Mission 1.04 - A Change of Cadence

[XO's Office, USS Normandie]
[1315 Hours]

T'Lani sat down in her chair and activated the small computer set into her desk. The screen rose from the desk top. The screen came to life and T'Lani waited for the General appear on the screen.

"Good afternoon General T'rannus" she said in a formal tone.

"It is good morning on my end Colonel" the older woman smiled, T'Lani had met her on several occasions and they seemed to hit it off, Louise T'rannus was half Romulan and held her father's race in a similar contempt as T'Lani did.

"I apologise Ma'am, I am used to being on Normandie time."

"No need to apologise T'Lani" she said with a smile, "I suppose you are curious as to why I contacted you?"

"I always welcome communications from Corps Commanders" she said with a smile, "But, I am quite curious as to the reason for this call."

"We have been discussing your situation on Normandie, it seems rather unfair to have a Lieutenant Colonel acting as a Troop Commander when you previously commanded a Regiment, and you should focus your attentions on your role as Executive Officer."

"I agree Ma'am, it was originally to be a temporary positions, but with our change of direction to the Mollais Expanse that has seemed to have been placed on hold."

"Yes, these type of situations do seem to arise, that is why I have decided that we will continue with what was previously planned."

"Ma'am?"

"The Sark is now making her way to the border with the Mollais Rihan, onboard is 1st Lieutenant Tyalor Lucas, he will assume the positions of Troop Commander, I have forwarded his service record to your personal database. He was not our first choice for the position, but under your tutelage we are expecting him to flourish."

"Thank you for the vote of confidence Ma'am."

"It is well placed Colonel, you have excelled during your time with the Corps, and you will continue to progress." she paused, "If you will excuse me Colonel, I have a Chiefs of Staff meeting."

"Of course Ma'am." she nodded. The channel died and T'Lani was left alone in her office, she pressed a button and then began the process of opening a channel to the Sark.

After some 10 minutes she was finally connected to the Sark, a Human male appeared on the screen, "Lieutenant Lucas I presume?"

Taylor blinked in puzzlement at the woman on his screen. Puzzlement then annoyance. He instantly mistook T'Lani for a Vulcan. The red eyes caused him to doubt the wild stab in the dark but the ears soon reinforced his first guess.

He didn't have anything against Vulcans but he found their morose tone tiring and borderline demoralising. Now he was going to be serving under one.

Great.

The marine had been shuffled around postings the last few months for 'logistical reasons'. In truth people with higher rank pips than him were tired of getting complaints about his unorthodox manner. You'd think twenty years as a marine would bring some sense to a man.

Instead it only made him bolder. There was no doubting his effectiveness on the field of operations but it was his manner than they found annoying. Luckily for his career prospects T'Lani caught him on one of his good days.

"You presume correct ma'am" he said flatly, not betraying any emotion about the transfer. "I assume there's more to this communication that putting a face to a name."

"Your assumption is misplaced Lieutenant" she said in the clipped tone of an experienced Marine Officer, "I simply wished to introduce myself to you in preparation of your joining my Staff."

Staff. In a military mind such as Taylor's that word signified shiny rank pips and lots of political games, things that he wasn't interested in. He just wanted to lead marines, ignorance is bliss right? Taylor wasn't the one to shy away from responsibility but he preferred being the anonymous marine officer than a face and a name.

"I'm real thrilled, ma'am" responded Taylor, barely hiding the sarcasm in his statement.

T'Lani looked at the man, "A word of advice Lieutenant, if you ever presume to speak to me in a sarcastic manner ever again I shall endeavour to ensure that you spend the rest of your natural life as the sole Sentry at the memorial for the battle of Proxima 8" she said, here eyes flashed bright red for a moment, the battle occurred during the founding of the Federation it was an isolated planetoid some 6 months at full warp from the nearest civilization.

"When you arrive you will have 24 hours to get to grips with your Troop before leading them into a combat trial with our Security Staff. Any questions?"

"Yes ma'am" he said, barely changing his tone. "Is there anything I will be doing other than being a glorified campus guard? Or is it exactly what it says on the tin?"

As an afterthought he added "Colonel." He didn't feel he owed this woman any ounce of respect. Rank. Age. Whatever.

We all have jobs to do, her's is being an arsehole. Apparently she excels at the position.

Personal thoughts aside he wondered what she'd say or if she'd offer another threat. From her manner Taylor guessed she was used to officers at his rank and standing quaking in their boots in her presence.


"Lieutenant, the Normandie is about to enter the Mollais Expanse and Nebula, the largest unexplored region on the cusp of the Alpha and Gamma Quadrants, my people have lived there for 2000 years, only 2 other Federation Starships have entered this area, and they both had escorts of 12 or so Warships from the Mollais Rihan...I hope even a former grunt as yourself will have enough intelligence to work out what that means."

"I don't actually, you'll have to fill me in on the details ma'am" Taylor responded evasively. His ability to appear ever ignorant was one of his few abilities. Being seen as the dumb, lumbering cannon fodder meant people gave away more than they should out of some misguided sense of superior intellect.

"But if I were to guess, even assume that we won't be escorted either means an improvement in mutual diplomatic relations or that the Mollais Rihan are not in a position to offer support and/or escorts."

"If you cannot work it out Lieutenant, I suggest you use your remaining time on board the Sark to carry out research on my people." she looked at him, "Until we meet Lieutenant, good day" she closed the channel.

When the communication ended Taylor was left with a sinking feeling is his gut. "Lovely girl" he said to himself as he rubbed his closed eyelids with two fingers. "Suggestion taking under advisement, god I hope this ship suffers from a warp breach before we get there..."

A JP by the Biatch and the man who's life she is going to make a misery.

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

TO:CADET.TAT.SECTAC@USSNORMANDIE
FROM: XO@USSNORMANDIE
DATE: July 21st, 2386
TIME: 1346
SUB: Command Scenario

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

MESSAGE READS

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

Cadet Tat,

As part of your continuing education and training as an Officer Cadet, you are requested and required to undertake the following Objective Structured Command Examination OSCE. You will be informed of the content of this examination on your arrival at the OSCE examination location.




Yours,

Lt. Colonel T'Lani

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

MESSAGE ENDS

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

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

TO:CADET.KONEV.INTEL@USSNORMANDIE
FROM: XO@USSNORMANDIE
DATE: July 21st, 2386
TIME: 1347
SUB: Command Scenario

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

MESSAGE READS

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

Cadet Konev,

As part of your continuing education and training as an Officer Cadet, you are requested and required to undertake the following Objective Structured Command Examination OSCE. You will be informed of the content of this examination on your arrival at the OSCE examination location.




Yours,

Lt. Colonel T'Lani

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

MESSAGE ENDS

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

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

TO:MAA.SECTAC@USSNORMANDIE, CSO@USSNORMANDIE,CSTO@USSNORMANDIE, CMO@USSNORMANDIE, CIO@USSNORMANDIE
FROM: XO@USSNORMANDIE
DATE: July 21st, 2386
TIME: 1348
SUB: Command Scenario

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

MESSAGE READS

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

Staff,

As part of the continuing education and training of Officer Cadets, you are requested and required to part-take in the following Objective Structured Command Examination OSCE of the Cadet Tat. You will be informed of the content of this examination on your arrival at the OSCE examination location.




Yours,

Lt. Colonel T'Lani

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

MESSAGE ENDS

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

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

TO: CMO@USSNORMANDIE, BIO.SCI@USSNORMANDIE, LIN.SCI@USSNORMANDIE, DC.ENG@USSNORMANDIE, COO@USSNORMANDIE
FROM: XO@USSNORMANDIE
DATE: July 21st, 2386
TIME: 1349
SUB: Command Scenario

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

MESSAGE READS

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

Staff,

As part of the continuing education and training of Officer Cadets, you are requested and required to part-take in the following Objective Structured Command Examination OSCE of the Cadet Konev. You will be informed of the content of this examination on your arrival at the OSCE examination location.




Yours,

Lt. Colonel T'Lani

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

MESSAGE ENDS

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

ON:
[Main Hangar Bay - USS Wanderer]
[21JULY2386 - 0800 Hours]

Cadet Luna Konev rubbed her eyes wearily. Looking at the data logs of the Wanderer would take some time. Sipping at her hot tea, she prodded her display screen bringing up an odd conversation between some religious folks and Doctor Autumn Holmes.

"Hey, Doc Valentine." The Orion Cadet called over her shoulder. "Take a look at this."

Damien approached Luna from behind, holding a PADD in his right hand.

Inside of his mind, Damien had wondered exactly what had happened, what he was to uncover along with Luna. He had read the entire report. A female monk had been doing something with a console for some time and had appeared to be in some kind of trance...

"And then the explosion..." Damien had thought out loud, "The Katricia woman had been doing something to the console for quite some time."

Damien put his hand up to his chin, to rest his head as he thought.

"I doubt that a monk would know anything extensive about chronitons or starship consoles," Damien spoke through his frustration over the situation, "I am drawing a blank..."

"Well, if these time tags are correct, the explosion of chronitons and heavily excited neutrinos begin to correlate with these..." Luna stretched over the desk and prodded the screen of another display, "odd little set of gravitational anomalies. Match it up against Fedorov's simulation and send it up to her ASAP, regardless of the end result."

"Right." the linguistics officer spoke steadily and with a half smile, "Consider it done!"

"You know, I think she's already expecting these results." The Orion mused, leaning back into her chair and rubbing her chin. "She told me exactly where I would find the data and it roughly fit the parameters she was expecting. I think Babushka Virkova hit a gold mine in Miss Fedorov. This isn't the kind of stuff we take in basic Astrophysics, this is Grade-A Spock and Data kind of nonsense."

Leaning further back and into the broad chest of Doctor Valentine, she reached over her shoulder to pat his cheek playfully.

"Looks like you've got quite a monster of a Chief in your Department." Luna teased. "I hope you can keep up with her."

"Well, I'd like to think I'll have no problem," Damien began, "but so far I feel like such a novice at everything..."

Damien laughed lightly as he shook his head from side to side. Damien looked down at the seated Luna with a piercing glare.

"You know what I mean, Cadet?" the half-Betazoid spoke swiftly, as though he knew that Luna knew exactly what he meant.

Without a word, she answered with just a whimsical hum. Standing out of her chair, she collected data back into her PADD and tapped her chin thoughtfully. Just about to leave, she just patted the scientist's shoulder.

"You'll do fine. I'm actually, if you pardon the pun, more green than you are at the moment as far as Starfleet goes." Luna remarked. "I've got a psych test to attend. I'll be seeing you around, Doc."

As she left, a ghost of a smile touched her lips. She was sure the good Doctor would do well on the Normandie. The mystery of the Wanderer would be revealed soon enough, Elena was right, there was sabotage involved and it was of a power higher than they had the concept of. Very soon, Luna was going to have to investigate this religious order who could play upon the heartstrings of the cosmos.

OFF: A joint post brought to you by...

Cadet Luna Konev
Intelligence Operations

Ensign Damien Valentine Ph.D
Xenolinguist, Science Officer

ON:

[On the way to Science Lab 1, USS Normandie]
[July 21st, 2386 - 0710 hours]

The normal frequency of Garrett’s long stride was decreased to match the pace set by his new supervisor. Most people didn’t move as quickly as he, and the slightly shorter Lieutenant Fedorov was no exception, but the slowed rate of travel toward Lab One gave Garrett extra time to observe and familiarize himself with his still-completely-new surroundings. It was, after all, his first tenure on a starship, much less one as impressive as the Normandie.

“Deck five, please,” he rumbled as Fedorov led him into the turbolift. So how about this Lieutenant Fedorov? The name and accent place her as European Russian, or maybe Ukrainian.

Not that it mattered. He was here to work and make a good first impression, not make small talk, particularly not with a superior officer he happened to directly report to. There would be time for that later… but still, trying to learn at least a little about a new boss couldn’t harm his respectful distance from an authority figure, could it? He watched her from the corner of his eye.

Nahhhh, she looks harmless enough. Break the ice already.

"So, Lieutenant," he inquired, turning his gaze on her, "what's your area of expertise? Got any interesting research going on aside from our current problem?"

The tentative of Garrett for small conversation was so clear, that she was almost ashamed to not have prepared a well thought response in advance. Rides in turbolifts were sort of uncomfortable by definition, but evidently, when riding as Department Head was slightly worse.

"At the Academy I majored in Astrophysics, with a Minor in Particle Physics," she answered sounding more technical and detached that she had really intended. "I've started my career in Starfleet in that field, but I have to confess, being a Department Head is a position open to a lot of fields, and it's forcing me every day to explore."

She looked over to him, and cracked a smile just as the doors parted open and they exited in the corridor of Deck 5. Science Lab 1 was just around the corner, and was waiting for them completely empty, as it wasn't in use during the first half of Alpha shift.

Elena gestured for him to enter first. "I make amend, but I haven't reviewed your file just yet, what is your field of expertise, Lieutenant?"

“My master’s is in marine biology. That aside, I spent the better part of my Academy years around the pre-med students, learning a lot of anatomy and physiology.” Garrett, now inside the lab, made a quick visual survey of the area. Either Gamma shift hadn’t touched it or they’d left no messes behind. Both were good lab etiquette. “I guess it’s fair to say we’ll both be forced to explore new fields if you’re a physicist and I’m a professional kelp-hugger.”

Explore. Exciting word. Garrett’s mind returned to the problem at hand as he approached one of the lab’s computer consoles, mentally reviewing parameter syntax for physics experiments.

“Well, Boss, you’re the only physics expert in the room. Let me know what you need done for these simulations.”

"We should start with refining the parameters of the simulations I ran before getting my hands dirty on the Wanderer," Elena said taking her seat in front of a console. "Once we have good starting parameters, then we might get some useful results out of them. Run yours specifically on the decay rate in heavy particles on the outer hull, I'll focus on the more intricate one, dealing with the subatomic signature of the ship."

“You got it.” Garrett’s fingers began to move on the console. “You know, Lieutenant, one of the things I like about being a biologist is that I usually work with entities I can directly observe and test, but this situation doesn’t seem usual to me.” He paused for a moment to give shape to his thoughts. “You called what brought the Wanderer here ‘sabotage,’ but I can’t think of very many life forms that are capable of flat-out breaking the laws of space/time. And you think there’s an intelligence behind all this?”

Elena raised her eyes to look at Garrett. "There is a clear pattern in all the clues we have so far. Positrons and chronitons concentrations are carefully adjusted, and so is the decaying rate in the tachyons. It's not that I don't believe in Nature refined way of doing things, but to the eyes of a physicist, that suggests an artificial origin. Yet, you're right. With the exception of a Q, and probably the Husnock, there is nothing in Starfleet record about anyone able of such a feat."

Her fingers, even when she wasn't looking down at them, kept moving on the control of her console, putting the finishing touches to the simulation before starting it.

"Let's see where this takes us," she said before finally launching it.

"Whatever the results, this is going to make for an interesting report, especially when co-signed by a Biologist and a Xenolinguistic." Elena commented hinting at both Garrett and Ensign Valentine. "What have you got there so far, any theory of what could have generated that paricles field geometry?"

“Half a moment, if you will, Lieutenant…” his low voice trailed off as he centered his focus on the console’s output monitor. Ears pricked, stare rapt, he was hunting. All details were of import. Vital data could be hiding in the most insignificant-seeming minutia...

The Wanderer’s silhouette lazily moved across the starry background of the simulation, different types of heavy particle represented by colored halos around the outer hull. Each halo’s magnitude held predictably, indicating standard decay rates. Nucleons, hyperons, and baryons waltzed with each other through the void in a manner that suggested nothing out of the ordinary as the tiny vessel swam in simulated space. With a short computerized chirp, the simulation ended, placing the Wanderer inexplicably within sensor range of the Normandie.

His brow knitted. No starship he knew of had ever mysteriously teleported across that kind of distance because nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.

Maybe it just doesn't have anything to do with heavy particle decay rates.

He stroked his chin and directed his stare nowhere in particular, cogitating. We're going off the Wanderer's sensor logs for the initial levels. But what if...?

The thought coalesced in his mind from nowhere. His lips opened slightly to allow the sudden, involuntary intake of breath. Eyes wide, guitarists’ fingers moving at a frenzied pace on the console, he altered the starting parameters of his simulation and initialized, watching with even greater interest than before.

Again, the Wanderer’s silhouette ambled through the blackness, surrounded by coloured halos which held their magnitude. This time, however, just before the teleport event occurred, all the coloured halos abruptly bloomed to nearly three times their original reach, indicating a greatly accelerated rate of decay.

Garrett grinned broadly, restraining his urge to yell and pump a fist in the air. Now, there's a start. A scientific question was a scientific question, whether in his field or not, and picking up the scent of a possible explanation had never yet failed to invigorate him. He cleared his throat and looked at Fedorov.

“Ma’am, I’m no atomic physicist, but I’ve got something I think you might like to see whenever you’re ready.”

Lieutenant Fedorov stood up from her console, and walked at Lieutenant Garrett's side. "Found something interesting?" She inquired slightly puzzled by the settings of the simulation on the screen.

“Observe.” Garrett initiated the simulation at a time index just a few moments before the teleport event. Energy had crept into his normally-level voice and he had begun to speak with his hands. “When I used the Wanderer’s sensor readings to set the simulation’s initial heavy particle levels, it got me nowhere. Watch what happens when I change them just a hair.”

The bloom occurred again, as before.

“See that? If you put them all in just the right proportions at the start of the simulation, their decay rate spontaneously goes through the roof! If we assume the Wanderer’s crew is competent, I think it’s a good bet their sensors were missing something, and misreporting the proportions of heavy particles.”

He paused for a breath, and then continued.

“Certain kinds of radiation passing through the hull could cause that sort of alteration of the heavy particle ratios, yes? And some radiation types are rare enough that Starfleet sensors aren’t usually calibrated to detect them. If one or more of those types were present in sufficient quantity and the sensors didn’t detect them, the Wanderer’s computer would have miscalculated the ratios. Insufficient data,” Garrett chuckled. “I don’t know physics the way you do, but if I’m right and the ratios were altered enough to spike the decay rates, could that explain your field geometry?”

His eyes twinkled. “And on the off-chance that a biologist playing at being a physicist had a good idea, I bet we’d both like to know what kinds of radiation Arbre’s sun is known to emit.”

"Oh, but we do," Elena said reaching over his shoulder to open up a schematics of the star emission on the screen close to his. "And none of the usual recorded emissions can explain this. Also, if your assumption is correct, and I believe it just might be, that initial balance is way too precise and tailored to be a Natural coincidence."

She walked back at her seat, her breath accelerating as the growing conscience of a very close discovery was filling her mind. "This has to have been the doing of an intelligent of some kind!" She almost shouted. "There is no way that kind of field could generate itself without someone modelling it and placing it so carefully around the Wanderer. It must have had something to do with the Monks. We might still don't know exactly how they did it, but they are our number one suspects."

Looking over at Lieutenant Garrett, she cracked a very nervous grin. "Don't you love the feeling of knowing you're onto something so powerful that it can move starships around?"

:OFF

a JP brought to you by:
Lieutenant J.G. Gerard Alan Garrett
Biologist, USS Normandie

&

ON:
[Main Sickbay, USS Normandie]
[21 July, 2386 - 1845 hours]

The clean uniform was itchy. Maybe.
Or maybe it was just feeling itchy because she was nervous. There was something she liked less than scary Romulan Executive Officers with red eyes: having someone poking at her body with a medical tricorder's probe.

As the door to Sickbay approached at the end of the corridor she was walking down, she briefly considered turning around and heading back to the Science lab. Elena hadn't met the new Chief Medical Officer yet, but that wasn't of any comfort. Doctors were all the same.

The doors parted, revealing the big main room of the Normandie main sickbay. She peaked in with just her head first, again considering a hasty retreat, but failed to notice someone just behind the corner.

Elena awkwardly advanced, doors closing behind her. "Hello Doctor," she said advancing slowly. "Lieutenant Elena Nikolaevna Fedorov, Chief Science Officer. I've received your reminder about Department Heads physicals. I could come back another time if you're very busy now."

Magnus looked up from a dozen little containers with some type of dark soil in them on his desk. He instantly put his natural smile on. He could sense the Lieutenant's apprehension, years of being a doctor he had seen that look many times.

"I'm never too busy to say 'hello'" he replied as he stood up and pulled his tricorder from his belt side, "We may be the only two red-heads on the Normandie, we should start a club. Please don't worry, this doesn't hurt a bit. I'm not a poking prodding doctor, I prefer people to want to come to Sickbay not run from it like a plague, which in the event of you would have to still report here." he chuckled lightly, trying to make Fedorov feel more comfortable. "Please, just call me Magnus. Now if you ready oysters dear, we can begin to feed"

He held his intrument up and looked at Elena with a questioning look, waiting for her ok.

"You all say that." The look on Dr. Evincrue's face told her that her comment needed some explaining. "I meant, that all you doctors always say you're not of the 'prodding type', but then, end up prodding and poking anyway." She explained, sitting down on the nearest biobed and nodding for the Doctor she was ready for the exam to start.

"I will not hide the fact that I considered going AWOL on you, Doctor," Elena then continued, "but I've been told you were of the persisting kind as well..."

He opened his tricorder and pointed it at Elena looking down at the information. "No worries, this will simply take the information already in the databanks and correlate it with the readings now for any anomalies. We just want to make sure everyone is still in good health." he closed the tricorder as he spoke. "You are right too, any reason to get me running around the ship. If I'm not in Sickbay that's a good thing, because it means no one needs my attention."

He leaned on the archway to his office facing the Lieutenant. He slid his tricorder back to his side and grinned his mad smile again. "Now your heart rate is slightly above normal, but that is most likely from being nervous. Please allow each of your crew time to report for there physicals as well if any have not already done so. I have a wonderful staff here that will make it as quick as possible. I only requested the senior staff report to me so that I could meet them for the first time. There you have it! No poking, I have had some of my more scientific friends tweak my tricorder, it's diffrent from a normal standard issue one and allows me to make just as accurate inqueries without the need to be as invasive. It was very nice to meet you Lieutenant. Oh wait!" ,he exclaimed.

He walked to a replicator with his back turned and muttered something quietly. Then he turned back to Fedorov and held out his hand. "Here is a lollipop, I realize your not a child, but all the same. Don't be afraid to ever come to my door. I'm hear to help everyone on board, I'm also here to listen if you need an ear. Is there anything else you need or would like to discuss?"

Elena burst in a small laugh, and extended her hand to get the lollipop. "This could be considered bribing of a fellow officer, and if reported, might end up staining your curriculum forever, Doctor." She said with a smile, slipping it into one of her pocket. "I'm glad to know I seem to be all right, and I'm glad for your 'special' bed manners. It seems I can strike off seeing the doctor from the list of things that make me nervous for my new assignment."

She jumped off the table and adjusted her uniform jacket, sensibly less itchy that it had been before entering Sickbay.

"Thank you for your kindness, I will notify my Department personnel to report here in the next days for their check-ups. I guess I'll see you around, maybe in the Starlight Lounge next time?"

He nodded to the young one, "Most definitely, there's a party later I believe. Do hurry on getting the personnel up here. I have a wicked witch wanting my report, something tells me not to make her mad either. Have a wonderful evening Lieutenant."

:OFF

a JP brought to you by:
Lieutenant Commander Dr. Magnus Evincrue
Chief Medical Officer, USS Normandie

&

[Bridge, USS Normandie]
[July 21, 2386, 1400]

A yellow light flashed on the main operations console, indicating a power and life support failure in one of the secondary cargo bays. The cadet manning the ops station glanced down in surprise. “Ma’am?” he said over his shoulder to Colonel T’Lani. “I think you should take a look at this...”

T’Lani had just arrived on he Bridge when the Cadet spoke, she moved with a firm step as she moved towards the Ops terminal, “What is it, Cadet?” she said as she looked over his shoulder. She saw the readings and tapped her combadge. =/\= T’Lani to Lieutenants Retol and Sepeth. =/\=

Lt. Sepeth was standing in the darkened cargo bay, engrossed in preliminary calculations from the data they’d collected in the SARAH experiment. Ayan flinched and looked over at the Vulcan in the darkness before he tapped his communicator. =/\= Retol here.=/\=

=/\= Would you care to explain what has happened? =/\=

Sepeth touched his commbadge and reported in. =/\= We have just concluded our first iteration of the avatar hologram experiment. It appears that the backup generators here in the auxilliary cargo storage bay have failed. =/\=

Ayan spoke up. =/\= We believe we may have found one of the issues in the holographic power drain, Ma’am. It required seeing the limits of the holoemitter and generator pair in this room while it was independent from the ship. The final set of avatars caused a power surge that overwhelmed the emitter. This outcome was why we decided to run the cargo bay on its internal power rather than the main power grid.=/\=

The engineer chimed in again. =/\= Our findings also indicate that the first hologram in the room expends more energy than subsequent avatars, due to the activation power required to initialize the holoemitters. This pattern holds steady until the power spike that Lt. Retol has just mentioned. =/\=

Ayan looked over at Sepeth and pulled a face, hoping what he was about to say was the truth, although his tone remained confident. =/\= We should have it back on-line momentarily. =/\=

The Vulcan looked back at his colleague in the dim light of the tricorder and cocked a dubious eyebrow as T’Lani’s voice came back over the comm channel. =/\= You will have full power restored to that area within ten minutes. Understood? =/\=

Sepeth remained silent for a long beat as he mentally calculated the time it would take, before responding, =/\= Understood, Lieutenant Colonel. However, we will have to keep the cargo bay disconnected from the main power grid for our next iteration of the experiment. =/\=

[Bridge, USS Normandie]
[July 21, 2386, 1400]

A yellow light flashed on the main operations console, indicating a power and life support failure in one of the secondary cargo bays. The cadet manning the ops station glanced down in surprise. “Ma’am?” he said over his shoulder to Colonel T’Lani. “I think you should take a look at this...”

T’Lani had just arrived on he Bridge when the Cadet spoke, she moved with a firm step as she moved towards the Ops terminal, “What is it, Cadet?” she said as she looked over his shoulder. She saw the readings and tapped her combadge. =/\= T’Lani to Lieutenants Retol and Sepeth. =/\=

Lt. Sepeth was standing in the darkened cargo bay, engrossed in preliminary calculations from the data they’d collected in the SARAH experiment. Ayan flinched and looked over at the Vulcan in the darkness before he tapped his communicator. =/\= Retol here.=/\=

=/\= Would you care to explain what has happened? =/\=

Sepeth touched his commbadge and reported in. =/\= We have just concluded our first iteration of the avatar hologram experiment. It appears that the backup generators here in the auxilliary cargo storage bay have failed. =/\=

Ayan spoke up. =/\= We believe we may have found one of the issues in the holographic power drain, Ma’am. It required seeing the limits of the holoemitter and generator pair in this room while it was independent from the ship. The final set of avatars caused a power surge that overwhelmed the emitter. This outcome was why we decided to run the cargo bay on its internal power rather than the main power grid.=/\=

The engineer chimed in again. =/\= Our findings also indicate that the first hologram in the room expends more energy than subsequent avatars, due to the activation power required to initialize the holoemitters. This pattern holds steady until the power spike that Lt. Retol has just mentioned. =/\=

Ayan looked over at Sepeth and pulled a face, hoping what he was about to say was the truth, although his tone remained confident. =/\= We should have it back on-line momentarily. =/\=

The Vulcan looked back at his colleague in the dim light of the tricorder and cocked a dubious eyebrow as T’Lani’s voice came back over the comm channel. =/\= You will have full power restored to that area within ten minutes. Understood? =/\=

Sepeth remained silent for a long beat as he mentally calculated the time it would take, before responding, =/\= Understood, Lieutenant Colonel. However, we will have to keep the cargo bay disconnected from the main power grid for our next iteration of the experiment. =/\=

T’Lani ran her fingers through her hair, =/\=Negative Lieutenants. I think you have had enough fun for today. Send me your data, and I will decide when you may continue with your next experiment. T’Lani out. =/\=

((A joint post by Ayan, T'Lani and Sepeth))

[Bridge, USS Normandie]
[July 21, 2386, 1600 hours]

Virkov strode from her Ready Room, relieving the junior officer sitting center seat. As she sat, she pulled up her command console, going over the orders she'd received a final time, before nodding.

"Helm, adjust course and to intercept with the Endeavour, Warp 8. We mustn't keep either the Admiral nor Doctor Holmes waiting."

"Aye sir, course and speed adjusted," the reply came.

Virkov smiled softly to herself at the smooth efficiency of the Bridge. With any luck, she would have a group of freshly inducted young cadets to man the stations soon.

With a soft sigh, she pulled out her PADD, and began to review the reports of the day.

July 22nd, 0800HRS
Sickbay, USS Normandie

It's not as if Doctor Listener didn't have enough time to analyze me himself all the way here, Garrett griped to himself as he strode through the doors of the Normandie's main sickbay. It had been a long shuttle flight to the Normandie, in close quarters with Commander Evincrue all the way, and yet the Doctor wanted a physical exam? Not that Evincrue's company had been unpleasant, but...

I'm a biologist, for God's sake. I know when my health is perfect and when it's not. All right, let's get this over with.

Magnus saw Mr. Garrett walking through the doors with a determined look on his face. The Doctor quickly stood up and took his tricorder from his side. He did not feel the need to shake hands and greet himself as he had done with the others considering that he spent so much time with him recently anyway.

"Sorry we have to meet again so soon. If I had known my first duty on the ship was to perform a mass physical, I would have already logged yours while we were on the shuttle. The Captain just wants to make sure with all of the flux of people coming in and leaving the ship, and with the previous mission, that everyone is healthy enough for our next adventure." Magnus explained. He could feel the frustration in Garrett and he was sympathetic. Evincrue himself felt like he was forced upon the crew with this task, instead of getting to know them.

"Well if your ready, this won't take very long, since your data isn't already in the Normandie records, I just need to check your vitals, and store them." he explained as he opened his tricorder.

Garrett's mood softened in the face of Dr. Evincrue's bedside manner. "You don't need to be sorry, sir," he replied, scratching an itch on the side of his head through his close-cropped hair. "You're just doing your job. I know those zoonotic bugs can be a nightmare to track down." He passively submitted to the doctor's tricorder scan.

Magnus began his scan, thankful he could calm Gerad down abit. A lot of his physicals today showed high blood pressure and stress on the crew. "So how have you been getting along so far? It's been a mad house in Sickbay today. Updating personnel files, performing physicals, coordinating the nursing team, and still introducing myself to every one." he paused and looked up for a moment, "ah remember the days when I just had to worry about someone getting the flu." he chuckled lightly and went back to his scan.

"Gee, Doctor, one might think heading one's own department wasn't any fun at all," Garrett jabbed playfully. "And you know, the flu used to be a recurring pandemic on Earth a few centuries ago, probably around the time you were finishing your residency."

His sense of humor occasionally surfaced around superior officers when he felt enough at ease, and Doctor Evincrue was virtually the only person on the Normandie he'd spent any length of time around. He just hoped the much, much older physician didn't take his flippancy as a sign of disrespect.

"So, sir, do I pass the physical? Am I still part Steller's sea cow?"

The Doctor closed his tricorder and laughed full heartledly. "You indeed stil are. I assumed you were in top health, but if it's not on paper in Starfeet, it didn't happen. I remember the flu epidemic well, not that well. It was much longer before I was graced to come to Earth for the first time. Though the practice of medicine at that time was still quite barbaric. Thank you for coming up here on your own instead of me chasing you down. Before you leave sir might I bend your ear and mind for a moment. So you a Biologist correct. I'm trying my hand at something I've never really tried before, but I would love a expert opinion. Are you familiar with floral life of various planets?"

He set his tricorder back on his side and moved over to his desk where a dozen of capsules of dirt could be seen. He hoped that of anyone on the ship that could help him with this endevour, it would be Gerard.

I'll be damned, thought Garrett bemusedly. He gardens. Are those for pharmaceuticals, maybe? He'd entered Sickbay irritated with this bureaucratically-necessitated waste of his time, and now, Dr. Evincrue was thoughtfully about to present him with the gift of a biology problem. If only all wastes of his time ended this productively. Evincrue's soil capsules would be the first time he'd been able to apply his expertise to anything since he'd gotten his orders to report to the Normandie.

"Sure. I know at least a little about most documented floral taxa." He gestured to Evincrue's soil capsules. "And if those are for horticulture, I'd say you're off to a great start. What are we growing?"

Magnus rubbed his hands together with joy as if he were about to give a great demonstration.

"See as a gift to some of the crew members I have met and have been helpful. I have planted flowers from each of there homeworlds, yet here is the problem and the fun. For some of our... dual lifeforms, I am trying to find a way to combine the two. Like for example, half betazoid and human, in this capsule, " the Doctor pointed to container on the end of his desk, "I have spliced the DNA of a Earth rose and a Betazoid tulip, as there structre is similar. This other one beside is a mix of a Betazoid lily and a Vulcan lily. I'm not sure if I have mixed the biologies correctly or what I need to do to maintain the cohesivness of them."

He seemed satisfied and as if he were playing a card game with a friend. He pulled his tricorder from his side, flipped the top and hit a few buttons. Then leaned it over towards Garrett's direction. "If you would like to look at there physiology and give me your input I would be most greatful. If I can be successful with combining these flowers, then perhaps I can begin mixing other plants from diffrent planets that have medicinal values. Obtaining herbs to enhance there healing attributes." he explained.

“Sure, I’ll take a look.” Garrett accepted the tricorder and looked over its output readings, giving a grunt and a nod.

“Vascularization, mesophyll development, nutrient utilization… everything seems OK to me so far. But these are only seedlings. I can only speculate as to what their adult physiology will look like, so don’t expect clairvoyancy. For the plants with Vulcan genes, you might want to consider treating with ethylene or some other growth hormone so that you’re not waiting so long for blossoms. Betazoid flowers evolved to be a little light-sensitive. I’d recommend that you give those direct lighting for no more than 6 hours a day, or the leaves might turn a magnificent red-purple color while the plant dies.”

He looked at Evincrue with eagerness. “I’ve never been a gardener, but if you don’t mind, sir, I’d like to be kept abreast of further developments as these little guys grow up. I’d be glad to help you refine them further if the first generation doesn’t meet your expectations.”

He flashed his teeth. “If you get a really interesting cultivar, I might even name it after you.”

"Wonderful, and thank you for your input," Magnus replied. "Now I can make the appropriate adjustments to them. To have something named after me, I can tell your grandchildren about how you were there, when I messed with nature and won."

He laughed and took his tricorder back from the biologist. "I think I'll see if I can find a better place for them, perhaps my quarters as I never use them at all. It was about time I picked up a new hobby anyway. Two hundred years of learning games, and three of literature, it's about time I added something else to my list of talents. I'm glad you came here to Sickbay against your will."

He smiled and began moving the pods to a long shelf behind his desk, dimming the lights over some and raising it above others.

"Likewise, Doctor. Hopefully, I won't be back here against my will anytime soon." Satisfied, Garrett strode out of Sickbay, leaving Evincrue to tend his project.

Nice guy. I hope gardening works out for him. As long as I have anything to say about it, those flowers will grow big and strong.

He whistled merrily as his stride carried him onward, toward the morning's next engagment.

[Hayley's Quarters, Deck 6, USS Normandie]
[21 July, 2386 CE]
[1830 Hours]

As she returned to her quarters, it occurred to Hayley that mixing alcohol with the sleeping medication she'd been administered in sickbay might not have been the best idea. She'd been told that she would have a few hours before the Somnamide hypospray became active, and even though it was barely evening, her body's need for a good night's sleep was starting to make its presence known.

She arrived at her quarters in one piece, activated the door locks behind her, and immediately crossed to the large mirror on her dresser. She lowered her hood, leaned in close and took a good look at herself.

The dark circles under her eyes were back, and her hair was in desperate need of some attention. She took notice of her slightly crooked nose, and she pushed it in the opposite direction with her finger as though it would stick there in the proper midline position. She sighed and turned around, leaning back against the dresser with the heels of her hands. Firs' things first, she thought.

Hayley took off her shoes and tossed them unceremoniously into the corner. She pulled her sweatshirt up over her head and threw it similarly on the bed. Lastly, she tugged on the bow in the drawstring of her soft cotton pants until it came undone and they fell to the floor. Stepping out of the pants with one foot, she kicked them up on top of the hoodie with the other. Self-consciously crossing her arms protectively in front of her even though no one was watching, she slid open the translucent door to the bathroom area. Exhausted, she dimmed the lights and ran a hot bath in the tub.

---

Hayley dried off with a soft terrycloth towel, which she then wrapped around herself as she wandered into the walk-in closet area. She didn't bother with the lights, because the closet was mostly empty; the only clothes that she'd brought with her had fit in a single duffel bag. She unzipped the bag and pulled out some grey flannel pajamas, which she put on.

She was about to head out to the main room for some sleep when she noticed something by the door of the closet, tucked into the corner. Dumbfounded, she crouched down and reached for it, but then drew back, almost as though she were afraid to touch it.

Inexplicably, Hayley's old, red, banged-up toolbox had been deposited in her closet.

"Where in the Sam Hill did this come from?" she wondered aloud.

"I brought it here for you, Hayley."

With a start, the engineer wheeled around to face the voice that came from behind her, further into the closet. The lights were still dimmed from her bath, and the sleeping medicine had definitely caught up with her. She squinted into the dark to make out the apparition, and to her surprise, she saw the shade of a thin blonde woman standing before her in a white duty uniform.

"Is it... is that you, Sarah?" Hayley asked, unsure whether sleep deprivation was causing her to hallucinate.

"That's right, Hayley," the hologram responded, speaking softly in response to the low light levels in the room. "Yesterday you gave me a present, and when I incorporated your friend Wendy into my database, I learned that you had left your toolbox in a footlocker in the bunkroom. You told me that you were worried that the ship was going to be dismantled, so I found the toolbox and brought it to your quarters, Hayley."

If she weren't so fatigued, the sleepy redhead might have tackled SARAH and given her a big kiss. Instead, she slowly rose to her feet and walked over, taking both of SARAH's hands in her own.

"Thank you, Sarah..." she said, barely able to keep her eyes open. "I forgot all about that ol' thing..." She suppressed a yawn. "An' it prolly woulda got lost in the shuffle if you hadn' swiped it." Hayley squeezed SARAH's hands, with a dazed smile on her face. "Say," she added as an afterthought, "you ever given anybody a present before?"

SARAH cocked her head slightly and accessed her memory banks before responding, "I am uncertain. The answer depends on what you mean by 'present'. Please clarify."

Hayley tipped her head back and laughed feebly. "Well, it was a lovely present. Thank you." With a smile, she gave the hologram's hands one last squeeze and then broke away, turning to trudge to bed.

"Good night, Hayley," said SARAH, as she vanished from sight.

Hayley turned the corner and collapsed onto the pile of clothes atop the bed. Maybe she had already fallen asleep, or maybe she was just on the verge--in any case, she had just enough energy to mumble a barely-audible reply into her pillowcase.

"G'night, Sandy."

[Holodeck 1, USS Normandie]
[July 22, 2386, 0630]

T'Lani walked into the Holodeck and was greeted with the faces of the crewmembers she had requested to attend. She waited as the doors closed behind her, "Good morning, and thank you for coming." she said, removing her beret and placing it into her pocket, she then tucked her swagger stick under her arm, "As my message said, we are going to carry out an OSCE for Cadet Tat." she paused, each of the officers would remember their own OSCE's as some of the hardest times of their lives. It made the psych test for joining the Academy seem like an easy option.

"This is a simple command experience exercise, each of you will man a station while the programme plays out. Cadrt Tat will be in command, and you are to follow his orders." She looked at them, "Any questions?"

Magnus looked around and saw the blank looks on the officers around him. As much as he believed T'Lani didn't like him at all, he also did not want her to stand there and feel ignored. So against his better judgement, which was telling him for the first time in his life to be quiet, he stood up.

"Yes, will all of the OSCE'S being performed take place within the same relative time so that our stations won't be left to there own devices for so long?"

It may have been a dumb question, but at least it was a crescendo to break the silence.

"I think you may be somewhat confused Commander, the majority of staff will only be involved in one Cadet's OSCE, I felt that as the two Cadets undergoing theirs today were our most promising they would warrant the involvement of our senior officers." She looked at the man who had the previous day offended her, "That is all but you Commander, I felt your extensive life experience would be beneficial to both Cadets undergoing an OSCE so you have been assigned to both of todays sessions, but fear not I have rescheduled all your appointments for another Medic" she looked direclty at him and her red eyes flashed ominously. She looked around, "I have selected the environment for this OSCE it shall be the Normandie bridge."

Julian glanced sidelong at the doctor, and turned his gaze directly to T'Lani.

"Colonel T'Lani ma'am, so that I am not mistaken, I would like clarification. We are to presume for the purpose of this mission that Cadet Tat is our superior officer, and take any and all orders directly from her regardless of the nature of said order, correct?"

"I am pleased to see someone recalls their time on their Cadet Cruise and their OSCE's but it would be a waste of time and resources to perform such an examination without the Cadet being in Command. You may offer suggestions as is your job as a bridge officer, but the final decision rests with the Cadet and you are to complete their orders to the letter."

She was pleased at least on of her officers had a gram of gumption.

Adam took the briefing in quietly, nodding as the XO ran the group through the exercise.

"Where would you like us stationed?" he asked once Julian's question had been attended to. This was his first OSCE as an officer - it would be interesting to experience from the other side of the fence.
T'Lani looked at the officers, " Mister Durand the tactical station." she nodded at him, "Miss Federov if you would take Science. Petty Smyth, you will be manning Operations. Mister Carter, Helm if you would be so kind" she then turned to face the CMO, "And you Dr Evincrue shall fill the role of the Executive Officer." she started at them and then spoke again, "Computer please activate Programme T'Lani OSCE 32."

The room suddenly change to the bridge of the Normandie, "You're stations if you would..." she watched as they took their positions. "Computer populate vacant stations." The bridge was suddenly filled with holographic crew members, "Are there any further questions before I bring in the Acting Captain?"

Corbet took her place at ops and rolled her eyes.

"Yes sir, what skill level am to to portray? Highly skilled? Fresh out of basic? Somewhere in the middle?"

"I shall leave that to your discretion" she said with a slight bow of her head.

Elena smelled a trick just there, in the non-answer of the Executive Officer, and while she adjusted her console to suit her, she took a nervous look around the holodeck.

Colonel T'Lani was enjoying this way too much, even for a Romulan. Somehow, she thought, this wasn't going to be just about Cadet Tat.

The red eyed Marine seemed satisfied with all the people at their respective posts, and headed for the door to fetch Tat. Elena tried hard to clear her mind from the memory of her own OSCE, to relax as much as possible.

A JP By;

Lt. Col T'Lani
Lt.Cdr Evincrue
Lt. Julian Durand
Lt. Fedorov
Ensign Carter
PO1 Smyth

ON:
[USS Normandie - Deck 6]
[Cadet Konev‘s Quarters]
[22JUL2386 CE - 0630 Hours]


The young Orion woman woke to the sound of her chronometer chirping its duty. Covering her head with a pillow, she groaned in defiance of the upcoming day and the OSCE. The effects of the synthenol last night was already out of her system, the ephemeral giddiness of the falsified drink was relatively easy to shake off for a person who was used to the real thing, but then, the scientists had designed it with that in mind. Grumpily sighing, she uncovered her face and threw her cinnamon brown plush Beanie Bunny at the display screen and muting the alarm. Laying in her bed, she stared at her ceiling and went through last night's memories.

The farewell party had gone relatively well. Doctor Holmes and the rest seemed to enjoy the kind-hearted festivities orchestrated by the gregarious Miss Atani. The Wanderer crew seemed to acclimate themselves to the greener pastures the Normandie presented. Boys drank and fibbed with each other, boys danced with girls... some girls danced with other girls and explored other frontiers. God was in his Heaven, all was right with the World. Someone had told her that His name was Hendrix. What a peculiar name.

She turned her head and saw a familiar jacket hanging over her desk chair. It was the duty jacket of her boss, Ensign Adam Carter that she had absconded with the night before last. She remembered dancing with the frustrating man during the party and he revealed some sort of assignment for her after her test. The thoughts of which were scrubbed clean by the anxiousness of her OSCE. The chronometer blinked back 0635.

Sighing immensely, Luna Konev rose out of bed, her bare skin prickling to the chill of the regulated air. She had always been a terrible morning person as her blood pressure was relatively low before breakfast. Torturing herself, she made her way to the shared sonic shower to refresh. Thankfully, no one was occupying the head, she didn’t want to bother with the other cadet that shared her bathroom. Bumping her crown against the bulkhead, she palmed the small display and activated the vibrations. Shortly after, moaning like a zombie, she shambled out of the shower and shrugged into her eggshell white silk robes. The Orion assaulted her dorm-size suspension box which was nestled between her bed and her dresser. Popping her meds, she munched on the ends of her vitamin sweet bread before downing it with hot green tea.

“Computer. Personalized status report.” She grumped to the display hanging above the foot of her bed. Yawning, she fussed with her sonically tussled hair. She really needed to redye it some other color. There were too many blondes and redheads on the Normandie and black was too common for an Orion. Her natural brown was never an option. She would need to deal with this later, as she had bigger fish to fry.

“Ship status, normal.” The two-dimensional representation of SARAH claimed on the display screen. “No attempts or intrusions to your quarters. No attempts or infiltrations to your data. You have three messages marked available, but not urgent. You have no duty today with the exception of your Objective Structured Command Examination scheduled at twelve-hundred hours in Holodeck One.”

“Don’t remind me.” Luna muttered as she rubbed the sleepiness out of her eyes. “No, I don’t mean that. SARAH belay that order. Remind me an hour before the event.”

She needed to study one last time.

Tossing herself back onto her bed and curled up in her sheets for warmth. In a few hours she would get out of bed again, get herself done up, and suit up in her crispest uniform. But for now, she had to consult with her predecessors.

“SARAH, review pre-selected archives.” Luna squinted her eyes at the listings. “Start with the Galen Border Conflicts 2357 and work forward until the Battle of Ricktor Prime 2375.”

The computer complied and the Orion girl grabbed her PADD from her bedside counter. Watching the footage and data splash across the screen, she immersed herself into the past, into the other Commanders and Captains who at one time wore the uniform of a Cadet like her. If they could do it, why not her?

OFF:

[Holodeck 1, USS Normandie]
[July 22, 2386, 0655]

Cadet Senior Grade Tat paced the short distance from wall to wall in the hallway outside the holodeck. She'd been awake since 0330, anxious about the OSCE test that was about to take place just on the other side of those doors. She'd heard horror stories of disastrous results and, even though the holodeck safeties would be engaged and there were no serious risks, her finely honed Ferengi "fight or flight" instinct was leaning heavily towards flight.

Her stomach growled and she grimaced. despite being awake for three and a half hours, she'd been too tense to eat. She was in flagrant violation of Rule of Acquisition #214 - "Never begin a negotiation on an empty stomach." And whatever lay in wait for her behind those doors, it would be up to her to negotiate her way between the pitfalls.

With a soft whoosh, the holodeck doors parted. Cadet Tat caught a glimpse of the Normandie bridge within before Colonel T'Lani strode out and met her with a firm, red-eyed stare.

"Cadet." she looked at her for the briefest of moments, "You are to under-go your first OSCE during your Cruise. You will take the role of the Commanding Officer." she did not speak further, "I will give you no further instructions other than remember as an Officer you represent the entire Federation."

Tat nodded her understanding, not trusting herself to speak.

T'Lani looked at the Cadet, and nodded for her to follow her into the holodeck. Once inside the room she turned to face the mixed-species child, "That uniform will not do." she spoke to the computer, "Computer attire Cadet Tat appropriately." she watched in silence as the Cadet's uniform changed to that of a command officer and 4 golden pips appears on her collar, they were simple holographic projections over the clothes she wore anyway.

"Captain, the bridge is yours." she gave a slight nod and walked to the back of the bridge herself and stood in silence.

Tat took the slightest pause to glance at herself in the reflective surface of a display panel. She straightened her back, prideful of the pips, even if they were holographic. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. She gave her uniform a tug and declared, "Status reports." Instead of striding to the Captain's chair, she made a slow circuit of the bridge, checking each station in turn. Rule of Acquisition #190 - Hear all, trust nothing. While she knew she could trust her officers, confirming things with her own eyes couldn't hurt.

She stopped first at the tactical station. "Report, Lieutenant?"

Julian looked up with a serious expression on his face, and said "Phasers and Photon Torpedoes standing by."

Tat nodded and moved to examine Ops and the helm. With some surprise, she noted they appeared to be patrolling close to Ferengi territory. "Carry on," she murmured. She moved to the center chair as Dr. Evincrue vacated the seat. "Smooth ride so far," she remarked to the Executive Officer. She grinned, both of them knowing this wouldn't be much of a test if the smooth ride continued much longer. She sat. The chair felt too big.

The ship was already at warp, and continued for a few minutes. Suddenly the ship was rocked, several crew members were thrown from their terminals.

Tat clutched the arms of the Captain's chair, steadying herself. Her low center of gravity helped her maintain her balance as the ship rocked around her. "Status reports! What the hell was that?"

"We're dead in space, Captain," reported Adam, still clutching the Helm station slightly harder than was necessary. "Warp's out, impulse is out. I might be able to do something with manoeuvring thrusters if you can give me some prep time."

"All I can tell you, Sir," Elena reported, "is that we're as blind as a mole. All sensors are down, internal sensors at 50% and I have more than half of the systems still rebooting or fried."

Corbet returned to her seat filled with irritation. "Primary power is down. Re-routing to emergency power. Repair teams are dispatched. Something just broke the laws of physics to knock us out of warp, especially something that took out primary power. With the inertial dampners offline, we should be paste on the forward bulkhead."

Julian suppressed the urge to smile at the situation, and said "Captain, incoming message."

Tat smiled grimly and began to issue rapid-fire orders. "Federov - get those sensors online. Corbet - find out why we're not paste on the bulkhead and get that power up. Mr. Carter, I want manuevering thrusters on-line in two minutes, just in case. Durand, respond to the hail. On-screen."

As she stood and approached the viewer, her brow puckered further. Something someone had said. It took only a half-moment to catch the fleeting thought. Just before the viewscreen came to life, Tat added, "Corbet, find out if whatever that was is related to what happened to the Wanderer. The laws of physics are starting to become mere suggestions." Tat knew that this was just a simulation but it felt like it struck a similar chord as the current situation unfolding outside of the holodeck. It could just be a coincidence, of course...

As the viewscreen resolved into the image of a sneering Ferengi Daimon, Tat reconsidered. Maybe it wasn't just a coincidence.

The Ferengi's toothy grin appeared on the screen. He was pleased to see the Hew-mons looking surprised to see him... "I am DaiMon Lik of the Ferengi Marauder Khingraal. It appears your ship is in some trouble. Is there anything I could help you with?"

With a confidence she didn't feel, Tat replied, "Thank you for your...generous offer, Daimon. For starters, you could stop firing on us. We have no quarrel with you. Yet."

"I don't know what you mean Captain." said Lik thinking of Rule 248 -A good lie is easier to believe than the truth.-. He looked at the...was it a Ferengi female?! "It appears that while we were attempting to safely deactivate a mine left over from your Federation War with the Dominion and you were caught in an inadvertent shock-wave..." he trailed off as he looked at his screen, "It would also appear that your ship is totally - how do the Hew-mons say it? - dead in the water?"

Evincrue turned and spoke softly, "In this case, it may be against your morals but, One good lie, deserves a good bluff. Plus you need time to check on your ship."

Tat gave the faintest of nods, her sharp Ferengi ears picking up her Executive Officer's advice. It was right in line with what she'd been thinking. She also found it interesting that, of all the Human expressions, Lik chose to use, he'd opted for the same one that Carter had used to describe their situation.

Stepping casually to stand by the helm, so she could observe Carter, and his progress, she affected a perplexed look and responded, "Perhaps the shockwave damaged your sensors, Daimon. We took some damage, but we are by no means helpless." She cracked a toothy smile. "Would you care for a demonstration?"

Noting Tat's position, Adam tapped a couple of keys and brought up a new screen on the helm console, in Tat's line of sight. His fingers flew across the touchpad for a moment as he typed a brief message.

"THRUSTERS ONLINE
ONE EMERGENCY MANOEVURE OK"

The text flashed for a few seconds, then vanished, replaced with a new message.

"SPECIFY DIRECTION
READY ON YOUR MARK"

Tat smiled broadly as she glanced at the message, then raised her eyes to lock with those of Daimon Lik. "Helm, set a course. Target the Ferengi ship...and perpare to go to warp on my mark." A good lie is easier to believe than the truth. She was pretty sure that was a rule but she was so nervous, she couldn't remember the number. Tat was pleased that her voice belied her nervousness.

"Daimon Lik, it's been a pleasure," she said with a smile. "Now you have exactly three seconds to get the hell out of our way, or we'll be scraping your ship off our bow."

As she spoke, Tat sidled over towards Tactical, checking the status of their weapons, just in case Lik called her bluff.

Lik smiled a toothy smile and looked at the female on the screen, "I would very much like to see that Captain." he paused, "My ship was shielded when the incident occurred, and my sensors say your ship is non-functional..." he let the statement hang for a moment, "...for a small fee I would be willing to assist you."

Damn, Tat thought to herself. remembering Evincrue's advice, she ecided to stall until her crew could give her something more than one evasive maneuver.

She tilted her head and gave Lik her best full-blooded Ferengi salivating leer. "I'm always willing discuss a deal. Go ahead and make your..opening offer."

"For towing your ship to safe space, I will require all your female crew in payment. The Orion syndicate will pay well for Hew-mon women as slaves..." he looked at the Captain, "Or I can destroy your ship now and take parts as salvage, as you can see either way I am going to be building my own moon out of Latinum." the pleased expression engulfed his face.

Tat weighed the options quickly. Being towed to so-called safe space may give her crew time to repair the ship enough to make a break for it. But Lik would probably require his...payment first. Allowing Lik to attack was not an option. Glancing at the status of the ship's shields and weapons, Lik would make short work of them.

She smiled ingratiatingly at Lik. "Those are most...generous offers. I'll need a few minutes to discuss it with my officers. Please hold."

She gestured to Julian to sever the connection and turned to scan the bridge. "Options, people?"

Corbet looked up from her computations.
"Phasers and shields are still off-line, but the Torpedoes use their own power. I sent a prep warning down to the bay, tubes one through three are loaded and ready. I just need to finish scripting their tracking program. If there are any other Ferengi ships in the area, these will go after them too, but that shouldn't be too big of a concern."

Corbet pointed to half of her console that was laid out in a wall of scrolling text.

"Sensors are offline, so I have all available recruits at windows sending me visual intel in text format. Currently the Ferengi vessel is aft and above us."

A message Flashed on Corbet's console.

"Lieutenant West reports the fighters are ready to launch. We'd need to turn off emergency power in the brig to power the hangar bay doors, but I don't think we are currently carrying any prisoners."
Corbet said smiling.

"Confirmed Sir," Elena added, "no risk of losing internal sensors either, as they're down already. I am working on relieving Mister Smith's cadets from sensor duty as well. I'm rigging external sensors back up, we should also have tactical scanners on-line back soon."

Adam spun in his seat to face the bridge at large. "Warp's down entirely - looks like we've cracked a warp coil. Impulse, on the other hand, should be back up and running within ten minutes. Lieutenant Sepeth was injured in the impact but Chief Griffith's on it. Sooner than that, I can rig the maneuvering thrusters to overcharge for a single emergency burst. They'll probably burn themselves out, but it should be enough to 'dodge' a salvo. If we're lucky."

Corbet Nodded.
"Confirmed sir. We cannot go to warp, but the generator is coming back online now. It won't be accessible for a few minutes while they make sure nothing there is damaged, but we're by no means 'sunk'. We just need to avoid being killed by Ferengi's clearly desiring to be hunted down and killed when their government is faced with a trade embargo from the Federation because of a lack of good faith."

"Fuck em. That's a D'Kora class out there, it was top of the line, twenty years ago. Meanwhile we are sitting in a ship that was designed while the Federation was at war, with a large variety of improvements over a D'Kora."

Corbet smiled lightly.
"In a fair fight, we'd flatten them without breaking a sweat. Crippled and minus our shields, call it a even match. Awaiting your command, Sir."

Tat absorbed all this information nodding thoughtfully. She had forgotten about the fighters. She was loathe to fire on her own people. She shook her head, reminding herself that these were her people, no matter how much she desired to be a full-blooded Ferengi. Still, she who avoids a fight and runs away will live to deal another day. It wasn't a formal Rule of Acquisition, but it was still a good rule of thumb. Besides, the Ferengi in her despired the thought of a fair fight. Perhaps Lik, as a full-blood, also would like to avoid a fight where his odds were only 50/50. An idea began to form.

"All right, people," she announced at last. "Here's what we're going to do. Federov, tell West to deploy the fighters but do not fire on the Ferengi yet. Have them take up positions on our flank and target their weapons systems. Corbet, get one of those torpedoes aimed just across their bow, in case we need to demonstrate our willingness to fight. Carter, if we need to fire that torpedo, be prepared to jump out of the way of a return shot. Position us out of the fighters' way but somewhere where we might be able to do some damage with the other two torpedoes." She ran through the plan, if such a grandiose word could be used for this hodgepodge of tactics, and came up with one more thought.

"Corbet, get one of our torpedos to the nearest functioning transporter, if we have any. Rig it to detonate...ten seconds after transport and, as soon as possible, beam it right into Lik's lap."

"Any questions?"

"Aye, sir," replied Adam crisply, his fingers flying across the screen of his console. "Beginning a lateral drift. Corbet, that'll give you an angle on anything down its starboard flank. Dodge manoevure is ready, I'll execute it the moment they fire. Corbet, be ready to target their belly from below."

Corbet's fingers flew across her console. Calculations, messages and Alarms appearing everywhere.
"Aye Sir. I've got a team in the shuttlebay using one of their transporters. They've beamed the Torpedo to their shuttle and are standing by to deploy it. All points standing by for your command Sir."

Tat rubbed her hands together briskly, warming to the occasion. "Mr. Durand, put our friend back on-screen. Let's see if he's willing to...negotiate."

Julian smirked, and shook his head saying "Aye sir." His fingers danced across a few of the console screens, and Lik appeared back on the screen.

Daimon Lik's giant visage appeared on the screen. He looked very confident. "Daimon," Tat began without ceremony, "I'm afraid we'll have to refuse your...generous offers. I do, however, propose one of my own. As I said, we are not helpless. So my offer is this. Withdraw from the area and let us make our repairs and be on our way. In exchange, I will NOT issue the order to attack." She leaned forward as though speaking confidentially. "Lik, your opening salvo was good, but not sufficient. The options I have left would be a fair match for your aging ship. I offer you a guarantee that you will live to profit another day. If you fight me, your chances are 50/50 at best. And, Ferengi to Ferengi, I promise you that, the moment the fight turns in your favor, I will order immediately self-destruction of this ship. Either way, you will NOT profit today. I offer you the chance to seek profit another day. The choice is yours."

Elena over the conversation with interest and thrill, almost for a moment forgetting that they were simply living a pre-programmed very intelligent and adaptable simulation. It was, she thought, quite an interesting trick Colonel T'Lani was playing on Tat, with pitching her against a Ferengi opponent.

Her sensors were coming slowly back on-line, and she relayed them to the Tactical console as soon as available, finally providing a clearer picture on the outside world.

T'Lani had watched the progression of the simulation in silence, making notes now and again on a PADD she held. It had run it's course, although it had taken longer than she had initially expected, but the Cadet had not disappointed.

She spoke in a clear tone, "Computer. Pause programme." as every station on the bridge froze along with holographic crew-members, "Everyone please stand." she said as they did so, she then spoke, "Computer: end programme. I thank you all for giving your time to par-take in this exercise. Cadet Tat, I shall review the events of this OSCE and inform you of your results. I will also inform you of our follow-up meeting." she looked around and gave a slight nod, "Dismissed." she said with a slight clipped tone to her voice and walked towards the area she knew the door to be, leaving the holodeck.

A JP by the motley crew of Captain Tat

ON:
[Holodeck One, USS Normandie]
[22JUL2386 - 1155 Hours]

Cadet Luna Konev strode down the hallway toward Holdeck One with resolute determination. She had donned her crispest uniform with her best shined shoes for the occasion and had worked her hair back into a tight bun for a professional style. Reaching the holodeck doors, she paused for a second to steady herself and moderate her heartbeat. Nodding to no one, she moved forward.

The doors swept open with the crisp whoosh of air and revealed the Normandie bridge within, people already at their assumed stations. Lieutenant Ashshy met her at the door.

"Cadet Konev, welcome to your first OSCE aboard the Normandie. You will take the role of the Commanding Officer. I will give you no further instructions, but we are short-staffed so I will stand in as your Executive Officer." He offered her a stiff smile of encouragement.

"Aye, sir." The Orion Cadet looked around the room and cleared her throat. She spoke with strength that her knees threatened to betray. "Lieutenant, I am ready for the OSCE and request the Bridge."

Eiri nodded and looked at Luna. "SARAH, please attire Cadet Konev, and everyone else, appropriately." Luna's uniform changed to one of a command officer's and 4 golden pips appeared on her collar.

"Congratulations, Captain, the bridge is yours," Eiri said with a smile and a nod. He turned went to the XO position, sitting comfortably in the chair.

"I have the Conn and the Bridge." Luna settled into the Captain's chair with a thrill of nervousness. "Ship status and destination?"

“All quiet on sensors, Captain. Nothing out of the ordinary,” Garrett reported, looking over his shoulder at the holographically-promoted Cadet.

She seemed cool enough so far. Orions weren’t the most cryptic species Garrett could think of, and Konev was obviously no delicate flower. He looked forward to seeing what kind of person circumstances would reveal her to be, and with any luck the test would prove her worthy of his vote of confidence.

Ayan tapped on his panel and turned his head to look at the Orion. He grinned at Konev. "Normandie on heading 183 mark 2, on route to rendezvous with the scientific vessel McPherson. Speed is Warp 8, with an estimated time of arrival of 1700 hours tomorrow. Stellar cartography shows no anomalies en route, and the McPherson reports they will be on time." He looked back at his console. "All flight systems normal, Captain."

He didn't add what was running through his head: all systems normal, for now. He remembered one of his own practical tests, and was looking forward to the scenario that Eiri put them all to.

As the ship traveled smoothly at warp, Sepeth surveyed the communications console from his seat off to the side of the bridge. He was used to being on his feet for hours during his shifts in the engine room, so sitting down to work was unfamiliar, though comfortable. The display indicated the usual low-priority subspace chatter.

Duty-bound as he was to carry out his assumed responsibilities as communications officer, Sepeth narrowed the bandwidth range and scanned for more distant comm traffic. Just as he was about to switch back to the standard sweep, an incoming message was detected, and he swiveled around to report it to Captain Konev.

At the same time, the console on Eiri's chair blinked. He looked down. Funny, it was very easy for him to slide into this role. It was not something he had ever considered. Second Officer was as close as his career had taken him. "Captain, we are receiving an encoded hail from Admiral Deveraux. For your eyes only." He looked up at the young Orion.

"Very well, Commander." Luna stated after a brief glance at Eiri's according holographic rank. She stood up with as much grace as she could muster and began to move toward the door. "Send the transmission to my Ready Room. Commander Ashshy, You have the Bridge."

Ayan looked over his shoulder at the half-Vulcan and winked as Eiri took command. "Course remains steady, sir," he said, his eyes twinkling.

"Aye aye, sir," Eiri answered and punched the necessary sequence of buttons to do as she asked.

Admiral Deveraux was a handsome, older human, with dark hair and shocking blue eyes. He was already visible on the screen when she entered the Ready Room. "Ah Captain, good to see you again. It seems that we have a little matter to discuss. Deep Space 4 has been reporting serious attacks of pirates in their sector. It has almost brought their commerce to a halt. This would not be so serious, but it is believed that the pirates are Federation allies that have gone rogue. Their ships are comprised of stolen vessels and seem to have been altered to suit their needs.

Whoever is behind this is very clever. They have managed to stay hidden from Deep Space 4 scout ships and out of the range of tractor beams. We feel that a larger Federation presence is necessary to perhaps flush out these pirates from their hiding place, or come to some sort of peaceful resolution. I trust that I can count on you to handle this matter and use whatever means necessary to stop the reoccurring attacks.

I do not feel a need to impress upon you how delicate this situation is. An incident like this, if handled improperly, could lead to a war with people we have, for a long time, considered our allies."

"Of course, Admiral. I shall err on the side of discretion, should it come to that." Luna agreed as she leaned forward in her chair. "If I may be so bold to ask for any information Starfleet Intelligence has on the matter. Past ambush locations, methods of operations... I would be very curious to see who they assume is the most likely culprits and what they think them may be using. Anything would be useful in making sure we do not mistakenly step into a diplomatic fiasco."

He nodded. "Of course, Captain, but I'm afraid the isn't much information. As I stated previously they have managed to evade us at every turn. We're not even sure what sort of ships their using, except from the wide variety of reports from the shippers in the area. One ship reported was even an old Orion transport, long decommissioned. I am sending all the information we have." The monitor blinked and progressed through the download, giving her a cheerful chirp when it was done. "I'm afraid that is all we have to offer. Good luck Captain." He did not wait for her to wish him farewell.

The admiral had not exaggerated. The information was hardly anything at all. The logs were widely varied in their telling of encounters. Only one thing was clear though the jumble of information, these people were not to be reckoned with.

Luna walked back onto the Bridge, armed with what little information SFI had to offer. At first glance, it seemed like a skilled pirate group. She would need to cast her net far and wide even to catch a glimpse of these fellows.

"One moment, Commander." Luna remarked before Eiri stood out of the Command Chair as she strode toward the helmsman. "Lieutenant Ayan, please have your flight teams ready the Runabouts Loire and Seine, and our shuttles Pasteur and Descartes for sortie. Make sure they have a sensors operator on board as their duty will be one of reconnaissance. Once ready, have them flank us in an optimum search pattern. We are looking for vessels outside normal shipping routes and sensor anomalies, but don't discount anything unusual."

Ayan nodded his head and began working on his panel.

"Aye, Captain," he said. He paused, and then turned his head to the Orion for a moment. "Ma'am, as a matter of protocol, my correct title would be Lieutenant Retol," he said in the tone of one accustomed to politely making such a correction. He felt a little bad calling the Cadet out during her OSCE, but it was almost an ingrained cultural response at this point. "Bajoran custom is Surname first, given name second, so in other cultures I would be Ayan Retol. It's a common mistake."

He smiled a little after looking at his panel. "Runabouts and Shuttle crews report ready for launch on order in approximately 5 minutes. I'll start working to plan adequate search patterns."

"Ah, thank you, Lieutenant Retol." Luna tilted her head with a wry grin, feeling slightly embarrassed for the name mix up. She should have known better, but her nervousness was starting to get the best of her.

"Lieutenant Garrett, please go over this data." The Orion quietly asked of the Science Officer as she came within close proximity of him. "This is sensitive information and your job is to see if there are any common factors to these pirate attacks. Notify me in private if you find anything."

“Understood.” Show some confidence, Luna. You haven’t even been thrown a curveball yet. You’re making nothing but good calls. With a crack of his knuckles, Garrett set his focus on the console interface before him and began poring over the reports, searching for revealing patterns in the pirates’ activities. It was an interesting problem, he thought, much like trying to describe the feeding behavior of a carnivore based on a jumble of confused secondhand reports from its prey species. This particularly raw example of raw data analysis would be a welcome challenge.

"Lieutenant Sepeth," 'Captain' Konev said as she finally came closer to her chair, "please contact the McPherson as ask if they have seen any ship movements or sensor anomalies in their recent travels."

"Aye aye, sir," said the Vulcan, and he swiveled around to carry out the order. Luna finally took her seat from Eiri.

"Captain," said Sepeth, "The USS McPherson has been hailed on all routine channels and is not responding. Our computer logs show that their last correspondence with us was approximately two hours ago."

"That is disconcerting. Lieutenant Sepeth, keep hailing them," Luna said as she sat down on her seat. "Contact any nearby Federation outposts and vessels to see if they caught sight of the McPherson in the last couple hours." The Vulcan nodded and complied with the Captain's orders.

"Lieutenant Retol, add the McPherson and any possible signs of combat as part of the search parameters and expedite the launch of the auxiliary craft. In the meanwhile, I have the Conn. Helm, all ahead flank. Maximum military power. Give me an ETA."

Ayan's hands flew across the console as he worked and the Normandie arched gracefully and increased speed. His usually chatty tone became (slightly) more business like. "All ahead flank, aye, bearing on course. Search parameters expanded and hangers indicate ready for rapid launch in two minutes. Arrival on location in twelve minutes."

Sepeth read the incoming transmission displayed on his console. "Captain, Deep Space 4 reports that the McPherson left spacedock one hour ago without incident. Furthermore, they are broadcasting a call for assistance."

"Deep Space Four is need of assistance." Luna turned to look at her Comm Officer. "What is the nature of their request? Are they in distress?"

"It seems so, sir. I believe that something is interfering with their communications; the signal-to-noise ratio is very low."

"Commander Ashshy, a moment please." She leaned as she beckoned him closer so she could speak in hushed terms. "Deep Space Four has been victim to several pirate attacks. They are sneaky enough not to have been caught and there might be some inside information being abused. Can you remind me why we are meeting the McPherson?"

Eiri looked down at his console. He had not considered why they were meeting the other ship, it was simply a part of the scenario, which he was not familiar with, since originally he had no intention of running it. Thankfully, the scenario had the answer. "Yes sir. We are meeting them for a crew exchange. Our plans were to pick up several scientists and then take them to a spacial anomaly for study."

"Scientists?" The Orion asked. If the McPherson was taken by pirates, she might have fought and hopefully left some evidence that might be traced to the culprits. Though, a scientific vessel would run before committing to a gunfight. More likely they were approached by a seemingly 'friendly' ship and asked for assistance, before being boarded. Which would mean they might have squawked an SOS to bring them in. "Ah, Lieutenant Sepeth, search for any distress signals, even those outside of normal Federation frequencies. Lieutenant Garret, how far is this spacial anomaly from our flightpath and would it serve as a makeshift cloak for raiders?"

The tall Vulcan replied, "There is still no response from the McPherson, and apart from the call for assistance from Deep Space 4, there are no signs of any other distress signals in the sector, sir."

Wordlessly, Garrett shifted his attention from analyzing the pirates' attack patterns to the results of sensor sweeps on the anomaly. He frowned. "A relatively minor diversion of our flightpath would bring us quite close to the anomaly. It contains high levels of molybdenum and a few other transition metals. That's going to make it difficult to positively identify or even locate vessels therein. Should the Captain decide to investigate, I'd advise caution."

Eiri furrowed his eyebrows. The OSCE was considerably more complicated then he thought it would be. He could not help but offer suggestions. "Captain? Do you think we should speed up our rendezvous with the McPherson? If they were attacked..." he let the subject trail off, reminding himself not to help too much. He was sure that she was aware that a science vessel was not usually equipped to deal with a full-on attack.

Ayan raised his voice over the cross chatter to be heard. "Captain, Recon ships manned and standing by for launch order. Normandie now ten minutes from planned rendezvous point with McPherson at current speed. Helm steady on course, running all ahead flank. Awaiting orders." He turned his head to face the Orion. "Given the situation and the possible battle we're approaching, I'd recommend red alert, Ma'am, and that accompanying ships be prepared to defend the Normandie."

"Good advice all around, gentlemen." Luna stopped biting her lip as she considered the variables and straightened in her chair. She had seen dozens of holovid documentaries on situations like this, but not quite like this. Willing to take a risk on the paradox, she began issuing orders. "Lieutenant Retol, away all readied boats, as risk-free as you can manage. Have them work your sweeping patterns, then ready the Fightercraft for launch. I want them to be able to scramble once we drop out of warp if needed. Let us do as Commander Ashshy suggests and hasten the rendezvous. If you can squeeze any more delta-vee out of this ship safely, do so. Lieutenant Sepeth, try to let DS4 know that we are attempting to find the McPherson and to forward any regional information they might have as it becomes known. Basically, ask them to watch our back. Lieutenant Garrett, keep an eye on scanners, I want to know what we are getting ourselves into when we drop out of warp immediately. If you can spare it, keep an eye on that anomaly. Based on the current matters of distress and possible impending violence, I am issuing Red Alert. Sound call to General Quarters."

With red alert blaring the Normandie dropped out of warp close to the coordinates of the last known position of the science vessel USS McPherson. Instead of a ship, the crew was greeted with a sight that left a lump in Eiri's throat. The McPherson was gone, obvious debris from what was left floated around the area, like scattered puzzle pieces on a background of stars and blackness.

Although, the blackness was not complete. Not even 400 feet from where the wreckage was located the anomaly swirled. It was indeed an anomaly. Other words were useless, in much the same way a UFO simply describes an flying object that cannot be identified, anomaly definitely described the swirling mass. The center was blacker then space and everything else seemed to swirl in and out from its center. The spirals were composed of yellow and red particles, but they were not being released or sucked in, more to the contrary they seemed to being doing both, constantly recycling back and forth through the center.

"What is that?" Luna breathed, almost mesmerized by the oddity on the viewscreen. "Is this what destroyed the McPherson? Lieutenant Garrett, what are we looking at? Comm, make attempts to hail. Tactical, please standby."

Though the sad, twisted wreckage of the McPherson drifting across the main viewscreen was only simulated, Garrett could not look upon it with his typically flippant humor. In reality, outside holodecks, decent people were still killed in the line of duty like this far too often. It was one reason cadets like Konev absolutely needed to undergo tough training, and in a purely scholastic way, the former Academy science instructor was happy to see that this examination was taking a hard and frightening turn into the unknown. He just hoped she’d pass; watching students try earnestly and yet still fail was a most unpleasant feeling for him.

Now, how about that anomaly? Konev’s inquiry and his natural curiosity set him in motion to bring up sensor readings on the enigmatic rosette. A hand moved to his chin as he scanned the readouts on his console, attempting to mentally compile a summary of the information, speaking in his low bass.

“I read no emissions of the sort known to destroy starships, Captain, so at the moment I don’t think the anomaly is responsible for the McPherson. It’s roughly spherical, less than a million kilometers across, there are lots of transition metals inside, it’s giving off some low-frequency radiation, and those colored streaks are energized leptons of a few varieties, though I can only guess as to what’s making them move that way. Sensors aren’t telling me much else. Just about anything or anyone could be in there and we’d not have much foreknowledge. I’ll let you know if I notice anything strange, ma’am.”

"Tactical, prepare to fire five sensor probes into the anomaly. Sciences, gather any information. If something is in there, let me know." Luna blinked as her mind raced to keep up with the scenario. "Scan for survivors and begin rescue operations. Security and Medical, stay on hand at transporters to screen survivors. Flight Ops, have auxiliary craft spread out and search for any trail or sign of whoever did this. Comm, anything on your end?"

"Negative, Captain," replied Sepeth, "there has been no response to our hails; the anomaly is generating a great deal of interference with our communications." The Vulcan rubbed his bald scalp thoughtfully. Cadet examinations have progressed rapidly in difficulty since my time at the Academy, he mused. Trying to be of assistance in any way he could, he added, "I shall attempt to boost the signal strength."

Ayan frowned as the reports from the search ships came in. "Search craft only reporting one additional trail, Captain, which appears consistent with the McPherson." He ponders his display for a moment. "None are reporting any unusual ion trails or otherwise." He looked over his shoulder at the Cadet. "It's possible that whoever's out there knows how to mask their trail from our sensors," he offered. "They're showing no other unusual sensor readings, but given the way the anomaly is affecting our sensors, I don't hold too much confidence in that assessment. All search craft staying wide of the anomaly and awaiting further orders."

"Fire probes in a wide dispersal pattern into the anomaly." Luna Konev felt hesitant in just charging into the thing and she didn't enjoy the idea of risking any shuttles as well. "Have all auxiliary vessels key into their signal as well, but continue rescue ops. Let's get as many eyes as we can on this."

The probes silently propelled themselves into the void, suddenly disappearing from view as they reached the threshold of the blackness. Garrett read their returning readings with the same intrigued eagerness he greeted all raw data with. With a little mathematical work, the probes' readouts being transmitted to his console could end up physically explaining the lepton streams, the high light absorption, the low-band radiation emissions, the--

Abruptly, communications from the first and second probe ceased. His eyebrows drew together. It wasn't unheard of for sensor probes to disappear when they were launched into uncharted anomalies, but typically they'd at least give some warning of impending destruction. He shrugged it off. The first two were only a few thousand meters in, and the other three probes were still transmitting fine. Perhaps the first two were just launched in the wrong--

Probes three and four disappeared. He grunted in surprise. Something wasn't right, and he didn't like not knowing what it was. "Captain, I'm losing probe signals, two down at 6,000 meters out and two down at 7,700." He had barely finished his sentence before the final probe, like its partners, went silent. "Just lost the last one, ma'am." Odd, isn't it, that they'd disappear so linearly? Like watching pike attack a line of ducklings. Ducklings and pike... just how apt was that simile? Had Konev found her predator? "Captain, you may want to see this."

"Hmmm..." Luna briskly left her seat and leaned over the Science Officer's shoulder, squinting her eyes at the display. "What is that, at the end of the transmission? Did they just sink by pairs?"

“True, but there’s something more interesting I thought the Captain should see, especially in light of those reports on the pirate attacks you gave me, ma’am. If you’d direct your attention here, here, and here, please…” Garrett pointed to the last known locations of the probes, his eyes never leaving the screen as he initiated data playback. He narrated as it commenced, falling easily into the role of explicator.

“These pirates seem to be the adaptable type, but I’ve found one of their habits: everyone in those reports who engaged them did so at 4,000 meters or less. A range like that is not one that very many criminals would prefer, current sensor technology being what it is. Maybe they have older weapons systems that force them that close and they have some trick up their sleeves to get near their targets.”

Playback halted at the apparent loss of the first two probes. “These probes were about 3,600 meters apart when we lost their signals, and each was roughly 6,000 meters away from us. The distances form an isosceles triangle, see?” He continued playback, which halted again when probes three and four went silent. “These two were also about 3,600 meters apart and about 7,700 meters from the Normandie. Another triangle. When the last probe disappears it’s only about 2,100 meters away from number four.” He turned to look at Konev, his expression serious.

“Personally, I find the geometry suspicious, ma’am. Not only did we lose these probes in perfect starboard-to-port order, but 80% of them went down in pairs and the members of each pair were less than 4,000 meters apart when they disappeared. I guarantee they’re not running into walls in there. Factor in the time interval between each disappearance and I can think of several flight paths that would give a vessel with average top speed and a 4,000-meter weapons range ample time to get behind the forward-looking sensor arrays on those probes and leisurely pick them off.”

He lowered his voice slightly.

“It’s not the best-supported idea I’ve ever had, Captain, but if I’m right, we just lost five probes to people who don’t want to be found, there could be a lot of them, and they’re probably watching us right now.”

"Good thinking, Lieutenant." The Orion smiled briskly at the science officer and patted his shoulder lightly. "I will have to agree with your assessment. But question is now, how do we fish them out?"

"No response from the anomaly, sir," said Sepeth. "The lepton vortex and the radiation seem to be causing rapid signal degradation." He looked over at the Cadet who would be Captain. He reckoned that she was doing well so far, and wondered to himself how this scenario would play out. As he considered various possibilities, he couldn't help but notice that Cadet Konev cut quite an elegant silhouette. Draped over her trim form and long legs, the red and black uniform had never looked more flattering. Human males will likely find their attention distracted from their duties while serving under such a... statuesque Captain, he thought.

Luna Konev's mind raced with the possibilities. The McPherson sunk, the anomaly suspiciously near, and now her probes were being shot out of their flight. All signs pointed to someone hiding in that nebulous mass of particulate and radiation. Charging in with the shuttles or fighters would only get them shot down and sailing the ship into it was just too dangerous to consider. In the old days of sea and sail, when a fleet could not attack a harbor, they filled a hulk with consumables and sent it toward shore engulfed with flames. A tricolbalt fire boat might be an option.

The unknown quantity and strength of what might be in there made her err on the side of caution.

"Lieutenant Sepeth, please transmit our findings to any nearby Federation positions. The McPherson is believed sunk and we are now investigating this anomaly. Reconfirm Deep Space Four's situation, please." Luna returned to her seat as she worked out a plan. "Flight Control, reposition us on the flank of the anomaly, if something is in there, I don't want it shooting back on the track we laid. Also, scramble fighters and begin Combat Flight Patrol around the Normandie."

"Flank side, aye Captain," Ayan said. The Normandie slid around to the side of the anomaly as its fighter contingent scrambled out of the flight decks.

"Fighters in position and taking up patrol. I recommend that all craft stay at least 2000 kilometers further out than the points where the probes were destroyed."

Luna nodded to the Flight control Officer and muttered her agreement. "Good idea, make it happen, Lieutenant."

He looked down at his panel for a moment and then sighed. "Recovery craft report no survivors on the McPherson, Captain. They found one life pod, but it appears that it was intentionally destroyed after it was ejected from the McPherson. Appears all hands lost." He shook his head. "Prophets guide them," he said softly. While he knew it was only a simulation, it was important to take it seriously.

"An intentionally destroyed life pod?" The young Orion woman knew it was a simulation, but the thought raised the hairs on the back of her neck. Standing to her full height she addressed the bridge crew with what she felt was righteous indignation in her voice. "I am going to assume that there are hostile elements hiding within that anomaly, elements that have sunk and slaughtered all aboard the McPherson. I would like nothing more than to launch a pair of Tricobalt warheads into that congregation. Given the situation, I believe the damage to such a unique stellar phenomenon is worth denying a safe harbor to strike from."

"Tactical, prepare four probes and two Tricobalt devices to be fired in the same pattern as before." Luna Konev swept her gaze across the senior officers before her. "If anyone has any alternatives less flashy than a 20,000 teracochrane explosion, speak of it now."

The anomaly shifted, shimmered and then disappeared completely to reveal a craft that looked to be a unique mix of Klingon and Romulan technology, with a few things thrown in that were unidentifiable. Although the size of the ship was not flashy it still gave the appearance of some sort of space bird of prey that had been lying in wait, an ambush predator.

Garrett, fascinated by the sudden evaporation of the anomaly, realized nevertheless that this was not an appropriate time to be amazed and curious about the marvels of the universe. "They've locked weapons on us," he reported evenly in his smooth bass. "May I remind the Captain that they may have hostages from the McPherson aboard." Violence was anathema to Garrett's respect for living things, but then again, so were those who practiced it for their livelihood.

"Helm, evasive maneuvers Beta Nine Three, crash dive. Tactical, belay the last load out and load photon torpedoes. Target shield generators. Fire when ready." Luna's mezzo soprano rang out, her desire to keep calm under fire warring with the need for action. "Have our fighters coordinate with our attacks, bring those shields down. Ready Marines for boarding. Have the shuttles and runabouts break clear of battle and transmit our findings to the Relay. Have them sweep for any reinforcements, both hostile and friendly. Lieutenant Sepeth, hail the ship, call for their surrender."

"Evasive, Aye!" Ayan's hand slammed down on the panel and the screen dropped swiftly. He usually hated being flashy with his flying, but in cases like this, flashy was better than dead. Even with the quick evasive, the ship shuddered under a glancing blow from the enemy's weapons.

"Prophets, Normandie," he murmured to himself. "Let's turn a little faster, hmm?" He arced the ship into a series of quick turns to try to avoid other hits. He growled in frustration as the ship shimmied just a little from another hit. Without disabling the target or running away, though, it was only a matter of time before Normandie was hit hard. Flight control only had to be wrong once....

"Fighters away!" he called, his voice distracted as he paid closer attention to his piloting. "Support craft breaking off." The Normandie rocked from more weapons fire, and the view on the monitor flipped and dropped as Ayan threw the ship into another dive and tight turn with a burst of speed. "They'll have a firing solution soon, Captain," he cautioned.

Sepeth extended a steadying hand to the communications console as his chair was rocked by more fire. "Deep Space Four has been notified of our status, Captain. They are in no immediate danger; the attacks they were facing have subsided, and they are in the process of repairing their systems. The USS Appomattox is about three hours from our position at maximum warp, and they have been alerted to our situation as well. Opening a channel to the unknown vessel."

A smartly dressed, stunningly beautiful Orion woman appeared on the screen. She wore an outdated flying suit that had been sprayed onto her curvaceous form. Her long brown hair curled gracefully around her face and her eyes were a stunningly dark chocolate brown. "Running away are we?" she purred. "Drop your shields and prepare to be boarded." The crew around her on the monitor were varied in species and none protested her orders.

"You've crossed the line, Captain. You've destroyed a Federation vessel." Luna bit back a string of Orion curse words as she remembered that it was just a hologram. Her mind raced as she had to try to finish this game mentally, as she didn't know how powerful that... Abomination was. "Even if you somehow manage to sink us or get away, you do realize that by exposing yourself, you will now have the full weight of Star Fleet hunting you and your people down, until the ends of the universe. I hope you get used to running and hiding."

Lt. Sepeth spun his chair to face away from the viewscreen and angled his head to make eye contact with Luna. "We have received more detailed reports from Deep Space 4, Captain Konev. Just before they were attacked, their sensors picked up an energized lepton signature, and we have visual reports of a red-and-yellow vortex near the station during the assault." He turned the rest of the way around and arched a suspicious eyebrow at the enemy captain.

"I will assume this is the first time you were forced to show yourselves to your prey before damaging it before hand," Luna said. "Your streak has been broken and your luck has turned. And a Captain without her luck will suffer more bad omens, before others will try to take her command. It will be a miracle if Star Fleet finds you before your crew turns on you."

No matter how pleasing to Garrett's eye, a murdering parasite remained a murdering parasite, and her beauty would be worthless in solitary confinement. That, and her demands were ridiculous. It was obvious she didn't know Konev's personality or the capabilities of an Insignia-class cruiser. "We're still in a weapons lock, Captain. I show minimal damage to the pirate vessel."

"Helm, Attack Pattern Beta Four, come up her skirt, Lieutenant Retol. Have fighters run interference as they turn to match. Guns, fire as she bears, concentrate on bringing down ventral shields then target Engines." Luna ordered as she shut off communication with her evil Orion counterpart. "Engineering, ready packets of anti-matter to be teleported into the enemy's nacelles and energize when their shields drop. Marines, report to transporters and prepare to board."

The Normandie shot up fast on the y axis, arced gracefully to the port, and dove hard at the pirate vessel. Normandie turned hard, enough that a slight g force was evident even through the inertial dampeners, and ended up behind and slightly under the enemy ship.

The pirate ship turned hard, trying to shake the Normandie, and came under fire from Normandie's support craft. The bridge shook slightly at a glancing blow, and the Normandie shot up again, diving back down to retake its position.

Ayan said nothing, instead focusing on his readouts and doing his best to keep them from colliding with the enemy ship. The last thing he wanted to do was end this OSCE by crashing the ship.

"Captain, our adversary is attempting to contact us," Sepeth stated, his eyes on Luna.

Eiri wanted to help, to offer some sort of advice. He could feel the rising tension of the people around him and he did not really like it, but he also did not want to sway her mind one way or the other, not that he knew the correct answer, or if there even was one. He silently thanked the gods that this was a simulation only, but it also made his abilities rather useless. And what advice would he give her? They deserved everything they received, even if it meant their death.

"Keep firing, bring those shields down, people." The make-believe Captain chanced a look at her evaluator. Lieutenant Ashshy's face was unreadable. She was pretty sure what she was going to see on screen in a moment, and she knew it was the crux of the simulation. Luna began to galvanized her courage to make the decision that would come next. "Put them on screen, Lieutenant Sepeth."

The chestnut-haired Orion appeared on the screen again. Her bridge shook around her from the fire of the fighters from the Normandie. "Aren't we being a little hasty? What atrocities are you speaking of? We are simple thieves, not murderers. Forgive me for protecting my interests," she lied. Even for a simulation the lie was still bad. "Call off your dogs and we can talk." She offered a friendly smile, which was just as syrupy as her words.

Beams of hot light silently seared through space as the Normandie’s nimble Gryphon-class fighters harried the pirate vessel like a pack of wolves after a caribou. The pirate’s attempts at evading were for naught; Lieutenant Retol’s skill and the Normandie’s maneuverability combined to bring the mighty heavy cruiser neatly ventral to her prey. Garrett watched his sensor readouts with a mixture of satisfaction and sorrow as the Normandie’s powerful dorsal phaser arrays struck underbelly, ripping through shields. “Direct hit,” he reported, raising his voice for the first time of the day. “One more like it and their shields will fail.”

He chanced a brief glance over his shoulder at the Cadet. Okay, you know how to fight. But can you negotiate? Will you? In his opinion, even dishonest, murderous pirates deserved something less final than premature death at the hands of a zealous young pseudo-officer.

"Deep Space Four has identified your unique signature during its assault. You were found concealed at the scene of the wanton destruction of a Federation science vessel. Now you ambush and engage in combat with a Star Fleet Cruiser, calling for its surrender?" Luna stood defiantly at her evil mirror image. "Strike your colors and heave to. You have no other alternative."

Jabbing the communication off, Konev addressed her bridge crew.

"I don't care if she drops her shields or our guns drop them for her. Get a transporter lock on everyone on their bridge and beam them into our brig without their weapons. Engineering, belay all demolitions transportation." Luna rested a hand on her hip as her other hand emphasized her orders. "Have our Marines board them and secure the crew. Helm, keep our distance. Cease firing and call off our Fighters as soon as she stops hostilities and resume Combat Flight Patrol. Comm, keep DS4 and the Appomattox informed of the situation."

It was not long before the pirate's shields failed under the heavy and accurate fire of the fighters. Their ship shuddered and lurched almost like a dying, wounded animal and then was still. Once their shields were down, it was easy to establish a lock on each individual of the crew and beam them into the brig.

"Engage Tractors on that ship. Comm, contact DS4 and the Appomattox. Let them know we have the suspects under custody and will be towing the vessel to the regional authorities. Helm, plot course for Deep Space Four. Recall fighters and other auxiliary craft." Luna felt the tension bleed out of her body as the excitement faded. "Once that ship is under our complete control bring us to Yellow Alert and take us to shore. Good work people."

Eiri stood from his seat and smiled as the scenario came to a close and the lights came up again. "Well done Cadet Konev. I do not recall the OSCEs being this complicated. I am afraid though that I cannot give you your results yet. I am not sure how they score these things, but in my opinion you did an excellent job." He smiled again. "Everyone is dismissed."

"Thank you, Sir." Luna nodded toward the Counselor as the holograms began to dissolve and her uniform leeched itself of its color until it was back to her Intelligence Greys. The Orion Cadet made her way quickly to the door and stood there to shake each of the officers' hands before the exited.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," she said as Garrett met her eyes, firmly grasping her hand in his calloused palm. “Nice work, Cadet," he replied. "You handled that well.” It was always enjoyable to see competency in students, and it was the duty of a teacher (even a former teacher) to acknowledge it. Still, these intel types handle things a bit differently than blue-shirts, don’t they? A time for every purpose under heaven…

“Hey, Lieutenant Ashshy,” he hailed, looking at the wispy Vulcanoid. “I’ll follow you back to your office, if you don’t mind, sir. Head needs shrinking.” He smiled. Leaving with most of the others.

Sepeth stood and strode impassively to the door. He regarded Luna's green, extended hand for a moment, then shook it stiffly.

"Miss Konev, you've comported yourself with grace and aplomb in the chaos of a highly intricate scenario. Well done." He paused briefly, then continued, "It has been enlightening to step beyond my everyday duties and into the experience of our communications specialists."

"Why thank you, Lieutenant, I appreciate that evaluation." Luna grinned warmly at his very Vulcan-like compliment. Suddenly, she was homesick for her two best friends and their awkward, logical prattling. "You were most proficient in your role and provided me the information I needed to make my conclusions. Thank you."

He bowed his head slightly to the Orion cadet and moved to the exit as the familiar yellow-on-black optical holonetwork began to supplant the simulated bridge. Left alone in the holodeck, Luna sighed immensely. She was sure she had passed the test, but she really wouldn't know for sure for some time. At the end, she really enjoyed herself. She was aware that the power was intoxicating.

Leaving the room, Luna Konev swore to herself that she would once again sit in the Captain's chair.

OFF: A super-sized Joint Post with a super-sized cast of...

Captain "Captain of her Fate" Luna Konev
Acting Captain of the Normandie

Commander "Master and Commander" Eiri Ashshy
Acting First Officer

Leftenant "Hoist the Colours" Sepeth of Vulcan
Acting Communications Officer

Leftenant "Call me Ishmael" Gerard Garrett
Acting Science Officer

Leftenant "Steady as She Goes" Retol Ayan
Acting Helmsman