversized chair and sat down. He noted the time on his PADD display and the fact that Lt Mas’Riat was not yet present and he stifled a grin and only continued to organize his report for the Captain.

(Room for interaction with Captain or others)

When he was called to report he tapped his PADD to transfer his report to the main briefing screen and turned his chair slightly and began to speak of his findings.

“First off Captain,” Talon started, “we received very little further intel on the Dominion movements but what I did get I forwarded to Lt. Mas’Riat to help in her evaluation of potential routes into the system. I also sent her my recommendations on the matter but I left the main planning of this area to her and her ‘unique’ expertise.” The last held a hint of sarcasm about why she was assigned to this ship and this mission.

“Ships’ security is tighter than ever,” he said moving on to the next subject, “ and all Tactical system repairs have been completed. The Type X Phaser arrays are fully operational, both Mark XXV Photon Torpedo launchers are operational and the torpedo bays are filled with 45 torpedos, and Deflector shields are operational and running at 99.99% efficiency. I am working on getting that up to 100% before the end of the day.”

“As for the Romulans,” he set his PADD down and ended the data that had been streaming to the main display, “they will be under constant surveillance by either me or one of my men. They will be allowed only in areas they need access to do their job and each one of those will have to be cleared by either you or me. They will not be allowed anything resembling a weapon, and they will be subjected to a full body scan and I would like them to receive a full physical and medical scan as well to make sure they are carrying no concealed weapons or viruses. They only place they will be allowed even the smallest amount of private will be the quarters where they will be housed and then a guard will be stationed outside the door at all times.”

Talon paused to look at the Captain, his countenance showing no hint of humor now as he concluded, “If I had it my way, I would rather beam them out into open space where they would do the most good.”

He feel silent awaiting any further questions by the Captain or any other staff present.

Stardate: 2374.09.02
USS Charon – Captain’s Ready Room – 0956 hours

Mas'Riat buzzed for permission to enter and, when granted, slipped in quietly as Talon gave his report, her hand clutching her PADD. During the course of her excersizes in the holosuite, she had developed what she believed to be the quicket, most direct route though Dominion space. Taking a seat, she sat straigh, her hands in her lap, unseen, hiding the slight tremor of her nerves.

And yet her will was steeled, and she prepared in her mind a litany of objections that might be raised, crafting responses that would point out the benefits of her path, while deflecting attention from how she came across some of the information used.

She met the eyes of each member seated, a small polite smile on her lips.

This was going to be interesting...

When called upon, Mas'Riat would begin by calling upon a 3D display of her projected flight path, noting potentially dangerous atmospheric conditions as well as probable interaction with enemy forces.

"Given the information availible, I supplemented our flight path with my direct knoweledge of some of the area involved and have come up with the most direct route with limited probable interference from Dominion forces."

Having never done this before, she did not know what else to say. THis was all she was good at, when it came down to it. Running. It was what she did best.

Stardate: 2374.09.02
USS Charon, Captain's Ready Room - 0950 hours

Kato yawned.

He was not what one would call a 'morning person', no matter which solar system he was in. However, this would be his first meeting as Chief Science Officer aboard the USS Charon, and he was determined to make a good impression on the Captain. This was a brand new assignment; he knew so little about this mission, and having seen so little action in the Dominion War so far, he was surprised to be assigned to such a war ship. However, these were trying times, and however green he might have been in Starfleet, he was noted for his efficiency and extensive skills as an officer.

As he walked, he sometimes drew strange looks from the crew, to whom he was a new face. His orange sash and insignia patch were certainly not part of standard Starfleet dress, and his native planet was not well-traveled. However, as part of the officer exchange program, these additions were not only allowed, but encouraged, in order to foster understanding between members of Starfleet and non-member species and governments. But his warm demeanor won over most anyone very quickly - he had been told he looked like a young St. Nick by one of his colleagues on his last assignment, only to puzzlingly ask who "St. Nick" was...

The man of about six feet buzzed the door comm, waiting for a response. Then, first glancing to make sure no one was looking, he pinched the tips of his mustache, curling up the ends. He then adjusted his sash and cleared his throat. Shortly thereafter, once permission was granted, he would enter and salute.

"Good morning, sir," he addressed Captain Gavison.

"I thought I'd arrive just a few minutes early, sir," he began. "Lt. Commander Kato 3, son of Marik 6, House of Voth, Chief Science Officer assigned to the USS Charon as part of the officer exchange program, reporting for duty sir. I think Starfleet Command rushed my application through for a second year of service in Starfleet; with the war, as many officers are needed as possible. As such, I apologize for not arriving sooner, but I only received word of approval a few weeks ago and the shuttle from Eminiar 7 only just arrived at Deep Space 9. We got here as soon as we could."

After listening to the Captain's response, Kato bowed his head slightly in response, then took a seat, waiting for the others.

As the Lyran walked in, Kato barely veiled his surprise. He had spent a year in Starfleet as part of the exchange program, but he still wasn't used to the diversity of it. Of course, that was also what he liked about Starfleet.

After the Lyran took his seat, Kato nodded towards his fellow Lt. Cmdr.

"I'm Lt. Cmdr Kato 3," he stated. "Nice to meet you."

After the Lyran's response, he explained his assignment there.

"I was assigned here as part of the officer exchange program with Eminiar 7. Most of my experience is with the Eminian Spacefleet, but I'm quickly adapting to Starfleet."

Judging the Lyran's reaction, he assumed that the Lt. Cmdr known as Talon might be wondering about a few things, which he proceeded to answer.

"If you're wondering about my name, the number indicates which child of the generation I am. You may simply call me Kato. And yes, we Eminians are virtually human in physical appearance, only our internal arrangement is different."

"In any case, it's nice to meet you, Lt. Cmdr...?"

After watching the presentations of both Talon and Lt. Mas'Riat, Kato soon realized that it was his turn, and he tapped his PADD, calling up a display on the screen of his presentation.

"Well, ladies and gentlemen," he began, "I've been on a shuttle from Eminiar 7 for the past few weeks, and due to the nature of our mission, much of my work will be in coordination with tactical. However, I have called up all the available information about planets and lifeforms in the regions of space we'll be flying through."

He quickly flipped through a variety of documents showing the traits of planets and planetoids they would be coming into the vicinity of, as well as lists of M-class planets that they could survive on if the ship went down, etc. Additionally, there were a few slides on diseases, viruses and hostile lifeforms that they might run into while planetside - the kinds of biological threats that were native to or common to the Gamma Quadrant.

"As you can see," he concluded. "I've very little to go on. The Federation doesn't exactly have a wealth of information about Dominion space, for obvious reasons. For a more comprehensive report, I'll have to coordinate with tactical."

He sat down. It wasn't much, but it was the best he could provide. He just hoped it would be good enough, and that he would be good enough for this mission. Starfleet had chosen him, an Eminian, for a dangerous mission requiring great skill. He was humbled, as always.

Stardate: 2374.09.02
USS Charon – Captain’s Ready Room – 0955 hours
(Back posting to Lt Cmdr Kato and Lt Mas’Riat)

"I'm Lt. Cmdr Kato 3," he stated. "Nice to meet you."

"I was assigned here as part of the officer exchange program with Eminiar 7. Most of my experience is with the Eminian Spacefleet, but I'm quickly adapting to Starfleet."

"If you're wondering about my name, the number indicates which child of the generation I am. You may simply call me Kato. And yes, we Eminians are virtually human in physical appearance, only our internal arrangement is different."

"In any case, it's nice to meet you, Lt. Cmdr...?"
As the Eminian spoke the Lyran looked over this new officer and his yellow cat eyes took in everything. When the man was done speaking, something he appeared to like to do, Talon growled slightly and leaned forward looking even more closely at the man giving the impression of a cat examining a fish in a bowl.

“Lt Cmdr Talon,” he said in response to the Eminian’s question, “Chief Security and Tactical Officer… I am sure we will become well acquainted soon.” His tone was slightly amused and he sat back again and went back to looking at his PADD until it was his turn to give his report.


During his presentation he looked up as the door opened and his eyes narrowed and he paused for a second as Lt. Mas’Riat came in late. He smirked slightly and then turned back to his briefing for the Captain. He didn’t say anything about her arrival, he wouldn’t need to as if the Captain was upset at her he would no doubt speak his mind.

(OOC: Sorry, it seemed that your post indicated you came in after Talon began so therefore the little blurb about her lateness. If this is incorrect please let me know and I will edit my post.)

Talon listened intently to the New CSO give his briefing and he was impressed at how the man seemed eager to do a good job even to the point of preparing a report while enroute to join his new command. He nodded his approval slightly as the man finished his report.

“Lt. Mas’Riat here,” Talon spoke up gesturing to the woman, “as you can see by her report, has been working on potential paths into Dominion space so I think it would be good for you two to work together on this and share information.” He sat back and waited on the Captain to either ask questions, give further assignments or orders.

(OOC: Welcome aboard Cap'n Lou.. I like your choice of race for your character... lets just hope we dont have to have Kato 3 report to a 'disintegration chamber" before this mission is over. )

Stardate: 2374.09.01
USS Charon – Captain’s Ready Room – 1910 hours
Kelsey sat behind his desk reading through the missive he’d just received by private relay. His narrowed eyes were studious, not angry, and the slight twitch to the corner of his mouth was indicative of a smile forming. The information he’d received was just what he’d been hoping for, but as usual, it would take some unique skills to act upon.

/--\\BEEP/--\\

“Come,” Kel said as he set the PADD down on his desk—face down on his desk.

The door slid open revealing a tall human, male wearing the command red and the pips of a junior grade lieutenant. He was clean cut, with black, regulation cut hair and kind, brown eyes. He had broad features, probably with some hint of African genes somewhere in his bloodline, but appeared Caucasian.

“You requested my attention, sir?” he said as he stepped inside and snapped off a salute, the door closing behind him.

“I did, Lt. Kennedy,” Gavison placed his right hand on the desk and leaned back in his chair, his left finding the arm to sit upon. “Sit down, Abe. We’ve some things to discuss.”

Lt. Kennedy did as instructed. Having served aboard the Charon for close to a year, he was well aware of Captain Gavison’s mannerisms and temper flares. He—perhaps better than anyone else aboard the Charon besides Commander Fletcher—knew the captain best, and had developed a thick skin where his dealings with the man were concerned, if not out of sympathy for the hellish history the captain endured, then out of respect for what he managed to accomplish. Even if the accomplishments weren’t always within Star Fleet regulation.

“Why is it that I have new assignments aboard my ship, and the first I learn of them is when one of them shows up at my door?” Kel drove straight to the point.

“Minor details I thought best to keep off of your desk, sir,” was the calm reply. Abe’s eyes remained fixed on Kelsey’s.

“Minor? Some of my senior officers and you considered them minor?”

“Not them, per se, but the fact that they were assigned recently. Being under repair with the knowledge that we weren’t going to be leaving dock soon, I felt that the introduction of said officers could wait until a more opportune time.”

“Opportune? Such as?”

“Such as the dinner you usually hold just before launching.” Abe’s face remained calm under the heat from Gavison’s gaze.

“Senior staff, and you thought it would do to—“ Kel’s visible hand had clenched into a fist, the muscles in his jaw clenched as he fought the urge to bowl the man out of his chair with a bellowed reprimand. Taking a deep breath through his nose, Captain Gavison kept his gaze level. “You weren’t informed of our pending mission, so I won’t hold you responsible for any delays your actions may have caused, Lieutenant. However, the assignment of new senior officers to my bridge will always, and I repeat, always warrant my immediate attention. Understood?”

“Understood, sir.”

The room fell silent once more while the two men stared at each other: one with a fiery countenance, the other a rock cliff before the storm. After what seemed like an eternity to Lt. Kennedy, Gavison spoke once more.

“The details of the mission are such: We’re to be joined by the Cerberus in a few days time, and shortly after, we’re entering the wormhole. However, after the Cerberus docks we’ll have the dubious honor of entertaining Romulan guests for a short term while they install a cloaking device. You’ll see to it that the replicators are programmed with a menu to their tastes, and that we’ve at least one bunk available in case they need to rest. Coordinate this with Lt. Cmdr. Talon so that his security forces can prepare.

“I’ll need you to also coordinate the secure delivery of a shipment currently held in cargo bay one-oh-nine. After making the arrangements for transfer from the Ferangi, Hinal, use the Charon’s cargo transporter to beam the containers on board. There’s no need for DS9’s security teams to concern themselves with the cargo, understood?”

“None of their business, sir.”

“Now, are the ship’s industrial replicators online?”

Abraham cocked his head to one side, unable to contain his surprise at the sudden shift in direction. “Uh, yes sir, I believe that Lt. Cmdr. Jones’ teams managed to repair the damage sustained in our last mission just two days ago.”

“Good. I’ll need some new furniture for my private quarters. Make sure that’s taken care of ASAP, Lieutenant.”

“Will that be all, sir?”

Kel considered the effective—sometimes overly effective—young man for a moment before nodding slightly. “That will be all for now, Abe.”

“Thank you, sir.”

As the Operations officer exited the ready room, Kel absently turned the PADD on its face while he considered what objections the man would raise if he knew what he was beaming aboard the Charon. Hell, the captain wondered if he’d receive objections from all of his senior staff should they know. Snatching the PADD from his desk once more, Captain Gavison rose abruptly from his chair and began pacing while pulling up star charts on the GQ. He was positive that he’d have to adjust Mas’Riat’s flight plans, though not through any fault of her own, and he wanted to make sure he was as familiar with the charts as possible before her report in the morning—besides, it kept his mind occupied while he waited on the arrival of his XO to report on the meeting with Shilotte at 22:00 hours.

Stardate: 2374.09.01
USS Charon – Officer’s Dining Room – 21:57 hours
The Charon was a light cruiser classification of starship since its refitting. Serving in the capacity of escort, frontier support, and combat support it was not exactly the luxurious design that some of the heavier cruisers were afforded, however, it wasn’t as sparse as some of the scout ships either. It did, after all, have separate officer dining, five luxury suites, and ten expanded suites; and none of the crew quarters could be classified as Spartan. Add on the fact that it had a captain’s yacht, and the ship was downright cozy.

It was in the officer’s dining room that Kel awaited the arrival of Jonathan Fletcher, his XO. Earlier that day, he’d set Commander Fletcher on an assignment to see if a Bajoran prylar by the name of Shilotte knew anything about the personnel they were to rescue from the Gamma Quandrant. The commander should have taken a couple of Talon’s security personnel just in case, and Kel was eager to learn of his officer’s findings.

Seated in the captain’s chair, Kel had already had food and drink brought in from Quark’s (no need to tax the replicators when there was a restaurant within an arm’s throw), and the spread for the two command officers aboard the Charon was wafting delicious scents through the air.

As usual, Jonathan Fletcher was right on time—the door sliding open innocuously as the red-shirted man strode in.

“I hope your day wasn’t nearly as eventful as mine, Jon,” Kel said, motioning unceremoniously at the seat kitty corner from him. “I’ve ordered Bajoran summer squash and lamber bird with some speckled something-or-other on the side. There’s a nice red wine to go with it as well.”

(OOC: allowing for some comments before diving into the report…)

Kelsey was a man of action now, a man bearing his own code of conduct, his own principles, the like of which occasionally collided with Star Fleet’s. None-the-less, he allowed his XO some time to enjoy his dinner before pressing him for his report.

“How was your meeting with Shilotte?”


Stardate: 2374.09.01
Deep Space 9 – Cargo Bay 109 – 20:03 hours
Lt. Abraham Kennedy stood just inside the russet brown door of the cargo bay tapping his PADD against his thigh as he scanned the visible isles between variously shaped and colored containers. Crewman Walter Ashton stood nearby, also peering about in an effort to catch any sign of the Farengi they were supposed to meet. In line with Captain Gavison’s standing orders both men wore Type II Phasers on their belts.

“You represent Captain Gavison I’m to presume?”

Abe turned slightly to his right to bring himself inline with the Farengi that suddenly emerged from between two large columns of cylindrical containers, one with red markings, the other with blue. Kennedy wasn’t surprised to see two additional Farengi with phaser rifles hovering not too far off, though it made him wonder what the captain was ordering on board even more.

“I am, and I don’t have much time for this, so if you don’t mind…”

“There’s always time for profit,” the smallish man grinned bearing a mouthful of sharp, pin-prickish teeth. “But, you ‘umans are an unusually passive people when it comes to profit, aren’t you?”

“And you Farengi are unusually profit-minded.” Abe sighed. “Can we get on with this? I have transfer protocols in hand for the shipment, and I don’t fancy I want to be hanging around with the order in hand should security show up.”

The comment elicited a snorting laugh from the alien as he slowly approached the operations officer his head kreening to the side to inspect Crewman Ashton as he reached out to accept the PADD Abraham Kennedy offered.

“Captain Gavison should have already handled payment,” Abe said by way of explanation, hoping to ward off any queries about latinum since Gavison had, in fact, failed to mention anything of the sort.

“Mmmm,” Hinal murmured in response as he took in the information on the PADD. “Yes, yes, your captain paid, though I ought to charge him extra for the hours this has sat in the cargo bay since notifying him of its arrival.”

“You could, but then I’m sure Captain Gavison would want to speak with you face-to-face about that,” Abe raised his right hand to his chest, allowing it to hover over his communicator badge, and smiled amicably at the bulbous-headed alien. “I could let him know if you’d like.”

Hinal hissed at the Star Fleet officer and shook his head. “There’s no need to get nasty, Lieutenant. I was just saying—“

“Well, I’d appreciate it if you stopped ‘saying’ and started doing,” Abe dropped his hand back to his belt where it rested on the phaser butt. “As I’ve said, there are plenty of other places I’d rather be right now.”

“As would I, ‘uman,” Hinal responded sourly as he turned and made his way to the pedestal-like computer control console. “I’m assuming these transfer codes have been cleared through security?”

“Certainly have,” Kennedy replied, still standing where he’d arrived at before the whole exchange took place.

Hanil muttered something further under his breath that Lt. Kennedy was sure had something to do with trading with ‘umans before the Farengi punched in the security codes and activated the transport. With the sound of the demolecularizing material still humming in the air, Hanil stalked towards the Star Fleet personnel and shoved the PADD in Kennedy’s face.

“Done! The deal is complete. Tell your captain to find his—“ Hanil suddenly widened his eyes as he realized he had just about revealed what he’d delivered, and his scowl was suddenly replaced by an apologetic smile like that of a cartoon shark. “Tell your captain it was a pleasure doing business with him.”

Kennedy’s brow furrowed, “I will.”

Stardate: 2374.09.02
The Charon – Captain’s Ready Room – 09:50 hours
Kelsey sat at the head of the table, as usual. To his right sat Jonathan Fletcher, at his left, the newly arrived Lt. Talon. Proceeding down the table from Fletcher’s right sat Lt. Jason Hamilton, and the newly arrived Lt. Cmdr. Kato 3. To the left of Talon sat Lt. Cmdr. Benjamin Jones, and the empty seat that would soon belong to Lt. Mas’Riat should she deign to join them. Pleasantries had been endured by Kel, and he’d remained stony silent throughout the various discussions that were bound to pick up while waiting for the meeting to start until, with an obvious frown of annoyance at Mas’Riat’s tardiness, Kel opened the meeting.

“I welcome Lt. Cmdr. Kato—I’ve not had much time to review your service record, but judging the circumstances Star Fleet is aware of, I’d imagine you’ll do just fine.” Captain Gavison peered calmly around the table, the expression of dissatisfaction still on his face. “You’ve all had time to consider the operation we’re about to undertake. We’ll obviously be making adjustments as necessary to our plans once the Cerberus and Captain MacTavish arrive, but we’d damn well better have a plan of action to present that is better than decent in the meantime. So, Lt. Cmdr. Talon, what’ve you got to add?”

“First off Captain,” Talon started, “we received very little further intel on the Dominion movements but what I did get I forwarded to Lt. Mas’Riat to help in her evaluation of potential routes into the system. I also sent her my recommendations on the matter but I left the main planning of this area to her and her ‘unique’ expertise.” The last held a hint of sarcasm about why she was assigned to this ship and this mission.

“Ships’ security is tighter than ever,” he said moving on to the next subject, “ and all Tactical system repairs have been completed. The Type X Phaser arrays are fully operational, both Mark XXV Photon Torpedo launchers are operational and the torpedo bays are filled with 45 torpedos, and Deflector shields are operational and running at 99.99% efficiency. I am working on getting that up to 100% before the end of the day.”

“As for the Romulans,” he set his PADD down and ended the data that had been streaming to the main display, “they will be under constant surveillance by either me or one of my men. They will be allowed only in areas they need access to do their job and each one of those will have to be cleared by either you or me. They will not be allowed anything resembling a weapon, and they will be subjected to a full body scan and I would like them to receive a full physical and medical scan as well to make sure they are carrying no concealed weapons or viruses. They only place they will be allowed even the smallest amount of privacy will be the quarters where they will be housed and then a guard will be stationed outside the door at all times.”

Talon paused to look at the Captain, his countenance showing no hint of humor now as he concluded, “If I had it my way, I would rather beam them out into open space where they would do the most good.”

“Wouldn’t we all, Talon?” Kel answered grimly. “But we will afford them all of the diplomatic interaction necessary to make sure this mission is a success nonetheless.”

Just then, the door opened and Mas’Riat entered, looking a little concerned, and with reason as far as Captain Gavison was concerned. Kel let his expression do the talking as she seated herself, then said simply, “The floor is yours, Lieutenant.”

When called upon, Mas'Riat began by calling up a 3D display of her projected flight path, noting potentially dangerous atmospheric conditions as well as probable interaction with enemy forces.

"Given the information availible, I supplemented our flight path with my direct knoweledge of some of the area involved and have come up with the most direct route with limited probable interference from Dominion forces."

Kel reviewed the path with the rest of them and had to admit, it was as sound as could be given under the current circumstances, taking them past Torga IV, through the Bopak System, and entering Dominion Territory near Vandros IV. It was a round-about approach, but the angle wouldn’t be expected, especially since the wormhole opened up near New Bajor, respectively some few light years away, and the majority of Dominion/Star Fleet occurances had taken place on almost a direct path to Calinon VII where a known Dominion base was located. It also meant that they’d charted their course away from all Federation listening posts. The only real danger in the flight plan was that it took them within spitting distance of Skrreean Space, though Kel was confident that they’d be able to outmaneuver any Skrreean patrols that far out should they stick with that course. Kel’s focus on the plan returned to Torga IV, however, for it was here that his own agenda interceded Star Fleet’s mission plans. Still, now was neither the place, nor the time, to discuss that little variance.

“Well done, Lieutenant,” Kelsey said through barely moving lips as he continued to study the plan on the holo-display over the table’s surface (another of the perks of the Saber Class). Communications could be handled this way as well. “It almost makes up for your lack of attention to punctuality…” The captain’s nonchalant reprimand was couched in such a way as to slip it under the compliment allowing him to move on. “Maintain this information on our secure datafiles until such a time as I deem it prudent to transfer it to the Cerberus. Meanwhile, make sure you’re utilizing all of the holodeck time you need to practice the run. I want multiple scenarios in place: Gem’Hadar, Skrreean, atmospheric, everything you can think of. Talon will help you with that, as will Hamilton and Kato, I’d imagine. You’re new to the Charon, Mas’Riat, so I expect you to become intimate with her very quickly.”

(OOC: any response…)

“Kato, I believe that makes it your turn.”

"Well, ladies and gentlemen," the alien began, "I've been on a shuttle from Eminiar 7 for the past few weeks, and due to the nature of our mission, much of my work will be in coordination with tactical. However, I have called up all the available information about planets and lifeforms in the regions of space we'll be flying through."

He quickly flipped through a variety of documents showing the traits of planets and planetoids they would be coming into the vicinity of, as well as lists of M-class planets that they could survive on if the ship went down, etc. Additionally, there were a few slides on diseases, viruses and hostile lifeforms that they might run into while planetside - the kinds of biological threats that were native to or common to the Gamma Quadrant.

"As you can see," he concluded. "I've very little to go on. The Federation doesn't exactly have a wealth of information about Dominion space, for obvious reasons. For a more comprehensive report, I'll have to coordinate with tactical."

Kelsey was impressed. The man just dived right into his duties, and for that, Kelsey was grateful to Star Fleet. Having an impressive science officer on board was more than necessary, and this one looked like he’d pan out just fine.

“Well done,” the captain offered up one of his rare compliments. “Take note of the flight plan, Kato. You’ll want to further instruct yourself in the regions we’ll be passing through.” Turning his attention to Lt. Cmdr. Jones, Gavison continued. “How are the repairs coming?”

Stardate: 2374.08.31
USS Cerberus – 1520 hours deck 5 The Lounge

After a few minutes of looking out the window as her roommate reads her book or report on her PADD. Shiarrael will stand up, tap Rhiana on the arm and remind her that they have about 10 minutes left to report. Gathering up both glasses she will return them to the dirty dishes bin, walk back to the table, and pick up her PADD then head to the door. One of the security guards will follow her.
(Assuming Rhiana is with her) Shiarrael will head to the door.