Past Prologue

Featuring the following NPCs:
jason-isaacs-1.jpg - S'Van

Originally Posted by Javier Costala/03-7-2009 10:08:41 PM

-Primary Sickbay-

The retrieval mission was a success, Jenny was waiting and there was little danger of him bleeding out. In BHP's estimation it had been a good day. Now to burn twelve hours and then blow this juice-joint. The Iotian leaned back onto the biobed and stared up at the white and tan ceiling. The soft lighting and relative peace of the area began to take effect as Ben felt his eyelids grow heavier..

He was walking down a ship's corridor. The corridor was dark, feebly lit by small lights that shone near the base of the walls at three meter intervals. The lights barely made any difference, he couldn't see the end of the corridor as their illumination was so weak. Ben sensed that the ship was familiar but he couldn't place when or where he'd been aboard. Music, muffled by the walls, played at the end of the corridor. The music was familiar too. He found himself being drawn toward the music and it's haunting sound. A door opened at the end of the corridor and the words to the song became clearer.

'Crazy, for thinking that my love could hold you. I'm crazy for trying, crazy for crying and crazy for loving you.'

The room from which the music issued also had light and Ben caught sight of a female figure as the woman peered out of her doorway, silhouetting herself against the soft luminescence.

"Hello Mister Pierce," the woman said, her voice husky, "do you want to come in and keep me company?"

"No..I just heard your music.." he tried to explain. The room was more inviting than the dark corridor but something about the woman's offer made him wary.

"Do you want to dance with me?"

"No, not with you, with…"

"Your girl? What did I tell you the last time?" the woman asked, expecting an answer from the security officer.

The last time? The confusion passed as BHP realized with whom he was speaking. "You told me to.."

"Hold your girl tight. Don't let her go." The corridor started to vibrate. The lights flashed then went offline as Ben was thrown forward to the quaking deck. He rolled over and tried to stand, grabbing on to the biobed and pulling himself to his feet. Biobed? BHP stared down at the bed then looked around him, expecting to see a dark corridor, but found that he was in sickbay. A sickbay whose environment was far from the one that he had fallen asleep in. The deck bucked beneath his feet making it difficult for him to stand. Every item that was not secured was either on the floor or in the process of being tossed to the floor. The ship was shaking like it was about to rip itself apart.

McMennan slid side ways in his bed and Pierce staggered over and managed to catch the guy before he ended up on the floor like BHP. Ben activated the homeostasis scanner and the shield raised over the cadet then began to read Aengus' vitals. What the hell is happening? Ben thought as a tray of medical instruments danced across a platform and fell to the deck. The alert sirens were activated. Are we under attack? His thoughts returned to his dream. Was it a warning? Is Jenny in trouble..or are we all in trouble?

BHP began walking towards the doors. The staff were busy with the other patients, particularly Koll, whose large Klingon form was being kept on a biobed by no less than three medical officers. It was difficult to walk because the floor was shaking so badly but he managed to make the hallway. His hand went to his commlink.

=/\= Jenny, this is Ben, where are you? =/\=

Originally posted by Jenny Anderson/03-7-2009 11:27:03 PM

::USS Chimera::
::Somewhere Between Decks 7 & 9::

General Quarters sounded several moments after the ‘lift had begun to transport Jenny to deck 9. “Shit… hold lift, return to deck four…” but the order went incomplete as the turbolift went into full lockdown… then everything started to shake… then, as the vibrations achieved the teeth-rattling level… the lights went out.

She’d left Ben’s side to finish out the watch in the armory only to be released by Senior Chief Jameson himself. He’d told her there were new orders pending for select members of the crew but had nothing to say beyond that and, "get some rest while you can." The massive officer had then favored her with a speculative look, “And if sleeping continues to be a problem, you’ll report directly to sickbay and get some help with that.”

It had been easy enough to agree… after all, one of the best sleep aids she knew was currently in sickbay.

Too bad she was stuck in a turbolift… alone… in the dark. “This is not a problem,” she said aloud but flinched at the sound of her own voice. “It’s not a problem,” she said, again, forcing herself to believe it. This wasn’t a dream… it wasn’t a memory… it was real and happening to the whole ship. “Not a problem…”

=/\= Jenny, this is Ben, where are you? =/\=

"Whoa…" Jen hit the badge as she rocked against the side of the 'lift, =/\=Just hanging around in the forward port 'lift… how's sickbay?=/\= She hoped he'd be able to keep talking…

=/\= Shaky. Are you okay? =/\= BHP changed the direction in which he was walking, picking up the pace as much as the ship's jitters would allow. He surmised that the lifts had gone into emergency shutdown and knew that Jenny would be stuck until someone got her out or Operations freed up the lockdown.

=/\=About the same,=/\= Jenny shoved herself into a corner, hoping to stabilize herself. She wondered if it were really getting warmer or just her vivid imagination. =/\=Are we under attack?=/\= If they were she really needed to get to stations… but no… they hadn't sounded battle stations.

=/\= I was hoping you'd be able to tell me. =/\= Ben found the maintenance hatch and after a struggle to maintain his balance and key in his access code got the hatch cover free and dove into the Tubes. =/\= I woke up and the shi..stuff had already hit the fan. =/\= he said, making an effort not to use foul language when speaking to a lady. =/\= Sorry, habit.. =/\=

In the dark, Jenny felt herself smile. =/\=No worries… not like I haven't been hanging with Fenton… or Gran… or Rak'h…=/\= The sentence was cut off as the inertial dampeners began to reach their limits. It wasn't the tremors now so much as the sudden, fairly intense, pressure. =/\=Do you feel that?=/\=

=/\= Yesssss. =/\= Pierce managed to say while trying very hard not to release his grip on the ladder. He was fairly certain that a fall, combined with the pressure being exerted on his body, would smash him into BHP jam. Jam being the stuff with all the extra pieces in it. Or is that preserves? the Iotian found himself wondering. He made slow progress along the inside of the turbolift tube as it was almost pitch dark. The small emergency lights along the tube's canal mocked him. =/\= You better not be learning cuss words from Fenton..that's unladylike. =/\= BHP teased as he continued down the dark tube.

Jenny almost protested that she probably knew more cuss words than Fenton and Rak'h combined but she had a sudden strange feeling, supported by the fact that for a guy recovering in sickbay, Ben was sounding really winded. =/\=Ben, where are you?=/\=

=/\= Where I need to be. =/\= he answered, hoping it was vague enough not to arouse Jenny's suspicion, knowing she would give him hell for leaving sickbay. His boots touched the top of the lift. It took a few minutes of searching before he found the hatch's manual release lever. The lever was hydraulic so he had to pump up enough pressure to open the hatch.

"Dammit, Ben," Jen broke off as she heard, above the dull vibration of the ship, another sound… loud and thunking and directly above her head. =/\=Okay, tell me true, is that you up there cause if it's not I have to go off coms long enough to kick something's ass.=/\= Yeah, I be tough…

=/\= You wouldn't hit a wounded security officer would you? =/\= BHP asked as he worked the lever on the door. The latch released with a hiss of pressurized air and the emergency hatch opened. "Stand back, I'm coming down," he said into the darkness, waiting before he dropped into the lift car. He could make out Jenny because the emergency lights offered a little more light to the dark shadows of the lift's interior. "You're not going to kick my ass are you?"

"No… but I ought to. Are you crazy?" she demanded even as she stepped towards the darker blot which had appeared, along with the dim lighting, in the midst of the 'lift. "You have no idea how close you came," she stopped as her reaching hands landed on Ben's chest. "What if that treatment didn't take?" she asked, her left hand moving towards where the bandage covered his forearm, "One scratch… just one…"

"Did I ever tell you about the .44 slug I took on Sigma Iotia?" Ben said. "Guy got the drop on me one night in a club where I was hustling. I was laid up for three weeks. Doc said it had missed a lung by about an inch. After three weeks I went back to the club and started working again." His left hand held Jenny at the waist then guided her closer to him. "Things happen, I go on and do what I have to. Making sure you're alright was more important than making sure I didn't fall out of my biobed."

"I was fine… I mean, you were talking to me… this wasn't worth risking your life over…" she began, touched but also concerned that he'd put himself at such a risk… again. A sudden surge in sound… a high pitched whine now… coincided with a spike in the small space's temperature and gravity. "But I think I'm glad you're here, now."

He pulled her close, hugging Jenny, holding her like the woman in his dream had said he should. "I spent too much time away from you before," Ben explained, "and I wasn't there when you needed someone." His arms wrapped around Jenny's shoulders. "I think about you..and I want you to be safe, I want to know you are safe. Being with you, lets me know everything is okay, not because I think you can't take care of yourself, because I know you can. I want to be certain."

She should probably point out that nothing was certain… and she knew he didn't really believe she could take care of herself… why should he? But right now it was taking everything to remain standing and it was dark and there was no way of knowing if they'd ever even walk out of this 'lift so did it, in the end, matter? "Okay," she said, snugging herself into him, "okay."

The ship seemed to give one last heave then a sound like a great sigh was heard and the shaking lessened until it ceased completely. The lights blinked on and power was restored to the lift as the emergency hatch closed. Ben didn't let go of Jenny though. "I guess we won the battle."

"I guess…"

=/\=Attention all hands=/\= an unfamiliar voice came across the coms, =/\=this is Lachesis speaking, for those who've not yet met me… your captain wishes everyone to be informed that Chimera has successfully departed the 24th century. Welcome to the Terran year 1944…=/\=

Ben whooped. "Did they do that just for me?" he asked Jenny as he moved away and held her at arm's length. "Chicago..1944..Spifflicated!"

All in all, the DeLorian would have been a smoother ride…

Originally Posted by Tatiana Thorne/03-8-2009 05:22:08 AM

USS Chimera
Deck 7, Primary Sickbay

She’d had about enough of sitting around.

“What are you doing back here?”

Tatiana shrugged, in actuality she had no idea why she was back. Normally she’d revel in the silence of her quarters, hoping it would last long, trying to wish away the next crisis or personal drama always managed to wrestle its way around her. On most days, the quietness of her quarters were soothing, but after staring endlessly at the last PADD that she had tossed aside, she realized that if she didn’t get out of there, her curiosity would get the better of her and she’d break her own adamant proclamation of not reading the file. She shrugged, “Heard there were injured.”

“We handled it fine,” Usha said. “I thought you were going to take it easy for the rest of the day.”

“It was what I intended but, I just got bored,” she said and nodded in the direction of the biobed diligently being watched over by the other medical personnel on duty, “How’s he doing?”

“He’s stable.”

“Great," she responded. Tatiana shrugged, "I guess I’ll just hang out here then.”

Usha walked away, and she was left standing alone in a midst of a relatively calm Sickbay. The oddness that came from working in a new venue seemed to be missing, as chaos was at a low. It was nearly uninteresting to witness when earlier she had been seeking something to occupy both her time and mind.

The ship began to shake violently, and the suddenness of it threw her off balance. She tightly took hold of the console next to her, hoping the shaking wouldn’t get worse and she’d lose her balance all together. It stopped, and she let go of the console, her hands aching from grip she’d had on the object.

=/\=Attention all hands this is Lachesis speaking, for those who've not yet met me… your captain wishes everyone to be informed that Chimera has successfully departed the 24th century. Welcome to the Terran year 1944…=/\=

Suddenly, the information ran together. The PADDs that had been left in her quarters made sense, it was a lesson, a brush up for whatever it was that was coming. And judging from what she had managed to catch from her reading material, Europe was more than likely the destination. It was then that she wished she had stayed in her quarters, she wished she had just a minuscule amount of power over the cosmos to influence it to not throw the universe's next big problem at them, and she wished she had actually read the damned PADDs rather than skimmed them.

Originally Posted by T'Shaini/03-8-2009 11:07:52 AM

:: USS Chimera ::
:: Bridge ::

Stars in 1944 looked identical to stars in 2385. That was Nils first thought as the ship decelerated and stopped jostling them all about. The 'sameness' of the stellar bodies, in fact, gave him doubt that they'd even achieved light-speed breakaway. They were alive at least so…

"Jada," said Nils breaking the silence on the bridge. "Astrological analysis… When are we?"

Shaking herself from the stupor the odd journey had placed upon her, O'Keefe quickly ran her hands over her console. "Galactic positioning is dramatically altered. Relative constellations are different as well. I'm extrapolating…" A very brief silence followed then she looked up with a blank and mildly shocked expression. "We are in 1944. According to Earth calendar this is late May. I can narrow that down as soon as the computer places all the stars correctly."

"Lachesis, inform the crew," said the CO feeling both proud of his accomplishment and utterly disappointed that he'd brought the crew through time with little or no forethought and planning. The maternal Photonic nodded graciously then faded from view. Nils envied her. He was unaccustomed to making haphazard and knee jerk decisions and the wake of his sudden choice to transport the ship into the past left him mentally reeling. "Set course for Earth," he said quietly. "Maximum Warp… Wait belay that…" There were perhaps other cultures lurking about in space at this time. The Chimera's incursion could alter everything simply by being noticed by an alien astronaut. "Put us on silent running. We can't afford to be noticed. Keep our warp signature as unobtrusive as possible. Set us to no higher than Warp five." The lights on the ship dimmed as the new status took effect.

"Aye, Captain," said Vince, who'd maneuvered them so deftly into history.

The door to the bridge opened with a hiss and the crew of the Chimera was so deeply occupied that a newcomer elicited no notice whatsoever. The tension from the daring leap that had been announced had been no where near as calmly done as had been indicated. As the tension subtly shifted into a professional wariness, the counselor approached the Captain's chair and laid a hand on Nils' shoulder. "May I speak with you?"

Conscious of the touch, but still lost in his own mental rambling the Bajoran looked up at the woman at his side. Recognition was not immediate, but it came quickly. "T'Shaini," he said softly, almost as if he was seeing her for the first time. "We just achieved time warp," he added still trying wrap his brain around it.

"So I have gathered, Harry mentioned that he had discovered quite a bit, and that Atropos would have informed you…if it is not overstepping my bounds, I would very much like to inquire what it is she revealed." T'Shaini kept her voice low, not just in concern for who might be listening, but there was an unaccustomed…fragility about the Captain that she wanted to treat with care. He has just brought hundreds of people under his command into the past…it is no wonder.

"Atropos… Right." The young CO's eyes came into focus and he rose abruptly from his chair. "Stryfe, engage. Keep an eye on surrounding space. Give anything that looks like it might scan us, fire on us, or try to initiate any contact a very wide berth. Silent running means just that…" He brought his attention back to the counselor and said, "My ready room?"

T'Shaini had barely time to nod when she found herself stretching her legs to keep up with his long stride. Once in the room the Vulcan crossed to the large view-port. "It looks much the same, does it not?"

"Exactly what I was thinking," Nils agreed. He almost sat, but instead made his way to her side and gazed out into the inky blackness. The dots of white light still inspired wonder. What is out there? "They make me feel very small…and insignificant. I like that feeling."

The counselor smiled, it was such a…defining statement for the Bajoran. Looking up at him, the smile broadened. "I understand." Then with a sigh her face lost some of its brightness. "What did Atropos have to tell you?"

Nils smiled and shook his head. Turning to the small living area in the ready room, he began, "Evidently S'Van's got his own agenda, which we already knew. But he's been interviewing specific crew members in regard to this expedition into the past. He's been working under the table the whole time. No surprise there. But then it starts to get ugly." The Bajorans sighed deeply and sat on the chair, head in his hands. "S'Van threatened Harry and then Harry fired off and punched… You know, sometimes I just don't understand people." His tone was dark and devoid of emotion. His brows rested low over his eyes.

"Nor do I sometimes…" T'Shaini tipped her head to peer up under the lowered face to catch his eye. "which I suppose is the last thing you want to hear from your counselor…but the good news is, I like a challenge…" Her voice dropped off from her light tone at that thought. "which is eerily like what S'Van was asking me. 'Do you like puzzles.' Interesting." In the interest of changing the energy of the conversation, the counselor gestured toward the seating area, then moved to take a seat and folded her legs beneath her. "Since you have mentioned it…Harry…well, Harry and Javier…."

If it was possible, Nils expression darkened. "I'm not certain I'm ready to deal with them yet," he said in even callousness.

T'Shaini's open expression did not alter even though she felt an internal 'oh oh'. "When do you expect you will be ready to deal with them? And is there any assistance I can offer?" She asked lightly.

"I don't know," he offered as he leaned back in the chair. "I have a… I'm not sure… If you haven't noticed I don't get over things that well." He shrugged innocently.

"Mmmmm…" One eyebrow lifted. "However, considering the fact that we are referring to your XO and Chief of Engineering, it in the ships best interest that, whether you are over it or not, something be done…and be done by you." Her expression softened. "Also…they are your friends."

Again the pressure of the center seat and dutiful obligation rested squarely on either shoulder of the Captain. He nodded gravely. "It's the something that gives me pause. I don't know what to do with either of them. It's entirely possible that formal charges will be brought up on both of them. And regulations are clear when it comes to assaulting fellow officers. I know there are mitigating circumstances, but there are always mitigating circumstances. Both of them know their duty." The Bajoran took a moment before continuing. "And although I know neither of them had me in mind when they…reacted… I can't help but feel personally betrayed. They've both placed me in a very difficult situation. And my duty requires that I do something." Slumping forward he rested his head back in his hands. "And like I said… I don't get over things very well. What should I do?"

"Oh Nils." T'Shaini leaned foward and put her hand on his knee. "I understand, I truly do." A corner of her mouth turned up in an ironic twist. "If anyone understands that situation…I do. And I see no reason that that exact reasoning cannot be what you discuss with them." With a nod she sat up straight. "You do not have to deal with this on a purely professional level, their relationship with you does not denote that..not that I am encouraging you to behave in an unprofessional manner…not that you would…" She smiled. "but you can tell them the feeling of betrayal, the difficult situation, it will likely garner far more results than an official dressing down."

A huge sigh and an almost groan escaped from Nils and he rose from the chair. "There are just so many important things that need doing. And you're right… As usual, you are right. I'll head down to the brig and see if we can't find that something that must be done." Although clearly not pleased with the task, Nils did feel completely resigned to it. "Would you care to come along" asked seriously. It was obviously a plea for help.

"Would I care to?" The counselor bit back a smile. "Truthfully…after the last encounter I would be happy to let you to the lions den alone…" She rose and walked toward the door, then turned back with a small smile. "but alas, duty will prevail." And with an overly grand gesture she waved Nils through the now open door. "I follow you, oh Captain my Captain."

Noooo, don't make us go talk to the crabby people….

Originally Posted by Javier Costala/03-9-2009 11:02:41 AM


He'd ridden out the time leap on the bunk in his cell, hanging on for dear life as the ship jolted and shook against the eddies of time. "What the hell is happening?" Javier had yelled at the security officers. Receiving no answer, other than being roughly tossed to the floor of his cell by a force slamming into the ship, the engineer had surmised they were under attack or Vince had flown the ship into an asteroid field.

"Note to self, requisition seatbelts for the brig," Harry had called out above the clamor of the deck plates rattling. "Maybe we're passing through an ion storm.." the First Officer suggested.

"Can't be, not enough electrical damage and there isn't any static in the.." A jarring crash shook the vessel and the lights blinked on and off. The Chief Engineer watched from the floor of his cell as the energy field that incarcerated him flickered weakly. "..atmosphere." The field returned to full power, glowing brightly and dashing any hope Javier had of escaping the cell. He wanted to be in Engineering, needed to be there, so he could ascertain how much damage the ship was sustaining and begin making repairs and sending out teams. Who's doing that now? Tehamia? Kal-El? Foxe? Javier felt like he was going to vomit. The thought of Foxe taking over as Chief during his absence made the engineer sick.

The inertial dampeners failed as the ship 'dropped' a few feet then slammed back up. "Ugh." He felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. Javier rolled over onto his back and almost immediately regretted the decision. The force of gravity pressing down on his chest was unbearable. "Got to get up off the deck," he stated through gritted teeth.

"Why? Where you gonna go?" Finn said from across the room.

"To the bridge and kick some jackass in the…ass," was the reply. The engineer pulled himself back on the cot as the ship broke free of, or outran, the force that assaulted her. Javier grumbled and stood to his feet as the dampeners readjusted and the lights were restored to full luminescence. Frustrated by the lack of communication with what was happening, and more than a little perturbed by the thought of Foxe in command of Engineering, Javier could feel fury beginning to fester within himself once more.

Control it, push it down, breathe..don't give in to that feeling. the engineer told himself in an effort to buffet the growing waves of anger.

=/\= Attention all hands, this is Lachesis speaking, for those who've not yet met me… your captain wishes everyone to be informed that Chimera has successfully departed the 24th century. Welcome to the Terran year 1944. =/\=

"Oh no…no, no, no, no, no, no," the engineer stated as he began to pace back and forth in his cell. Fury was replaced by nightmarish fear and an overwhelming sense of trepidation which produced a state of deep concentration. The singular subject of this state was the comparison Harry had made to Halcyon. If what the XO had said was true, and Javier had no reason to doubt him, Nils and S'Van had returned them to the time and place similar to his ultimate nightmare. He could hear Harry speaking to him but the words did not register. I have to protect Lia and T'Shaini..we have to leave, to return to our own time. How could Nils do this? It's not like him to dive into something so recklessly. What was he thinking? At that moment, Javier looked up in time to see Nils and T'Shaini walk into the area between he and Harry's cells.

"Time jump?" Javier asked Nils angrily, "1944? Zombies? Do I need to remind you how dangerous they were the first time we met them? Have you lost your ****ing mind?"

Originally Posted by Torrik Nils/03-9-2009 10:58:05 PM

:: USS Chimera ::
:: Brig ::

"Time jump?" Javier asked Nils angrily, "1944? Zombies? Do I need to remind you how dangerous they were the first time we met them? Have you lost your ****ing mind?"

Harry winced then raised his hand, "The zombie bit is my fault," he admitted, meeting Torrik's suddenly redirected glare. "He asked what was up so I told him and maybe made a slight comparison between World War II and Halcyon and… Hey, it's not like Tennyson and Hitler don't have a lot in common. They both wanted a master race… they both slaughtered millions…" Wendy's eyes joined Nils and Harry had to stop himself from shuffling his feet like a schoolkid called up by his teacher, "Just saying…"

"Oh Harry…" T'Shaini fought the urge to put her head in her hands. "Nils, can we all get into the same room? I find the current arrangement…prohibitive toward a healthy discussion." She looked to Javier, took in his fixed gaze on Nils and nodded sadly to herself.

The Captain regarded the men behind the charged pane of energy then turned suddenly to the guard. "Open it up and give us a minute," he said. The guard, one of Chimera's original crew, did as he was told and scurried out apparently aware of impending fireworks. Once they were clear, Nils began. "I'm not even sure what to say to the two of you," he started, disappointment apparent on his face. "You know me, and I'm not going to pretend I'm the high and mighty Captain with either of you. I'm not going to try to motivate you with platitudes like you're crewmen or cadets or some disillusioned Chimera personnel requesting transfer. I'm not going to do any of that… But I really don't know what I am going to do."

Harry hadn't bothered to leave his cell, figuring, what was the point? "You could corner S'Van and get the lowdown on his grand scheme… now that we're four hundred years from home…"

"So wait, there's no zombies.." Javier said as he shook his head at Harry. "Thanks for that." Some of the anxiety, along with the anger he felt, started to drain away.

"I do not think that is exactly what Nils is referring to…" T'Shaini said dryly. "are neither of you concerned with the possible repercussions of your actions?"

There was nothing Harry could say… or nothing that would make a difference.

"I'm ashamed that Lia saw it happen." The engineer stared down at the deck plates as if he were suddenly interested in how they fit together so seamlessly. "But Foxe has had it coming for a long time," he blurted out. Looking from T'Shaini to Nils and then back at the deck, Javier added, "I guess I could have picked a better time and place though.."

"And perhaps a better method." T'Shaini felt something release at the acknowledgment about Lia. "Could you not have used more official channels?"

"Yeah," he agreed. "Sorry," Javier told the group, even Harry, whom he'd let down too. "I'll make it right."

"Tell me there is a better explanation than 'he had it coming,'" Nils said with only a mild sense of exasperation. He looked from Javier to Harry and nodded at his XO. "I suppose S'Van 'had it coming' as well?"

"There's no answer I can give you that you'll understand," Finn replied, thinking that the man who idolized Batman's non-lethal principles would never concede that S'Van's predatory approach to the… crew deserved any reciprocity.

"From what Harry's told me, minus the zombies of course, I can say with all certainty that Commander S'Van had it coming," Javier told Nils.

"It's not ours to dole out retribution," the Bajoran stated quite plainly. "But I suppose it's not mine to understand either," he spat venomously toward the First Officer. Shaking his head, the CO put his back to the cell and paced toward the controls a few slow and deliberate steps. "I'm not going to preach at either of you. Either you understand my perspective or you don't… But let me make this clear," he spun on his heel and his brows fell low over his eyes. "Retribution against fellow officers in this fleet by any means other than official, flies in the face of everything we fight for. And I will not shield you from consequences that you duly deserve." He deeply despised the fourth pip on his collar at this moment and fantasized about running particle density calculus in one of USS Sentinel's labs. He silently wished he had the capacity of either of these men to forge ahead, but he felt intensely weighted down and burdened by the need to do the right thing.

"Nils.." T'Shaini quickly moved to the Bajorans side. Harry was radiating an intensity that would have set off anyone's 'fight or flight' mechanism and even without looking she could feel the disappointment of what Javier perceived as a friend's betrayal, Why do I know that? which was so close to what she had discussed with Nils. "surely their service history and history with you merit a longer discussion than this." She said gently, her hand on his arm.

"I'm willing to listen," Nils said, his tone softening and his expression full of surrender. "But so far neither of them has actually said anything. Regardless of Foxe and S'Van's behavior I expect more… When the bad guys are bad we have to become even better!" He paused realizing he was becoming preachy, which he'd promised himself he would not do, then he rubbed the stubble on his head with abandon.

"Have you given them a chance?" T'Shaini asked, she glanced back at the two men and her chest tightened. "It is a risk…it is always a risk to allow something other than regulations help shape your decisions, but you know these men, you trust these men…perhaps it would help if you discussed why this is difficult for you as well." A glint of humor lit her eyes. "And I mean personally."

Standing at a crossroads, the Bajoran decided to follow the Counselor's lead. Despite the discomfort, he knew there were 'bigger' places they all needed to be. The universe needed saving… Again. "Personally…" He struggled not to give in to the muttering and stuttering that characterized his attempts at being transparent. "Personally, I feel betrayed. I can't do this when the people I trust to protect the interests of our ship, the fleet and…me… I can't do this alone." He threw his hands up and gave in to his need to not be talking at that moment. Feeling very weak, he just stopped talking and hoped someone would fill the silence.

"Wonderful." T'Shaini was overwhelmed. "Gentlemen, I think it is your turn to ante up." She said with a warm half smile.

"If you ever say anything like that again I'm going to punch you in the face," Javier told Nils. "Of course you can trust us, Harry busted his half-dead, old ass to save you on the mirror ship from hell. And I..helped out a little too. We transferred over because you're our captain, not because of some douchebag from Section 31 made us switch ships. So we screwed up..I mean I did, Harry was trying to help the ship and you. And now you feel betrayed? I can think of worse ways for a person to be betrayed.."

"Hold up," Harry finally stepped in, vocally if not physically. "Nils is right. I could have… approached the problem differently." He didn't look at T'Shaini now, "I could have gotten into those files without him ever knowing… I didn't. I forced the issue. I can't lie, I won't say I'm sorry I laid into him but I am sorry it affected your command."

"It's not about my command," Nils said softly. Surely they knew him better than that. "Half the time I'm not even sure I want a command." Then he turned to Javier and said, "And if I didn't trust you both then I wouldn't feel betrayed in the first place. You wouldn't have the power to make me feel that way… But…" He struggled to make sense before continuing. "But if you are locked away in the brig, or sent off to Megiddo III for a JAG hearing, or worse - dead because you picked a fight with the wrong person," he added rounding back on Harry. "Then you are gone. One stupid move…or two," he said with a shrug adding their respective punches together, "could remove you from the positions in which you make the biggest difference. And for what? So the other guy can learn a lesson? To use the Terran vernacular, there are bigger sea dwelling creatures to batter and cook in over heated animal renderings." Or something like that.

T'Shaini blinked a couple of times in confusion then nodded at Javier and Harry, carefully not looking at Nils. "Exactly." She had to take a breath so she would not chuckle at the echoed bewilderment from the cells. "The question is, what is to be done."

Nils sighed very deeply and pursed his lips. "I think we can revisit the 'what is to be done' when things aren't so… imperative. We're over four hundred years in the past and the United Federation of Planets doesn't exist yet. Regulations can wait until we've returned to a time when they are relevant. For now, you're released on your own recognizance if you promise to be good. The ship and the future need you at your duty posts and so do I." He wanted to smile and make like it was all better, but he couldn't. "Javier… Steer clear of Foxe and put him on another duty rotation from you. This is a big ship and I think you can find room for the both of you. Harry… " Nils shook his head. "Watch your back," he said with sincerity. "We have no choice but to play S'Van's game until all the cards are on the table."

"Okay Dad," the engineer grumbled as he stepped out of the cell. He stopped and looked at the three people that he had come so far with. Javier smiled. "What do you say we go find some big sea dwelling creatures to fry."

This "Thank God Almighty" moment brought to you by the Harviershainils… No that didn't work… Harry, Javier, T'Shaini, & Nils!

Originally Posted by Harry Finn/03-10-2009 09:57:42 AM

::USS Chimera::
::Conference Room - Deck 1::

Commander Rev S’Van looked over the well-packed room. Aside from the primaries, those he’d culled from the Hawking’s relocated crew who best fit the the descriptions found in Aubron’s records, there were those responsible for offering training and technical support to the teams being inserted. Then, because Captain Torrik had insisted, Lt. Commander Vail and Master Chief Ibrahim were also in attendance. They had been assigned as witnesses not only to this initial meeting but, as the young Bajoran had so plainly put it, to provide oversight during the individual team briefings.

Rev sensed a touch of Finn in that arrangement.

Finn… who did, it seem, have a place in this mission, after all.

As did the Captain himself… he and the Counselor. Tricky business, that. The half-breed, Star, would have enough trouble blending but a Bajoran and a full-blood Vulcan? His eyes sought out the Vulcan in question only to discover her eyes already on him. S’Van allowed the merest hint of a smile to cross his features before glancing down at his notes one last time, then rising to gain the room’s attention.

“Let us get to it,” he began and the uneasy shuffling and soft murmurs ceased. S’Van took a moment to meet each and every pair of eyes of those sitting and standing about the room. They were curious, concerned, analytical, excited or antagonistic… but all attentive. “Everyone knows, by now, that we have successfully broken the time barrier to return to the Earth year, 1944. We have done so because, quite simply… we had done so.” He held up a PADD upon which he’d notated the specific assignments, “The artifact which Terra Prime stole was one of three containing records of several small… seemingly insignificant actions… during the onset of Operation Overlord…”

As S’Van continued, bodies leaned forward and the odd small gasp emerged from the less-seasoned before the weight of the history these few would soon bear dropped a heavy silence over the room. By the time the meeting broke, to be followed immediately by the individual assignments, S’Van fancied he could hear the thudding of a dozen hearts, beating to the rhythm of distant drums…

Rev sat and stared down at his notes until the moment passed. When he again looked up, it was to meet the serious grey gaze of Crewman Anderson, flanked on either side by the twin watchdogs of Callan Vail and Mustapha Ibrahim. Them, he ignored. “Her name,” he began, nodding permission for the young woman to sit, “was… is…. Lissete de Rouen…”

Featuring NPC Commander Rev S'Van

Originally Posted by Emily Star/03-11-2009 10:38:28 AM

The room was a buzz of chatter. People scratching their heads, other staring out into space and some just staring at the wall in silence. Emily looked around, a bit of everything running through her. A moment to stare at the wall, a moment to scratch her head and take in the new information and a moment to stare into space.

"Cadet Star," S'Van said,"This is your assignment. Read it, research it and be prepared."

She looked down at the PADD,"Sir," she said staring blankly at what she had just been handed,"Why am I included in this? There are far better security members who can handle…"

"Didn't you hear what I said?" he gave a cold stare,"These events have already been set in motion, we've already done them. You, for whatever reason, are included and you need to make sure you do what is on that PADD."

"but how?" she said quietly.

"Obviously that is something you will have to find out for yourself."he looked around the room,"Everyone here is wondering that exact same question. They're all a part of this and don't think for a second your the only one to be afraid."

Emily smirked,"I'm a betazoid, I know I'm not the only one. But..I'm not afraid of the mission. I'm afraid of screwing up the mission."

"Cadet Star," he rubbed his chin,"You're the one who retrieved the final artifact."

"Sort of." she added.

"Sort of?" he raised an eyebrow, a roll of his eyes and slight sneer followed "Either you did or you didn't. There can't be a halfway point in these kinds of jobs. Don't add dramatics."

"Well I guess I did but I didn't do most of the work." she started to say.

"That's just it, you weren't meant to. Just do your part, get it done right and keep your nose out of the others buisness" his tone lowered,"and find a way of covering those ears."

Emily touched them,"Yes sir," she replied.

S'Van left her in her own thoughts, which were many and went to his next victim.

"Well lets see…" she opened the file up and checked the information,"Oooh great." she mumbled smacking her forehead,"I don't like french!"

featuring S'Van :) greatest thing next to the milkman.

Originally Posted by Javier Costala/03-11-2009 11:38:48 AM

-Corridor, Deck 1-

Mission Boston. 508th Parachute Infantry Regiment. 1st Lt. Malcolm Branden. Parachute? What the hell? No. Transporter, dropships and shuttles are fine but a parachute? No way. I'm not jumping out of an ancient shuttle on a bunch of strings and cloth. Javier let his eyes run over the remaining information which Commander S'Van had provided. 'Lt. Branden landed a mile away from his intended drop zone because of cloud cover and flak. He was instrumental in gathering a number of stragglers from the 508th and 507th and proceeded to the nearest roadway.' the engineer read an excerpt from a report made in 1944.

"Parachutes. Cloud cover. Flak. Stragglers. Sounds like a real cluster****," Javier remarked as he walked along the corridor. Even with advance knowledge of the terrain and enemy troop movements it was still going to be one hell of a dangerous mission. He had to follow the pattern of movement made by Lieutenant Branden.

'Near Picauville..' Where is that? 'Branden and his makeshit unit fired upon a fast-moving German command car and killed the commanding officer of the 91st Infantry Division, a German division assigned to…'

Javier sighed and ran his hand through his hair. S'Van had handed him a near impossible mission, one which he would most likely not survive. The engineer had to somehow link up with enough American soldiers to reach a road that intersected with the another road that led to a place called Saint Mere-Eglise to kill an officer in a speeding car. He would be alone in hostile territory, blundering along in the dark of the early morning hours, gathering allies to try and get to a point where he would shoot the German officer. The first time the event had occured it was by pure chance, now Javier had to retrace the extraordinary journey of Lieutenant Branden and hope that nothing he did changed the way history had been written.

There's a very good chance I won't be coming back from this one, the former marine turned engineer realized, T'Shaini is going on her own mission but..and Lia.. Javier's progress toward the turbolift ceased. His thoughts returned to the meditation cycle he'd experienced while in the brig. I have gained so much..Lia and T'Shaini, I don't want to lose them by accepting a mission which has a ninety-nine percent chance of failing. The officer turned on his heel and made his way towards the observation lounge, returning to the room he'd left only a few minutes before. He found S'Van easily enough. "Commander, I think you've made a mistake," Javier stated as he approached the officer, "I can't commit to this mission." The engineer had waited until the room had cleared almost entirely before approaching the officer.

"Interesting," S'Van commented, although it clearly was not, he had expected as much from Costala and still had a few cards to play. "What is your reasoning behind refusing to obey a direct order?" He'd traded the term 'assignment' for 'direct order' confident in the fact that the former marine would feel a certain amount of discomfort at refusing to obey an order. The tactic worked.

"I..I have a family," Javier answered uncomfortably, "and this seems like a one way deployment.."

"One of the reasons why you were chosen, is because you have a, shall we say, high success rate when it comes to dangerous assignments," S'Van told the officer. He'd known that Costala's daughter and the man's close relationship with the ship's counselor may come into play but S'Van was prepared. "You throw yourself into a situation with what some persons may refer to as reckless abandon, I rather think it is courage," S'Van said in a silky tone.

"I try to do what I think is right in the spur of the moment." The engineer shrugged his shoulders and looked down at the deck. The incident with Foxe was fresh on his mind. "Sometimes it doesn't always turn out right though.." His eyes caught the PADD he was holding. "But this mission," he started, his eyes shifting back to S'Van, "to accept it wouldn't be's insanity, everything that could go wrong, did. I can't risk leaving my little girl without a father or T', this is something I can't do."

"You can and you will, Commander," S'Van said, his tone unthreatening even if his words were not. "You see, I have it within my power to make sure you never see either T'Shaini or Lia again. I know certain people within the Federation Justice Department, ask Commander Finn if you doubt me, but these people listen when I make suggestions." The intelligence officer paused for effect then continued, "The investigation into your rash actions and how they affected Lt. Foxe could appear on the desk of some crusader for justice, a young officer trying to make a name for himself, who believes the maximum penalty for showing such flagrant disregard for authority will send a message to any hot-heads in the Fleet."

Javier swallowed as the words sank in. It was blackmail, S'Van using his actions against him, and it was like what Harry had warned him about. He could almost feel S'Van yanking at his 'strings'.

"On the other hand, I have spoken with Foxe and he assures me that he intends to drop all charges in light of your heroic..sacrifice." S'Van let his eyes flicker over the emotions that registered on Costala's features. He always enjoyed it when his words illuminated their understanding, as if letting them in on a small secret, made all the more satisfying because he kept so many big ones. "And when you return," the officer mentioned as if he were making a promise, "all things will be returned to normal and you can enjoy your family with the satisfaction of knowing that you made the 'right' choice."

"Or that you made it for me," Javier commented.

"Quite." The officer from Section 31 let his gaze rest on the engineer. He knew that no more threats or promises were necessary. Costala may be rash but he was not a complete idiot. "I do what I can to complete the mission..the mission is what's important to me Lieutenant Commander. Remember, enjoying what is important to you is only possible if you complete what is important to me."

Javier watched silently as S'Van turned away from him. With a long drawn out sigh he sat down and began to contemplate his options while studying the training courses he would have to take to prepare for his 'jump' into Normandy. There is only one choice..and I have to play it Branden's way.

Originally Posted by Harry Finn/03-12-2009 01:20:08 PM

::USS Chimera::
::Outside Conference Room - Deck 1::

“Commander Finn, you once again surprise me.”

“Can’t imagine how.” Harry didn’t bother looking up from the PADD which S’Van had thrust at him. Major George Colthurst of the Special Operations Executive: inserted, with associate, behind enemy lines to arm and organize a maquis cell of the Gaulliste Arme´e Secr`ete. Colthurst and partner… Harry’s eyes narrowed as he read the background of the other man making the, quite literal, drop in the Massif Central, who was too young to be covered by Tenanji… supplied munitions and targets necessary to deter the 11th Panzer division’s redeployment to Normandy.

S’Van’s eyes scanned the mostly empty corridor, where Finn had retreated once he’d received his written orders, “I rather expected a bit more resistance to your involvement.”

Harry gave up trying to focus and met the other man’s eyes, “Why? I mean,” he waved the barely read PADD between them, “like you pointed out, it’s already been done… whatever is in here happened as-written so there’s not much point getting pissy about it. If I were gonna get pissy about it it’d be because you’re sending a nineteen-year-old apprentice…”

“Lissete de Rouen was only seventeen…”

The two men held each other’s gaze until, “So,” Harry continued, “Unless you really want to play out the whole, snarky, ‘do what I say or I’ll ruin you-slash-destroy your loved ones-slash-dance in your blood,’ scenario… and, as I’m sure you know, I own already own that t-shirt… why would I waste time trying to get out of doing the job?”

S’Van smiled, “Or,” he said, leaning against the wall next to Finn, “you simply recognize your duty. You know just how far a man must go to protect what matters.” And now he leaned over Finn’s arm and tapped the PADD’s controls, scrolling down to the crux of Colthurst’s recorded mission. Then he watched the subtle shifting in the careworn Human’s features as Harry read the pivotal action Colthurst had taken prior to their cell’s vital acts of sabotage against the Nazis.

Finn’s gaze flew up to meet Rev’s and there was a flash of something best not seen in a man’s eyes.

But S’Van held his ground. “It has to be done, Commander,” he pointed to the PADD, “It has to be done because it was done and, as we both know, change one thing…”

“Change everything.” Harry heard his own voice finishing the sentence but it sounded as if it came from somewhere… someone… else.

“So you understand,” S’Van straightened, “the only way… the only way to see that the right thing happens… is by first doing wrong.” And, as he did indeed know Harry quite well, Commander S’Van left him to continue studying, confident that Finn would, as he always did, get the job done.

Featuring Rev S'Van

Originally Posted by T'Shaini/03-12-2009 07:36:41 PM

USS Chimera
Observation Lounge

The room was emptying out, furrowed brows and escalating tension making it clear to the counselor that little of Commander S'Van's assignments were eliciting anything but worry and fear, when she had watched Javier stalk from the room clearly disturbed a knot began to form in her stomach. Somewhat to her surprise, T'Shaini saw S'Van indicate that herself and Nils be the next to approach the table of doom. "I do not understand why he unnerves me so…" The Vulcan said sotto voce as they fell into step together.

"Clothos says he's a snake," Nils said under his breath before closing the distance to the intelligence officer. The CO scowled, but knew all of this was necessary in order to accomplish the greater good and the more important goal. "How imperative is it that I leave the ship?" His question, laced with sincerity, indicated his desire to stay aboard his new command. It seemed somehow 'wrong' to disembark and leave his post so soon after receiving the assignment. He glanced at T'Shaini and gave her 'a look.' It seemed they'd been spending a lot of time 'tag teaming' lately.

"Utterly imperative," S'Van said dismissively. "Here are your assignments," he added as he handed them each a PADD.

"Marie Louis Dissard?" The counselor quickly scanned the pertinent information, then glanced up with a raised eyebrow. "I am to fill in for a Terran resistance fighter…one who led a cell that relayed the radio codes for the destruction of rail and phone lines prior to D-Day?" Not only her decidedly Vulcan features made this an improbability, but her lack of knowledge of the terrain or of radio technology in general.

"Yes." His smirk only made her more uncomfortable. "The lady was unfortunately…removed by the Terra Prime operatives, she played a vital function and we need someone to fulfill it, someone who can defend themselves in the event that another attempt is made to interrupt her relays. The PADD will tell you all you need to know."

"How reassuring."

Nils hadn't bothered to read his PADD, feeling mildly annoyed at his dismissal. "Do we know where the victims were removed to? If we could get a complete list of the subjects in question…"

"Due to the nature of the mission, it is best that each cell, each of Chimera's cells," he added as a point of reference, "remain ignorant of the other cells function and objective parameters. You will remain in the dark as to what the others are doing. I will take command of the Chimera and lead the effort to liberate the 'victims' as you called them."

"Wait," said Nils in frustration. "I'm not handing over the ship to you." His expression turned threatening and his tone became deadly serious. "As far as I'm concerned your a guest on board this vessel and at most a mission advisor. I'll make the decision about who sits in the Captain's chair if my absence is as necessary as you say."

T'Shaini stepped forward as S'Van rose slowly from his chair. "Gentlemen, please…" The air was alive with tension as the two men faced each other. She laid her hand on Nils arm and waited for him to make eye contact. "Surely we can discuss this without it breaking into yet another fistfight."

"There's nothing to discuss," the young CO said with a new sense of authority. "I'm the Captain of this ship and Lt. Tenanji will take the con while I'm gone. You will report to him directly and work as a resource for him. Your primary mission will be to find those missing Earthlings." He tried to leave no room for argument. "I assume the Counselor and I will work together?" He moved on smoothly and lifted his PADD to review it for the first time.

The Counselor quickly nodded, backing his remarkable show of strength…not that he needed any assistance, she could see S'Van visibly back down. "Andre Heintz, who was a member of Brissard's cell, is under threat as well, you will be there to assure that he survives." T'Shaini looked at the blank faces of the two men. "What? I read quickly."

"Indeed," answered Nils with a quirk of the eyebrow. "I suppose that is all we'll need from you then, S'Van. T'Shaini and I can work out the details of our assignment on our own."

"Yes…quite." T'Shaini could smell the marking of territory. With a dismissive nod toward S'Van just for good measure she began to turn toward the exit. "Shall we?"

The Bajoran smiled at the Vulcan and almost offered her his arm in jest. Something about dressing down the source of so much angst on his vessel made Nils borderline giddy. "We shall," he answered and joined her as they headed toward the corridor. "Oh and S'Van," the CO said suddenly spinning on his heel. "I've assigned two security guards to 'protect' you for the duration of your stay on board our ship," he said seriously. "They'll provide constant companionship as well, I'm sure. But what with the unpredictability of our officers as of late I think it only prudent to ensure your safety." He quirked a half smile and cut off the 'spook' before he could respond. "No need to thank me."

Tucking her arm in Nils's, their exit was vid script smooth…marred only by an uncontrollable fit of coughing that inexplicably consumed the Vulcan.

Grumpy and Doc plan their mission (credit for tag goes to the funny Javier)

Originally Posted by Javier Costala/03-12-2009 11:29:17 PM

USS Chimera
Beta Section-Deck 6

T'Shaini inhaled deeply, the verdant green of the surroundings, the air heavy with the fragrance of the flowering plants and shrubs, the many sounds of water, from the swoosh of running water in the irrigation trench that Lia was currently pretending was a stream full of fish to the drip drip of dew falling from the leaves behind her…all coalesced into the most soothing environment T'Shaini had been in….in she had no idea how long. Brushing a crumb off the blanket that they had laid out for their picnic, the counselor said a little prayer that the time alone, however short, would give Lia a chance to relax, lower her guard, and perhaps allow Javier the chance to rebuild the trust that had been shattered by her witnessing the incident with Foxe.

Seeing the direction of his sad gaze, she took his hand in hers. "It may take some time, but she loves you…"

"Are you certain?" Javier inquired wistfully. "I could swear she cringed when she saw me walk through the doors." He took a bite of the cheese and cucumber sandwich in his hand and chewed automatically, taking little comfort in the picnic food. He dropped the sandwich on the plate in front of him, sighed and pushed the plate away. He wasn't hungry, and the mission he'd been given by Commander S'Van wasn't helping his appetite. "I get to go by myself," he commented, "I mean on the mission..I'm getting dropped in the middle of nowhere, or I guess I should say I'm getting dropped in the middle of enemy territory to blunder around for a couple of hours then.." Javier stopped speaking as he sat a little straighter to make sure Lia was okay then turned back to T'Shaini to continue, "then find a German officer and shoot him."

"Oh." She quickly swallowed the now tasteless fruit in her mouth. "I suppose it makes a great deal of sense for you to be the one sent to complete such a mission." Who am I trying to convince? "I…" Be supportive, he has enough to worry about. "I would much rather you be in a less dangerous position." Ahh, good job counselor. T'Shaini grasped his hand tightly. "I know you are capable…more than capable, of handling whatever comes your way…I would just rather you did not have to."

"Well I wasn't very capable when it came to handling Foxe. In fact, I completely screwed up." Javier squeezed T'Shaini's hand. "I'm sorry I blocked you out, I was so angry at Foxe and at everything that occured with him since I came aboard." He shook his head in disbelief. "I've never felt that angry was like everything that he had said to me built into one moment and I unleashed all the anger I felt," Javier whispered, speaking softly as he contemplated the reasons behind his uncharacteristic rage. "You were correct, I have gained so much and I was close to throwing it all away." And still might if I don't complete my mission to S'Van's utter satisifaction.

T'Shaini closed her eyes for a moment and concentrated on the connection she felt flowing from their hands. Eyes still lowered she lay her other hand on top of their entwined ones. "Thank you. I was distressed that you were in so much pain and there was nothing I could do." Her fingers traced the outlines of his hand. "And concerned that what I said was not being heard…and if I am to be truthful, hurt that it appeared that you valued your past more than your present." A slight smile lifted the one corner of her mouth. "Which is not a comfortable thing to admit…being a Vulcan."

Javier moved closer to T'Shaini placing his arms around her waist so she could lean against his chest. "You are one of the best, if not the best, thing to ever happen to fact, you and Lia are in a close tie for first as to who is my favorite girl," he gently teased. "You helped me more than you know. I also used the meditation you taught me to help calm myself and realize that what I have now is far more important than what I once was."

"Meditation?" T'Shaini twisted around to see if he were in jest. "You meditated?" Not that she intended to sound incredulous or downplay what he was telling her…but…well, the last attempt was charming, but entirely ineffective.

"Yes..not Vulcan meditation though, I sort of have my own style," Javier said as a smile blossomed on his face. "It was..revelatory."

"Wonderful." She kissed him lightly on the mouth. A squeal interrupted anything else T'Shaini might have said or done as Lia came barreling back toward the blanket with a very soggy looking blossom in her hand.

"Look, a fish! I caught a fish!" The Vulcan supposed an incredibly active imagination, such as a child would have, could construe the shape dangling from her fingers as one belonging to a fish… "Good work Lia." Her enjoyment of the moment dimmed when she saw the automatic beeline for her father hitch and alter to swerve toward her. The damp child now crawling on her lap, T'Shaini retrieved the flower and handed it to Javier. "A very fine fish indeed…shall we have it for dinner?" Hoping the oblique inclusion would transfer to Lia.

"It's too pretty to cook," Javier replied as the water-logged flower lay in his hand. "It's almost as pretty as my two beautiful girls." He looked at Lia and said, "I think we should keep this one as a pet."

"A pet fish?" Lia whispered as if she had never contemplated the possibility that a fish could serve as a pet.

"Unless.." Javier cocked his head to the side as if he were thinking. "Unless we let this one go and then got you a real pet fish. A koi or a pair of koi would be nice..goldfish I mean."

"Oh. Goldfish." Lia told T'Shaini excitedly.

"Goldfish it is…not for dinner…" She added, tapping the child on the nose. "just for pets." She smiled over the damp curls to Javier.

"Would you like two pet goldfish?" Javier inquired.

Lia nodded her head emphatically.

"Then go release this poor fish," Javier said, holding out the limp blossom to Lia. For a moment Lia's fingers touched his palm as she took the 'fish'. "First, I believe T'Shaini would like to kiss the fish bye-bye." Lia held the wet flower out to the Vulcan woman while Javier winked at her.

One quick narrow eyed look to Javier, then T'Shaini bent down and kissed the…slimier than she would have thought, what is in the irrigation track? blossom and sent Lia off happily to free the 'fish'. "I believe there will have to be some sort of restitution for that act."

"Yes there will," the engineer agreed as he took a napkin and blotted the counselor's lovely Vulcan lips clean. Javier cupped her face in his hands and kissed T'Shaini. "More or less restitution?" he asked after a brief kiss, before deciding on his own more was needed and pressed his lips against hers. Enjoy it while you can. an inner voice seemed to say, this may be the last time you see her. Thoughts of his mission swept aside the pleasure he felt. And what about her mission? She's scheduled to be a part of this entire fiasco. Javier slowly withdrew his lips from T'Shaini's mouth. "I don't think you've told me anything about your mission."

"Mmm." T'Shaini glanced toward Lia, who was waving goodbye to the fishy, before returning her gaze to Javier. "Not much to tell, manning a short wave radio…dull work I am certain." She did not intend to have him worry for her when he was navigating a battlefield. A look of doubt flashed across his face, but was deflected by a small squirming body that had launched itself from several meters away and was now wiggling her way between the couple.

"Ooh looks like someone wants some attention," he said as Javier began to tickle Lia as she tried burrow her way to T'Shaini's lap. Lia giggled and laughed as she squirmed in T'Shaini's lap. And so she wouldn't feel left out, Javier purposely allowed his fingers to stray and tickle T'Shaini too.

A rather disconcertingly high (especially in comparison to her normally low pitched voice) squeal popped out of the Counselor before she could catch it. "That is it…this is war." She looked down at Lia. "Girls against the boy?" At the child's happy scream they launched themselves at Javier. Watching the release of happy laughter that consumed the pair, T'Shaini breathed an inward sigh of relief. Then a gleam of reality crept back in. We are brought together only to have to part again…and so soon.

JP with Javi's two favorite girls.

Originally Posted by Harry Finn/03-13-2009 09:48:47 AM

::USS Chimera::
::XO’s Office - Deck 2::

Two hours had passed since the briefing and already the holodecks were recreating various areas in occupied France. Some crew were learning how to use ancient arms in the target room and stores and engineering were doing their damnedest to find ways to keep the insertion teams camouflaged and in safe contact without contaminating Earth’s history. People were expected to learn as much French and Old English as they could… in case the UT tech didn’t happen or, if it did happen, didn’t survive in the field.

“Lay it out, for me.” Finn, contrary to preference, was seated behind the desk, running over the thousand and one things that needed to occur before they reached sector 001 and the thousand and two things that could go wrong once they arrived.

Right this second, on the couch, Alex Gorsky and Kenji Saito had their heads together over the 998th thing that needed to be done, with Jezeera and Min Lottz inserting the odd comment from where they stood on either side.

Before the desk, Lieutenant’s Tenanji and Grimm exchanged a short glance then Usher, having more experience with Finn, stepped forward. “Lt. Grimm and I are in agreement that the Anomaly will most likely see us coming. That said, we believe our best chance at a safe insertion of the Chimera crew and retrieval of the Earth citizens is to approach sector 001 in multivector mode, with Gamma section approaching first. We can easily insert and monitor the away teams from the tertiary section, alone.”

“While the remaining two thirds of the ship keep watch from the outskirts of the solar system,” Grimm said, sensing his cue. “It is quite likely the appearance of the Gamma section of the ship will panic the Anomaly crew, causing them to flee…”

“… directly into the sights of the Alpha and Beta sections…” Harry leaned back in his chair, “Unless they attempt to move through time.”

“They dare not,” Callan Vail inserted from where he leaned, seemingly at ease, near the office door. “Until they see that their plan has succeeded, they have no idea to what future they would return. These… people… will run, hide, quite likely attempt to fight but they cannot leave this era.”

Harry considered the El-Aurian for a moment, then made a couple of notes on a dedicated PADD. “I’ll run it by the Captain,” he said, thinking that Grimm and Tenanji would do best teaming up on the pursuit. Which left Gamma without a command… unless Nils were willing to leave Vail on the watch. Harry would put the Intelligence officer at the con without hesitation but then, Harry had good reason to know that Callan Vail was a very good man to have at your back… “Gorsky, what have you got?” he asked, moving on.

“Okay,” Alex rose but still had his eyes locked on the PADD before him, “a lot depends on how the abductees are being treated by the Anomaly crew. Given the general uncertainty there, I think our best bet is to attempt a short-term memory wipe and… this is dicier but Tee… Commander T’Shaini has access to a piece of Dosi technology which can be used to share or, with careful monitoring, alter memories. If we can adapt that tech to the integration matrix of the transporter systems we could, with Clothos’ help, substitute an appropriate series of memories to each victim…”

That brought the first officer to his feet, “What, while they’re transporting?” He started to move, making a counter-clockwise round of the desk, “and where are the memories coming from?”

Saito also rose but he remained safely ensconced between Jezeera and Lottz, “From you,” he said, then as Harry’s eyes flashed his way, swallowed, “That is, sir, from the away teams.”

“Again, with Clothos’ aid,” Lottz took pity on the lad and addressed the commander, “the unique intelligence of the Chimera herself will allow Clothos to interface with the Dosi psionic links. She will be able to identify and copy the appropriate memories in the time each away team member spends in the pattern buffer.

“Once copied, she can insert the appropriate memory to each of the recovered victims as they are being transported back to their lives…”

Harry raised his hand in the universal ‘stop’ motion. “Write it out and send it to the Captain.” Because Torrik would have a much better grasp of how many holes pocked this geek-spawned plan.

“Sir, yes sir,” Lottz looked at Gorsky, who was staring down at his PADD. “There’s just one thing…”

Ahh, the ‘just one thing’ moment. “Go ahead.”

Alex finally looked up and damned if Finn weren’t right there. “There’s only one person on the ship who has actual experience in building and… working with… this kind of memory manipulating technology,” he said, “and it’d be… helpful… to have her input on the integration…”

“You want Munro,” Harry said, saving the kid from having to say it.

“I… yes. Well, not want but…”

“Fine, whatever. Take what and who you need to make this work… after Torrik signs off.” Harry spun back to his desk and sat, busying himself with moving PADDs he could barely see from point A to point B and back. “If that’s all?” No one said anything, “Then you’re dismissed. T’Landra or Raynes will get back to you ASAP with a go or no go.” He waited until the door slid closed behind a speculative Callan Vail, the last to leave, before he dropped his head into his hands, lost in memory as every nerve danced to the macabre tune of the endless hours of torture… carefully thought out and specifically applied… courtesy of Dr. Jill Munro.

Everyone breaks…

This expositional moment featuring a plethora of NPC’s.

Originally Posted by T'Shaini/03-14-2009 01:29:50 PM

USS Chimera
Chief Engineers Quarters

She had spent some time at the target range brushing up on her sharpshooting, Who knows if it will be needed, but better safe than sorry. gone over and over the contact phrases and codes committing them to memory, poured over 3-D maps of the terrain and specifically the area in which she was to operate so that when place she would not blunder around like a bull in a china shop and now…now she was faced with…this.


Mid 20th century technology was crude to say the least. Marie was the leader of this cell of the resistance, but she had done enough hands on work that she knew her shortwave radio inside and out. It was necessary, the operators not only had to man it, but it was not as if they could take it to town to be repaired if it malfunctioned, so they knew how to pull them apart and put them back together again as well.

Well…T'Shaini had certainly pulled it apart.

Tubes and wires and…thingies were strewn about the bedroom floor, she looked back to the diagnostic. It amazed the Vulcan that this piece of equipment had the range that apparently it did. "Shortwave frequencies are capable of reaching any location on the Earth because they can be refracted by the ionosphere (a phenomenon known as Skywave propagation)." Or so said the manual. "Alright, slide switch…check, variable, trimmer and ceramic capacitors…check, enameled wire…check, coils…" The counselor fumbled around in the mess. "coils…" She could have sworn she had put it right down after she had pulled it from the cabinet. "coils…ugh." She scrubbed her face with her hands leaving dark streaks from the dirt and oil all over her face.

Assembling and disassembling, took the better part of an hour, it was not as though the process was all that difficult, more that she was so unfamiliar with any of the tech or even the materials that went into the build that it was akin to learning Klingon….or French. Once again she disassembled the unit and putting away the manual, slowly began to rebuild it. Tongue sticking out slightly the Vulcan carefully attached wires, plugged in the leads for the capacitors then mounted the coils. Nodding in satisfaction, the Counselor threw the switch….nothing. "Bah."


A small voice from behind her reminded T'Shaini that the reason she was sitting on her bedroom floor working, instead of in a lab, was that Lia was napping on the bed behind her. "Yes..bah. I am having difficulties solving a puzzle. If I had solved it correctly there would have been a buzzing noise…since I did not, we are only greeted with silence." A rather recriminating silence… T'Shaini thought as she stared down at the now anthropomorphized machine. Half crawling, half sliding a small body landed on the Vulcan, little arms wrapping around her. "Can I help?" The small sleepy upturned face was irresistible. "Of course." T'Shaini said, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. Knowing the best way to learn something is to explain it to someone else, the Vulcan began to show Lia how the radio was put together, pointing out components and having the child repeat the words back to her. It did not occur to her to speak down to the girl, she had never been spoken down to as a child and she saw no reason to do so with Lia. "And then these yellow cylinders, they are the coils…and though I believe I have put it together correctly, the machine is not on…so clearly, I have not."




T'Shaini followed where the chubby little finger was pointing. "The cylinders? You think they are upside-down?"

"Uh huh…the orange is on the wrong side."

The Counselor frowned down at the conglomeration of foreign parts. "Why is it on the wrong side?"

Lia's childish voice piped up. "The dark part should be on the bottom…don't you know that?"

Hmmm. "No, I did not Lia…let us give that a try." Unplugging the unit from the portable generator so there was no chance of either one of them getting shocked by the primitive technology, she and Lia removed the cylinders and carefully turned them around. Reaching over to re-plug the radio into its power source she sat back and looked down at Lia. "Should we cross our fingers?"

With a squeal the little girl crossed her fingers and held them up while T'Shaini flipped the power switch and they were greeted by a most gratifying hum.

"We did it!" Yelled Lia, throwing her arms around T'Shaini.

"You did it." She squeezed the child tighter and dropped another kiss on the top of her head. "One more mark for nature in nature verses nurture."


"Just a funny way to say that you are just like your daddy. Time for ice cream?"


"In more ways than one…"

Originally Posted by Jenny Anderson/03-15-2009 09:07:35 AM

::USS Chimera::
::Holodeck 1 - Deck 3::

“Papiere bitte…”

The young woman shifted the basket of bread and reached into her pocket but, before she could withdraw the identification the German officer had requested, another uniform… a Major’s, this time, stepped up.

“Mademoiselle,” he greeted in fluent, if accented, French, “you will come with me.”

“But… I h-have my papers,” she pulled them from the pocket of her skirt and held them out.

“I know and I am sure they are all… in order.” One hand accepted the small, well worn sheaf while another took her by the arm. “Nonetheless, you will come with me…” the eyes, so cold above the smiling mouth remained steady on hers. “I’m sure we can find much of value to discuss.”

The sergeant was looking away, now. Another French civilian was approaching on a bicycle and he moved to deal with him.

Jenny, firmly in the German’s grip, was taken to a small cottage, backed by a copse of trees, a good twenty meters from the checkpoint. She wondered how many people disappeared into this small, dusty room, then wondered how many walked out, again. She decided it would be a bad idea to trust that she’d be one of the lucky ones. The cottage was deserted but for herself and the Major so, thirty seconds after he’d closed the door, the officer was unconscious on the floor and Jenny, still holding the basket, had crept out of the paneless window, heading towards the river overland, intending to bypass the road altogether.


She didn’t. If anything the sharp order made her go faster. Anderson ran for all she was worth… bullets spattering clods of earth and stone around her feet as she zig-zagged through the fallow field. She ran until she was brought low by the flying tackle of another soldier; this one young and quick and, as the bread rolled out of the fallen basket to reveal the lumpen green plastique hidden within, furious.

Even now, she fought… elbows and knees and a Liverpool kiss doing the close in work, leaving the German well-bloodied by the time she rolled free… only to face the Sergeant, the Major and the Major’s Walther P.38. His expression was smug as he made a slight tsking sound, “I knew you were wrong,” he said quietly, still in French. “Too proud by half. You should have learned to grovel,” he advised as he brought the weapon’s muzzle to Jenny’s temple.

“Freeze program!”

Jenny let out the breath she’d been holding as Zal Govan stepped out of a stand of nearby trees, closely followed by Edded Baya who was walking with some difficulty through the torn up field, until Zal offered her his arm in support.

“You’re never going to make it to your objective alive, if that’s the best you can do,” the Cardassian told her as the two joined the frozen Germans who’d been about to kill the security apprentice. “You are taking the place of a girl who’s spent four years… become a young woman… under the occupation…”

“I grovelled,” Jenny protested, shifting away from the Walther, “I kept my eyes down and I even stuttered once…” I think.

“But you didn’t mean it… you didn’t feel it,” Baya said softly, “and the program parameters are designed to detect falsehoods.” She sighed, rubbing a hand over the restless child in her womb, “I don’t know… it may just not be possible… for someone who hasn’t been through it…”

Which was just what Govan had been thinking. As members of races who’d been on either side of a very similar occupation, he and Baya had been assigned to help acclimate members of the crew who were doubling French nationals. They’d worked with the historical database and their own understanding of the relationships between conqueror and subjugate but, for Jenny at least, it wasn’t enough. She’d grown up in a safe place… secure from even the idea of harm… at least until the Borg… and the Dominion wars. Even so…even being exposed to the dark realms her father and Commander Finn had brought home to roost, Jenny remained… untouched. Not even the mental depredations of the sociopath, Burkowski…

Zal felt his heart give a hitch at the thought. “Baya,” he turned to the Bajoran woman, “It’s been a long day. Why don’t you head home for now. I’ll call you if you’re needed for the next round.”

“Well, if you’re sure,” she left Zal the chance to change his mind, though it was clear to everyone that Baya was exhausted. The baby hadn’t enjoyed the time jump and, though the doctors had cleared her for this assignment, the mother-to-be was, as Chief Jones would put it, knackered.

Zal simply nodded her on and called for an arch. Once the Bajoran had passed through the exit, he accessed the control panel and made a few adjustments to the program. It was a cruel thing to do to someone with Anderson’s history but, if it worked, she’d have a much better chance at surviving any potential encounters with the German occupation force.

“We’re going to run this again,” was all he said…

“Papiere bitte…”

Jenny once again adjusted the basket of bread and reached into her pocket but, as previously, before she could withdraw the papers, the Major made his appearance.

“Mademoiselle,” he greeted in his German-tainted French, “you will come with me.” The officer’s eyes were as cold as before but this time they flashed down, to where the tarnished crucifix she wore lay against her collarbone and then he casually reached out to stroke it, his fingers grazing her throat as he did so. The officer smiled at the small shiver which, like the skin of a startled doe, traversed the girl’s frame beneath his touch.

Flushing, disconcerted, Jenny tugged at the identification which suddenly would not come out of her pocket. “I… I have… I have… ,” she finally got them out and thrust them towards the Major who was staring at her in a predatory and all too familiar fashion. “I… here,” she whispered, transfixed.

“So I see,” he took the small, worn booklet in his free hand and passed it to the sergeant, who flipped through the identification with practiced ease and handed it back to the other officer, saying something in German… the translator wasn’t allowing her to understand what.

The smile and the predatory gaze remained but the hand withdrew… slowly and taking the scenic route. Jenny found herself unable to stop the sudden welling in her eyes at the gloating freedom of his touch. That, more than anything, seemed to gratify the officer. “You should go,” he said, stepping back as his men lifted the makeshift bar over the small road, “It is getting late and a young girl should not be out alone…”

“Yes… I… yes,” she began to leave.


She froze and found herself unable to look back.

“You forgot your papers.” A silky hand tucked the small sheaf back into the pocket of her skirt, followed by the whisper, “I hope you pass this way, again.”

Jenny didn’t answer. She merely nodded her head and walked away on shaky legs, cursing her own weakness in the face of what Lissete probably had to deal with every time she left her home…

“End program.”

As the German officers and the French countryside faded from existence, Jenny froze again: this time in shame at being so caught up by the actions of the holographic construct she’d forgotten it wasn’t real.

“I’m sorry… I…”

“No, Jenny,” Zal Govan said, coming even with the young woman. “That was it. That… powerlessness… is exactly what they’ll expect from someone like Lissete. What Burkowski made you feel is what people like those soldiers want a defeated enemy to feel. If they don’t sense that… if they don’t believe you fear them… they’ll begin to fear you. And if they fear you, they’ll kill you.

“And if they kill you… Lissete will never achieve her objective.”

Jenny, still shaken, nodded.

“Can you hold on to this?” Zal asked, not unkindly, “Can you… access what you’ll need if you come across any of the enemy?”

“Not a problem,” she said as lightly as possible. The problem was when she needed to put the fear away, again. It hadn’t been so bad of late, with T’Shaini’s help and Ben’s steady presence but she wouldn’t have them on the ground. She wouldn’t have anyone she knew or trusted and if she failed… in any way… there would be no guardians, no saviors and none of the backup she’d become accustomed to working with as part of the Security team.

Which meant that, as much as she may hate Zal’s waking of the cold fear which she’d been fighting to erase, she understood why he’d done it.

She also, as she was released for a brief rest period, understood why Harry despised what his Great-aunt Sadie referred to as ‘method acting’.

Featuring NPC's Edded Baya and PO1 Zal Govan

Originally Posted by Javier Costala/03-15-2009 12:40:54 PM

-Holodeck 3-

Slow, gentle breaths. Now center the crosshairs. The target is elevated so remember to compensate for that. There's a strong wind coming in from the North West. He'd adjusted his scope prior to finding the target, but now chose to aim slightly higher and to the left. Inhale. Now exhale. His scoped shifted slightly, forcing Ben to adjust it once more. A light winked at him from the direction Pierce had been aiming. Something pinged off of his helmet, distracting the trainee and dazing him with the force with which it struck the thin metal pot. BHP shook his head and blinked as he tried to clear his head..

"Stop Program," Darby's voice called out. Ben cursed silently. When Darbs stopped the simulation it always meant he had done something wrong. He turned to watch Darby saunter over to him. Once she reached him, she lifted his GI helmet off his head and pointed to the dent in the front of it. "You're dead Ben," she said somewhat cheerfully.

"It just glanced off..ricochet," Ben replied in a disgusted tone, trying to argue because he was tired of 'dying'. Every holographic sniper he had gone up against had managed to best him and the frustration of being 'killed' multiple times was beginning to show.

"The safeties are on," Darbs pointed out, "so the projectile struck you, but only hit you with the blunt force and didn't penetrate the metal. If the safeties were off the bullet would have ricocheted," BHP grinned but it faded as soon as Darby added: "around inside your skull." She plopped the helmet back down on his head. "Try again, and this time acquire your target faster, you're still taking too long to adjust for wind speed and direction."

"Not to mention this rifle is made for a right-handed shooter," Ben pointed out. The sniper in training was forced to reach over the rifle to work the bolt on the Springfield and eject a spent cartridge after each shot.

"Follow the philosophy of 'one shot, one kill' and you may not need to work the ejector," Darbs replied primly as she backed away, removing herself from the training scenario.

BHP readied his weapon, sighting along the Unertl scope, waiting..

"Resume program."

"Shit!" Pierce yelled as he rolled out from the position he had been in, only just remembering the sniper had had him dead in his sights. Bullets spattered the part of the ditch he'd been laying in. The Iotian crawled down the length of the ditch, cradling his weapon in his arms so it wouldn't get too wet in the two inches of water and mud in the bottom of the ditch. Fire lanced the edge of the ditch, kicking up mud and dirt some of which hit him in the face. He kept moving until he came to a low stone wall. Ben remembered that it ran alongside the road across from the church in which the German sniper was hidden. He scrambled out of the ditch and crouched behind the wall and ran down the stretch of it until he found a good spot.

Guesstimating and adjusting the scope accordingly, BHP popped up, settled the M1903A4 rifle along the stone wall, found the German sniper in the church belfry and fired! The shot missed. Through the scope Ben saw fragments of stone fly from where his bullet hit. They hit the German sniper who flinched as he shot. Ben ducked even as the opposing sniper's bullet struck low on the wall he was hiding behind. Pierce worked the bolt on his weapon. The rifle was being difficult and the ejector was acting like it was jammed.

"To hell with you!" BHP cursed and then tossed the rifle to the side and drew his 1911 .45 pistol. I'm going to do this up close and personal. the Iotian thought as he crouched/ran alongside the wall, jumping over the wall and rolling over before coming to his feet and scrambling to cover along the wall of the church. He worked his way to the front doors. They were locked so he used his shoulder to bash them in. Ben was so frustrated with the training scenario, and how the rifle had crapped out on him when he needed it, that he had the doors forced open after two charges.

Taking cover behind some old pews, Ben worked his way around to the stairs that led to the belfrey. The German sniper fired at him repeatedly, sensing his demise and trying to change the course of history. The heavy rifle slugs tore through the ancient wooden furniture in the church and showered the Iotian with splinters. One splinter scraped along Pierce's cheek, drawing blood and infuriating the ex-gangster.

"That how it's gonna be?" he yelled at the man that was trying his best to kill him. "Okay you bastard," Ben said as he sprang from behind the pew and charged up the stairs, blazing away at the sniper with his .45. Shock and surprise registered on the German's face as the slugs from Pierce's sidearm buried themselves in the sniper's chest.

"Mein Gott!"

Ben crashed into the German. His momentum carried them back and out of the belfry.. The safeties kicked in and Pierce's fall was cushioned so that he bounced along the grass with a series of gentle thuds. Gentle and yet not, Pierce felt the wound on his right arm flare as he hit the turf. He glanced over at the enemy sniper. The man was dead. The German's image shimmered and disappeared as did his surroundings. The arch appeared as the room became a black box with intersecting vertical and horizontal yellow lines.

"BHP 1, Germans 5, not too bad.." Darby paused in her congratulations as her eyes fell on the blood that was staining the GI uniform sleeve. "Pierce..your arm, oh oh Jenny will kill me if I let anything happen to you in training." The security officer said as she began to panic.

"Damn it," Ben said as he looked at the sleeve. He grabbed the cloth and pressed it against the bandage which pressed against the wound. "It's okay Ensign, I'll go to sickbay and get them to patch me up again," Pierce stated as he stood to his feet and made for the arch.

"I'll go with you," Darby answered, then said, "oh hey, have you seen my new pink tricorder?" The security officer launched into a full explanation of how the tricorder came to be while they walked.

Maybe I'll pass out soon from the loss of blood. BHP hoped.

Featuring: PO3 Benjamin Hyde Pierce

Originally Posted bySimba Wekesa/03-15-2009 06:36:23 PM

U.S.S. Chimera
Target Range

Simba scowled at the replicated ancient firearm he was holding. He'd spent the last two hours training on the use of the rifle and, while his aim and accuracy was definitely improving, he found the whole experience frustrating. Of course he had passed basic phaser proficiency, but this was an entirely different animal. He'd barely begun the advanced Starfleet weapons training that his new tactical assignment required, and now he was being asked to learn to use an archaic projectile weapon.

But of course, learning to use the weapon was not good enough. If he was going to survive in 1944, he needed to become a near-expert in the weapons of the era. The rifle, he had decided, was clunky compared to what he was used to. The aim was far less precise than a particle beam weapon, and it was tricky to compensate for the heavy kickback that the gun gave when the trigger was pulled. And it was heavy, compared to a compression phaser rifle, and much louder.

Ensign Wekesa raised the rifle once again and, turning quickly to face the holographic target which appeared at the end of the range, looked through the sights and pulled the trigger. The rifle went off with a loud bang, the butt kicking back into his shoulder, which he was sure would be sore in the morning. The bullet hit the target, only a few centimeters from the bulls-eye, and the computer chimed to indicate a hit. He was definitely improving… his first attempts had disappointingly hit the wall more than a meter from the target. He grinned, ignoring the haze of smoke that surrounded him, and put the rifle on a nearby rack. He was glad, at least, that he wasn't going to be relying on the rifle much. His assignment was far more covert in nature, and would depend more on the skillful use of espionage, stealth tactics, and compact weapons.

Simba picked up another weapon, a silenced .22 automatic, and studied its cold metal shape. Though he needed a basic backing in a range of weapons, this particularly lethal pistol would be the one he would primarily rely on. The gun felt good in his hands… just the right size to be easily concealed, solid and surprisingly heavy, yet easy to hold and aim. It felt as though it could be an extension of his own arm, more like the hand phasers to which he was accustomed. Holding the gun steadily, Simba faced the target and eased back on the trigger. It pulled back easily, as though the weapon were eagerly waiting to be fired, and the pistol gave off the quiet sound of a burst of air. The computer chimed again, indicating another hit.

"Wow," Simba breathed, marveling at the pistol's surprisingly easy reaction to his gentle movements. This was definitely a more elegant weapon for a stealth mission, and he felt safer just holding it in his hands. The young man sighed, staring at the weapon as he thought back to the briefing a few hours earlier…

Simba sat patiently in the briefing room, watching as his shipmates slowly filtered through S'Van's austere presence and received their assignments for the mission ahead. He had no particular desire to accelerate his encounter with the Commander, so he sat quietly in his chair, hoping to put it off as long as possible. Part of him was still trying to wrap his brain around the briefing they'd all just gone through. A million thoughts were running through his mind at this moment. What was he doing here? What had he done… or rather, what was he about to do on Earth so many hundreds of years in the past? How the hell was he supposed to survive one of the bloodiest periods in the history of his planet? Why hadn't he paid more attention to history when he was in school?

"A pleasure to see you again so soon, Ensign Wekesa." Somehow, S'Van had managed to approach undetected and was standing over him, studying the young officer with his cold stare.

Simba cleared his throat and coughed, stalling as he tried to think of an appropriate response to the Commander's uneasy presence. Pleasure was certainly not the word he would have chosen. He suddenly felt vulnerable, and stood quickly from his chair, bringing himself up to S'Van's level. "Yes, sir," he replied quietly. It was a canned response, but the sooner they could move past the 'pleasantries' and on to the assignment, the better.

"Did you know, Ensign, that according to some historians, as many as half of the French soldiers who landed on D-Day were Africans from the French colonies?"

"No, sir." He felt nervous about where this was going. S'Van seemed somewhat fascinated by the history lesson he was giving, though Simba wished he would just get to the point.

S'Van smiled ever so slightly as he took a PADD off the stack he carried and handed it to Wekesa. "It's true. You are to be Lieutenant Malik Jawara of the Tirailleurs Senegalais. He, or rather you, joined a resistance cell in Dakar, Senegal after General de Gaulle failed to take the colony in Operation Menace in 1940. You earned a commission in the Free French army for extraordinary bravery when the Vichy regime finally lost control of French West Africa in November of 1942. You are particularly skilled in covert operations and resistance organization."

Simba raised an eyebrow as he glanced down at the PADD and listened to S'Van's words. It was a strange feeling to suddenly be placed into another man's life… a man who he had not even heard of until a few seconds earlier. "I am?" Stupid, don't show any hint of doubt!

"Yes, you are," S'Van replied coolly. "The PADD contains a detailed description of your mission and objectives, as well as specific skills and technology with which you are required to become proficient." He paused. "Je crois que vous êtes déjà préparé pour les exigences linguistiques, n'est pas? Your friends may find it… beneficial if you would consider helping them in their studies in this area." S'Van smiled again in his not-at-all pleasant way. "Remember… the details of your assignment are of the utmost importance. Things have already happened in the way that they are about to, and it is your responsibility to ensure that you are not the cause of our future's destruction." S'Van stared at the young officer for a moment, as if driving his words into Simba's skull with his eyes, then nodded briskly and moved on to find another officer.

Simba watched the mysterious man walk away to approach some of the senior officers, then looked down at the PADD and began to read. Apparently, he was to arrive in France via parachute with an unnamed associate from the British S.O.E. and organize a resistance cell in their efforts to halt the movement of a German division into Normandy. Caught up in the flood of information on the PADD, he made his way out the door and walked slowly towards his quarters, reading the details of his role in the upcoming mission as he walked.

Originally Posted by T'Shaini/03-15-2009 08:45:46 PM

USS Chimera
Holodeck 1

"Better." The lean hawkfaced man gave a barely perceptible nod of appreciation. "But had you aimed you elbow towards his throat instead of his nose, you could have crushed his trachea instead of just broken his nose leaving you more time to deal with the second attacker."

"Yes, yes of course." She knew he was right, but T'Shaini had trouble wrapping her brain around the concept he was attempting to beat into her…that the best means of disabling your opponent was to completely incapacitate him, do not knock him down, take him out. It went against everything she practiced, she had worked so hard after…after Vanona and now it seemed as if she were required to step backward. Even her sniper training, though in theory was about achieving a kill shot, the only time she had used it against live…well liveish, opponents was on Halcyon. Here, there was no illusion of distance, she felt the bones break, heard the cries of pain, and felt them pass…even though they were but shadow opponants in a holodeck they were real enough for her to doubt whether she had the strength to do this when the situation would require it…and it would. I must. Running her hands through her hair, she felt her instructors eyes on her, calm and steady. And do so with control.

Holding her hand up to signal she needed some time, the Vulcan walked to the side to wipe the sweat from her face. She had been feverishly acquiring skills for the mission, familiarizing herself with the tech (with Lia's help), as well as extra time on the shooting range with the pistols they were going to be issued, studying the languaage and the life and political environment of that whom she was to be replacing…she had barely slept in her zeal to be as prepared as possible. She was driven…driven by an undercurrent of something it took some time to identify…panic. There was an unspoken knowledge as to the likelyhood of surviving this mission, and though T'Shaini held loosely onto life herself, she could not bear the possibility that it may be Javier, or that Lia, after so much turmoil, would be left alone. So she worked. The counselor in her knew that it was a control issue, the more she felt she had control over her own actions and destiny the more control over the entire situation she felt. It may be misplaced, but it was the only thing she could do. She tossed the towel down and returned to Vegal-Djinn.



Originally Posted by Simba Wekesa/03-18-2009 12:26:35 AM

::USS Chimera::
::Corridor - Deck 3::

"Finn. You look positively… covert."

Harry, approaching the holodeck, just kept his hand from reaching for the holstered punch-dagger hidden beneath the leather jacket he'd been issued. "With respect, sir, sod off," he told S'Van, trying out the dialect which needed to infuse his speech, English and French, on the ground.

"I'll take that in the spirit of getting into character," the Commander replied calmly. "A character you've been avoiding rather longer than is prudent…"

"Had to see to more than just my prep," the XO replied, twitching the jacket further closed. Currently he was bristling with more concealed weapons then were prudent when faced with the temptation presented by the mission Control. Especially when that Control was being shadowed by Kyle Ellison… who favored Harry with a look that was both knowing and understanding. "What's the drill, here?"

"Time for some more in-depth education," he was told. "Your associate, who will take the place of Lt. Malik Jawara, is already inside." If S'Van noticed the brief tightening of Harry's jaw, or it's subsequent relaxing as he heard Jawara's name, he didn't mention it. "As it happens, he is near-fluent in French and you," S'Van's gaze slid sideways, "well, Harry, you are fluent in the language of death."

"I thought we were avoiding an excess body-count…" Finn broke off as the doors slid aside to reveal an as-yet blank slate of a holodeck and the understandably concerned Ensign Wekesa.

"Lieutenant Jawara," S'Van offered grandly, "I would like you to meet Major Colthurst of the Special Operations Executive."

Simba looked up apprehensively from the assortment of vintage equipment he'd been going over in the empty room. S'Van's presence was unnerving to say the least, and the lack of information he was providing about the upcoming mission wasn't helping matters either. Hell, Simba still felt like the new kid on the ship. Even considering all of the things he'd experienced since joining this crew, he barely knew most of them. Part of him felt like he should be manning a console somewhere out of the way, quietly taking orders, not thrown into the center of a mission of this magnitude.

"Sir!" he responded instinctively, more than a little surprised at the sight of the ship's first officer walking into the room. He'd only actually talked to Finn once before, and now he found himself facing the prospect of being paired with the Chimera's second-in-command for an entire mission.

"At ease, Ensign," Finn replied before eying S'Van. Ellison had followed his charge into the room… apparently there was some concern Harry might take another swing at the guy. "Was there anything… specific… you had in mind…?"

S'Van held Harry's gaze but his response was simply, "Computer, activate program S'Van, zero-zero-seven, hold arch." All around the men, the room went from bifurcated cube to dank barn. "This is the closest approximation to your first base of operations just north of Toulouse. I suggest you learn as much about your equipment, environs," he nodded towards the maps spread out over the center of the table, "objectives and.. one another as possible. It seems that Colthurst and Malik had a bit of a history… Malik helped extract Colthurst after his escape from a Gestapo holding facility in '43. Good day…" And so saying, the Commander and his shadow turned exited. As they crossed the threshold of the corridor, the arch disappeared to become the gaping barn door.

Simba watched, relieved, as S'Van finally disappeared from the room. A cloud of apprehension seemed to go with him, and Finn definitely seemed to immediately become more at ease. He looked down at his PADD awkwardly, still unaccustomed to working directly with senior officers, and finally broke the silence. "I've read through everything S'Van provided on this PADD, and it's pretty thorough. I have a mostly-complete service record for Lt. Jawara, and a detailed account of his… or rather, our actions over the next few days. But there isn't a lot here in terms of personal details. I suppose most of it has been lost to the sands of history."

"The good news is, things will go nothing like we expect, records or no records, so broad strokes should get us through," Harry offered a grimace of a smile to the young officer, "the bad news is, things will go nothing like we expect so, first priority is, 'how to stay alive 101'." He lifted a familiar item… no matter how much time had passed, some of the old favorites were still in use, "Know what this is?"

"It's… a wire, sir?" Simba frowned. "I'm sorry, Commander, the technical gadgets I can figure out. Antique weapons and combat have never been my expertise."

"But it was Malik's," Harry pointed out, gesturing for Wekesa to turn around and, once he had, dropping the garrote over the young man's head and tightening it just enough to get his point across, "And I guarantee Lt. Jawara would never leave his back open long enough for someone to do this," he tugged again, slightly, before releasing the wire. "A garrote," he dropped the loop into the ensign's hand, "one of the less noisy ways to dispose of sentries or," a hand reached up to his own neck in memory, "a JAG investigator who got too nosy." Though, in Harry's case, the wire hadn't finished the job.

Wekesa raised an eyebrow at Finn's mention of the JAG investigator, but decided it was best for both of them that he not ask. "Understood, sir." He considered the wire in his hand. It was, certainly, an effective means of dispatching an unsuspecting target quietly and easily. Don't disappoint the first officer, Simba. "You're right, of course. I'll step up my combat training immediately."

"It's less combat and more…" Harry paused, "in this mission… what we're expected to see through… there are going to be fatalities. It's a war and the fuel depot alone will take out dozens of the enemy. But just getting to that depot… just getting to the point where our cell plants the explosives… there are going to be deaths. Deaths that, at some point in some version of history, Jawara and Colthurst owned. You can learn all the combat moves there are and not a one of them will matter a damn if you can't commit to that one final step." He held the young officer's gaze, "I need to know, right now, when it comes to it, are you going to be able to take that step?"

Simba swallowed hard, considering Finn's words. It was clear enough that the Commander wasn't sure that he could rely on him. And why should he, really? Finn didn't know him any better than he knew the first officer. It was an interesting point that Finn had brought up… the people they would have to kill to complete their objectives had already been dead for four hundred years. Their deaths and the circumstances surrounding them were already written into history. Could they really be considered responsible for them, or were they just allowing history to flow as it had before? He paused for a moment before responding deliberately. "Commander Finn, one thing that you should know about me is that, no matter what else happens, I will follow my orders and complete my mission. Whatever happens down there, from what S'Van has said, we have done it before… so we will do it again."

"I guess we will," Harry replied, quietly, wondering if he'd been questioning Wekesa's resolve or his own, just then. Not that it wasn't bad enough… if you've never killed before… but what Colthurst had done… "And, since we will, you'll need to get seriously up to speed on the weaponry here, we both need to learn how to parachute out of a Joe hole in the middle of the night and land without breaking our necks and," he winced, "in case the universal translators kick, I need to achieve some functionality in French…"

"That," Simba replied with a grin, "I can help you with." At least there was something he already knew for this mission. He supposed that was a big part of the reason he had been chosen for this assignment; there couldn't be many French-speaking Africans aboard the Chimera. "How much… functionality… do you have now, sir?"

"C'est combien?"

"Combien de quoi?" Simba raised an eyebrow at Finn's non-sequitor.

Harry favored the upstanding officer with a 'look', "You asked how much functionality I have well… that was it, 'c'est combien'…"

"Alright…" Wekesa looked at him quizically. "So your answer to how much is… how much?"

"Yup," Harry idly tossed a dagger from the table from hand to hand, "I can also ask, 'how much,' in Italian, Spanish, Norwegian, Risian, Orion and Vulcan… though that one never really worked…"

Simba bit his lip and nodded slowly at the Commander. "I wouldn't recommend learning it in German, sir… or asking the Gestapo. Do you think it might be best if work out some kind of agreement… you do the killing, and I'll do the talking?"

A joint post with Commander Harry Finn

Originally Posted by Javier Costala/03-18-2009 11:52:16 PM

-Chief Engineer's Office-
-Deck 12-

"My idea was to use the identification tags or dog tags and disguise the commlinks in those. The beauty of the plan is that the dog tags are made of metal and so are our commbadges. We can change the outer covering." Kal-El took a pair of dog tags from the table, struggled with them for a moment then popped them open to reveal the inner components of a commlink. "At first we didn't think they were big enough to hold the receiver and translation devices then Nastina," Kal-El motioned toward the engineering cadet, "found that the soldiers taped them together so they wouldn't clank against each other.."

"And give away their position to the enemy," Javier inserted as he finished Kowalski's report. He perused the table, looking over the items that the engineers had replicated to resemble everyday objects from Earth's mid 20th century. "And this?" the officer inquired as he picked up a small crucifix.

"Something Fenton put together for Crewman Anderson," Kowalski explained, "it's a translator, we didn't have much space so there's no transponder. Fenton built the translator in the shape then we covered it with silver before tarnishing it."

"Tarnishing it?" The officer frowned then saw the reasoning behind darkening the metal. "So it won't reflect light?"

"No sir, we didn't think of that," PO Jeremy Eight stated as he stepped forward, to the chagrin of Kal-El who referred to the former Borg as the 'robot', but only when Jeremy wasn't present. "I was assured by Chief Kowalski that Terrans of the 20th century coveted material wealth as much as the Borg covet order." A smile fleeted over the younger man's face then was replaced by a serious countenance as Jeremy continued with: "I did not want someone to accost Crewman Anderson for her necklace so I made it look older and less valuable."

"Well done Petty Officer," Javier commended as he gently laid the cross on the table. It was a fragile thing much like the young woman who would be wearing it. Not so fragile, she is a security officer after all. he reminded himself. There were broaches, necklaces and a set of wings on the table. Javier picked up the pilot's wings. "I suppose these are for Lieutenant Stryfe?"

"Yes Chief," Kowalski answered quickly, daring PO Eight to interupt him again. "It has a transponder and a translator, very similar to our own commlinks. I personally made certain it would function under extreme duress."

"Which means he jumped up and down in the turbo-lift, while wearing it," Cadet Pova said in a thick Ukranian before infectious laughter bubbled up and erupted from her mouth.

"As you were Cadet," Javier said as he stifled a chuckle, "I assume you've been working with Cadet Boyce," he said to Nastina Pova. Fenton and BHP were both well known for never allowing Kowalski to feel too self-important. "Chief Kowalski is the project leader on this one and deserves your respect."

"Aye Commander." Nastina stood at attention and cursed herself silently for making what she assumed was a bad impression on the Chief Engineer. "I do respect Chief Kowalski and have learned much under his guidance on this project."

Javier nodded in acknowledgment then returned his attention to the table once more. "What about weapons?"

"Chief? I assumed those on the ground would use weapons of the time period.." Kowalski's voice trailed away into the ether as Javier frowned. "Right, it will leave a large body count."

"Something history cannot afford," Javier added, "We need a weapon that can stun but looks similar to a sidearm of the time period."

"Sir, I don't think we'll have time.." Kal-El started.

"Make time Chief, make time," the Chief Engineer ordered.

Epicenter 1944

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