Posts of The Month 2004:

 

December 2004:

Yaro # 93 – “Watchers”

By Darby O’Mally

 

ON
==Forested Mountain Region Near Dig Site, Yaro II==
=With above=

He watched with much curiosity as the strange yet familiar others dug into the ground. 

He couldn't possibly imagine what they were looking for, other than food of course. 

He knew that some of his fellow forest dwellers buried food, but he had never seen the

others that looked like these do the same.  The strangers kept appearing out of seemingly

thin air and he scratched his head, more because he had an itch than anything else, but

slightly on account that he couldn't figure out where they were coming from. 

 

One of the tall others, and they were giants, kept walking just inside the clearing. 

He was carrying something in his paw that made occasional funny noises.  The other

would pause and look at it then resume its repetitive pacing.  These others had different

 colored fur as well, let alone skin.  There was one that had blue skin with red and black fur

that seemed to be in charge.  He thought of the chief of his band, who didn't look any different

than the rest of the group. 

 

There was a small noise behind him and he recognized the scent and form of one of his

group.  He was happy now, he could leave, as his relief had arrived.  It was Barkeater, a

senior member of the group. 

 

"Go and tell the others what you've seen," said the older Barkeater.  "I will take your place

watching the new comers." 

 

"It will take some time to get there," replied Treehugger.  He didn't like the idea of such

a long journey.  "Couldn't we just send a relay?" 

 

"It would attract too large a gathering," replied Barkeater and Treehugger nodded at

the elder's wisdom. "If you leave now you should arrive before the light ends."

 

"As you wish elder," replied Treehugger.  He took one last look at the tall strangers and

slipped away into the depths of the forest.  It would take him a while to skirt around where

the strangers were, but once he reached the tree tops the journey wouldn't take as long. 

He had to reach the others before the light faded, for that's when the killers came out of their

dens and stalked his people. 

 

==Several Hours Later==

 

Treehugger paused on the outskirts of the others' settlement.  They were tall like the strangers

and had different colored fur, however their skin was generally a pale color.  He would never

understand why they chose to live on the ground in such odd dwellings.  They seemed unafraid

of the killers as well.  He had made this journey may times, being that he was young, his group

used him to send messages to the others. 

He entered the settlement and walked directly down the widest clearing.  Along the way several of

the others smiled as he passed and attempted to touch him.  It was well known among his group

that some of the other groups had allowed their members to live among the others, but none from

his group had ever done so.  As such he would not stop to let the others touch him. 

 

He rounded a corner and his destination came into view.  He ran through the mental list of things 

not to do while in the presence of the others: Never scare one of them.  Be careful so as to not get

stepped on. (He had been stepped on once and while the other that did so had seemed upset and

concerned for his welfare, he wasn't about to let it happen again.)  Then there was the most important

rule, never do one's business inside the others dwellings.  The others had special rooms that they did

this in and took great offense when a member of his or other groups did so when not outside.

 

He walked quickly now his four legs working to move him towards the opening in the dwelling that

he always entered by.  It was on an upper level of the dwelling and a small set of platforms had

been added to the exterior to allow access to the opening.  With bounding leaps and strides

Treehugger was up the platforms and into the dwelling. The other he was looking for sat, as he

usually did, behind a giant square tree stump.  Treehuggers entrance hadn't gone unnoticed and

the other smiled as he saw him enter. 

 

"Hello there," said the other.  To Treehugger it was non-intelligible and he shook his head. 

The other paused and smiling pulled something out of a piece of square wood.  The other set

it down upon the top of the square stump of wood and looked at Treehugger

 

"Is that better," asked the other.  The strange object seemed to understand what the other

was saying for in a minute it emitted a series of familiar chirps.  Treehugger had always

wondered how they fit one of his kind into the small device, but none-the-less he could

understand its chirps.  It was a slightly different language than his own, but understandable.

 

"Yes," chirped Treehugger.  He waited for the object to speak and in a moment it did,

but in the other's language.  The other's spoke a much more guttural language than his own,

except the females of their species, they had a much more pleasing guttural sounding tone. 

 

"What brings you here my friend," said the other.  He stood and grabbed something from an

opening in an oddly shaped stump that was against a wall.  He offered it to Treehugger, and

Treehugger noticed that it was a piece of dry fruit.  He grabbed it and ate it hungrily, not realizing

how hungry he felt after his long trip. 

 

"Thank you," said Treehugger after he had finished the snack.  "The elders sent me."

 

"Are the killers claiming more of your group," asked the other after Treehugger's chirps had

been translated. 

 

"No, there are more others," replied Treehugger.  The other seemed surprised at this

statement and sat back down motioning for Treehugger to lead onto the square stump. 

Treehugger did so and waited for the other to speak. 

 

"More others," said the other, "where were they?"

 

"Mountains near our settlement," replied Treehugger. "They have funny fur as

well and are digging."

 

"Funny fur, digging," said the Other questioningly.  "You've never seen these

others before?" 

 

"No," replied Treehugger, "one of them has blue skin." The other seemed taken

aback by this and stood quickly.  The move surprised Treehugger and he leaped off of the

stump with a chirp of surprise. 

 

"I'm sorry my friend," said the other, "thank you but I must meet with the others and discuss this." 

 

"I understand," replied Treehugger.  The creatures were called others, because that is how they

always referred to one another.  He nodded as he finally understood their name.  "Before you leave,"

said Treehugger, "where can I sleep?"

 

"Here of course," said the other as it headed for the exit to the room.  "Help your self to any

food that you want."

 

"Thanks," said Treehugger.  The other walked, on two legs, quickly out of the room and

Treehugger spotted his favorite place in the room.  A extremely soft stump that had a red colored

top furry top.  He lept onto the stump and was fast asleep.  He couldn't return to his group until the

light returned. 

 

OFF
Treehugger

As written
by Darby

November 2004:

Post Yaro #90

BY – LT Porik Tullak

On

==Dig Site, Mountain Range, Yaro II==
=One Hour After Above=

It was taking them longer than he had expected. His team was just not familiar enough

with the equipment to move any faster. Lynch was doing his best to help them,

but the ship had no formal archaeological team, so they were all starting off at a

disadvantage. There had been a lot of false starts and immediate stops, but now

things seemed to be moving along. They had exposed a large section of hull and confirmed

what Lynch had guessed. The dig had started by expanding the hole Lynch had already

dug and had produced amazing results. The letters were indeed those of a Starfleet vessel.

"Tullak to Swiftsure," he said tapping his comm badge.

"Go ahead Porik," came the voice of the Captain.

"Captain we've uncovered more of the hull and you're not going to believe this," said Porik.

"Its a starfleet vessel alright, Daedelus class. The registry number is NCC - 104."

"That would confirm Lynch's theory about the ship being there for over two hundred years," replied the Captain.

"There's more sir," said Porik. "Its the Swiftsure." There was a long
pause before the Captain answered.

"Moira tells me that the original Swiftsure was reported lost over two
hundred years ago," said the Captain. "It would seem that she is no longer
lost."

"Yes, Captain," replied Porik. "We're working on opening up the hull as we speak."

"Good, Swiftsure out," replied the Captain. Porik tapped his comm badge shut and moved

back towards where the excavation was continuing.  It was a more dedicated effort now

that they knew what they were working with. It was merely a matter of finding exactly

what part of the ship that they had exposed that would tell them where to dig next.

"I think its part of the engineering hull," said Lynch after looking up from a PADD that

contained the schematics of the older design. "See these markings here and here.

The plating overlay fits as well."

"So where do we have to dig to find a hatch or docking port," asked Porik.

"If I'm correct then about ten meters that way," said Lynch indicating a direction with his hand.

"Let's get to it," said Porik. His team came to life and began moving
equipment around.

==Forty Minutes later==

"We've found something," cried one of his team members. Porik walked over to where the

team was now on its hands and knees in a large earthen hole.  They were removing the final

layer of dirt by hand and exposing what appeared to be another section of hull plating.

"Is it the hatch," asked Porik.

"No but it'll do," replied Tom from inside the hole. "I guess my initial estimates were wrong

but we've found a breech in the hull. It looks big enough to squeeze into."

"Can we widen it without damaging the surrounding regions and causing a cave in," asked Porik.

"I think so sir," replied an Ensign from his team. Porik waited patiently as the operation

continued. After another five minutes had passed he saw Tom grab a respirator

and disappear into the earthen hole. Porik followed him and grabbed a respirator of his

own. He walked over to the hole and climbed down into it. He managed to see

Tom's head disappearing through the freshly cut hole in the ship's hull. Porik got down

on his knees and inched over to the opening and lowered his head into it. The only

light visible was from Tom's hand light.

"Its a mess down here," said Tom. "There's debris everywhere."

"Can you tell where you are," asked Porik.

"I'm not familiar with the deck layouts of a 200 year old starship Porik," retorted Tom,

"but I think I'm standing on a bulkhead wall. The ship must be on its side."

"I'll join you," said Porik. He grabbed a hand light and with some help from Tom below

lowered himself down into the ancient ship. Tom had been right, there were pieces of bulkhead

and wiring everywhere. He moved his light around and found what appeared to be a doorway

beneath them.

"Stand aside Tom," said Porik. He kneeled down and began attempting to pry the door

open. It budged a little, but the years and aging had taken its toll.

Tom joined him and with some effort managed to pry it open. A stale hiss of

escaping air could be heard along with the disruption of several layers of dust. Porik

shined his light into the opening and jumped back.

"What is it," asked Tom.

"Well, we can now safely say that not everyone made it out," said Porik. Tom looked at

him funny then leaned over to look for himself. The human skeleton

stared back up at him, its bones scattered about the room.

"Its only an access closet," said Tom looking back up at Porik. "He must've been

in there when the ship crashed."

"We should try to find the computer core," said Porik.

"Something tells me its not here," said Tom.

"What do you mean," asked Porik.

"Take another look into the access closet again," said Tom. Porik leaned in and shone

his light around the room. The shock of seeing the skeleton had made him unable to view

the rest of what was in the room. He scratched his head and sat up.

"There's no equipment in there," said Porik. "Everything has been stripped

out that was usable."

"Exactly," replied Tom. "My question is, why didn't they remove him?"

"Maybe they were in a hurry," said Porik.

"Maybe it wasn't the crew that removed all this stuff," said Tom.

"That's nonsense," said Porik. "Let's look around a bit more."

"How's it going Lieutenant," said the booming voice of Commander Jat from the

opening in the hull.

"We're going to explore a little further," replied Lynch, "but it looks like everything's

been stripped. That and we found the remains of one of the crew."

"I'll inform the Captain, keep up the search and try to locate a computer terminal, see

if the core is still intact," said the Commander.

"Aye sir," replied Porik and Tom in unison. They stood and shined their hand lights

down the long corridor. It was pitch dark and their hand lights barely made a dent in the blackness.

Tom took the lead and Porik followed,  both being careful to watch where they stepped.

OFF
Lt. Porik Tullak
ACEO
USS Swiftsure

 

October 2004:

Shoreleave #58 “Starting Anew”

BY – ENS Daniel Nelson

 

ON
==Starbase 285,
Docking Bay 43==

Ensign Daniel Nelson exited the airlock of the USS Euphrates and stepped

aboard the docking ring of Starbase 285. A recent graduate
of the academy, the new ensign had traveled almost two months from

Earth to his first posting: The Ambassador Class USS Swiftsure.
Daniel wormed his way through the throng of people toward a Commpanel

on the bulkhead.

"Computer," Nelson commanded. "Give the docking location of the Swiftsure."

"The USS Swiftsure is docked at Docking Bay 12," the base computer replied in

that all too familiar voice. Nelson follows the friendly
pointing arrow on the Comm padd. While walking he began to think about the last

time he was here at this starbase. Before Starfleet.
As he walked down the corridor his eyes keenly watched the individuals in the

crowds. Bajoran, Ferengi, Klingons…most probably
thieves, smugglers, con artist and profiteers.

"And I was one of them," Nelson thought.

But when he was counted as one of their number there was a war brewing. War

always brings people with questionable morals who leech
from everyone for a buck. Now that the war was won the same leeches are back,

this time in sectors that are thinly guarded by the war depleted Federation. Nelson

hoped that the security and Marines stationed in this sector know something about

good, innovative law enforcement.

Daniel finally rounded a corner and saw through a view port the docked Swiftsure.

Even with her running lights off there was a quiet beauty about the ship. A shuttle towing

a very large pallet made its way toward the Swiftsure's rear docking bay. It was hard to see what
was on the pallets but to Nelson they looked like containers for quantum torpedoes.

New teeth on an old dog? "Why not?" Nelson thought. Daniel walked through the airlock

at the dock numbered 12 and was met by a security petty officer who put down his PADD on the
security desk and blocked his way.

 

 "May I help you sir?" the petty officer asked, sizing up the ensign like a piece of meat. Daniel

met his gaze (no fear here, pal)and decided to test him.  Nelson slowly,  one by one dropped

his bags. He could see from the corner of his eye the impatient look from the petty officer and

hear an occasional sigh. The petty officer went back to his PADD until Daniel placed his last bag

on the floor and clasped his hands in front of him.

"I am Ensign Daniel Nelson," Nelson replied, "I'm here to report aboard the Swiftsure."

Daniel nodded toward the security desk. The petty officer was looking at another PADD

that was beside his own. The petty officer picked up Nelson's PADD and examined it as if it
was cursed.

"Well, err..," the petty officer stammered. He then activated the PADD and read Daniel's orders.

"Please report to the executive officer. You will find him on the bridge". The petty officer

handed the PADD to Nelson.

"Thank you petty officer," Nelson replied. "Carry on."

"Aye, sir." The petty officer responded and went to retrieve his PADD… which was

now gone. The petty officer frantically searched around the desk. He then looked horrified

at Nelson who was making a big show of picking up his bags and adjusting them.

"Something wrong?" Nelson asked.

"Sir, I could have sworn that I laid my PADD down on the desk, and then I didn't

see you put you PADD there, but I handed my PADD, I mean your PADD to you and

now mine is …gone."

The petty officer, with his confused look, seemed to be trying to convince himself

that what he just said actually made sense.

Nelson reached behind his back, brought out the petty officer's PADD and

tossed it on the desk. The petty officer gaped back and forth
from Nelson to the PADD.

"Trying to find a handle on the moment?" Nelson asked.

"But I never saw you move from that spot!"

Nelson showed the petty officer both his hands. "You got impatient and therefore

you took your eyes off my hands. Some of the elements that are in this sector would love to

get on a Starfleet vessel for a quick smash and grab; say like those quantum torpedoes

that I think was being loaded aboard ship. All because you were not paying attention. Hands,

feet, flippers, these things can kill you. They conceal weapons and use them when you're not looking. "

"I'm going to report to the XO now but you may work for me one day. I'll give you some

good cop advice. Fear is in the eyes and is a good thing to look for, but action is in the

hands, Mister, “ Nelson said as he walked away, "and fear never killed anyone."

OFF

ENS.
Nelson
Security Officer
USS Swiftsure

 

September 2004:

Shoreleave #42 “In trouble with the Po-Po”

By: LT. Tom Lynch & PO2 Anderson Tigert


On
==Sharky's Bar and Grill, Starbase 285==
=Slightly before Commander Jat's Post=

 

Tom was seated at the bar eying a leggy blonde and sipping at a fresh

mug of ale when he realized that the ale was not synthehol
It hit him all of a sudden like a ton of bricks and his head felt woozy.  He

shrugged his shoulders and continued drinking.  Finishing off the mug of ale

he decided to introduce himself to the fine young specimen of femaledom
He'd tell her all about the things she was missing out on by not being with him.
 

"Hi my name's Tom," he said walking up to her.  "I didn't get yours, but Angel

comes to mind."
 

"The lady's spoken for," said a voice from the other side of the blonde.
 

"Maybe she wants to talk to me," replied Tom to the yet unseen voice. 

"Can't she talk for herself?"
 

"I'm giving you ten seconds to back off, you lush, before I toss you out of this

place," replied the voice.  The owner of the voice got up from
the other side of the bar and Tom's jaw nearly dropped.  The man had to be

six foot six inches at the very least and was rippling with muscles. 
His green trimmed Starfleet uniform was spotless and Tom knew he was in

for nothing but trouble.  Still there was this beautiful girl that
needed his attention.
 

"You'll toss me out will you," replied Tom leaning his head back to look into

the muscle-bound officer's face.  "What if the lady wants to talk to
me?  Its a free station."
 

"That's it," said the tall officer.  He grabbed Tom by the back of the uniform and

launched him towards the door.  The throw almost put Tom out of
the bar, but he landed just shy of the door.  The landing took the wind out of him

and he lay still for a moment, making sure that everything was still intact.
  

"No fighting," yelled the bartender.
 

In a nearby booth two enlisted personnel had been observing the goings on with

what amounted to bemusement at first.  They had recognized their fellow
Swiftsure Officer and had been waiting for a good laugh.  Instead they had seen

him sent flying through the air.  Neither of them found this funny and they
stood up.  Blakesley walked over to where Tom was beginning to pick himself up 

off of the floor and Anderson eyed the large officer that had thrown him.
 

"You better apologize to him," said Anderson to the larger man.
 

"I don't take orders from enlisted pukes," replied the larger officer. "Especially yellow

uniformed ones."
  

"That's all fine and dandy," replied Anderson, "but just a couple of points.  First, striking

an officer is a violation of Starfleet policy, and secondly he out
ranks you by a grade.  That's striking a superior officer which is a higher infraction."
 

"I didn't strike him," began the giant, "I... why am I explaining myself to a pathetic,

rule quoting, Petty Officer?"
 

During the exchange Tom had used the distraction to sneak back to the bar and sit

down next to the blonde.  She had eyed him suspiciously, but he had given
her a disarming wink.  When her large companion spotted him he completely ignored

Tigert and Blakesley and grabbed Tom by the back of his uniform.
 

"You just don't get it, do you," said the man.  "I guess I'm going to have to educate you."
 

"Excuse me," said Anderson tapping the man on the shoulder.  When the giant turned to

face him all he got was a face full of Anderson's fist.  Anderson's fist felt
like it had just hit a bulkhead and the large officer merely stood there looking at him for

a moment.
 

"That was a mistake," said the officer rubbing his chin.  He swung quickly at Anderson, who

luckily ducked, and the punch hit nothing but air.  Anderson
swung back nailing the man several times in the abdomen, but nothing seemed

to affect him.  The next thing he knew he was flying through
the air and smashing into someone seated at another table.  It was at that point

that the all out brawl began.

"I'm calling Station Security," yelled the bartender as chairs and bottles began to

fly through the air.
  

"Excuse me miss," said Tom to the blonde.  He reached over the bar and grabbed

a tall scotch bottle.  He flipped it over so that he was holding it by the
neck and turning lined up the giant officer's head in his sights.  With a big swing the

bottle shattered against the back of the man's head and
he dropped like a stone.  Tom was about to turn and start up a conversation when the

Blonde landed a hay-maker on his chin.  The next thing
Tom knew he was waking up in a holding cell. 
 

"How's your head Lieutenant," said Anderson from across the cell.  He was nursing a

large black eye and holding his ribs. He didn't think  anything was broken but it sure hurt like hell.

"We win," asked Tom.
 

"I think it was an even draw," replied Blakesley from next to Anderson.
  

"What hit me," asked Tom rubbing his jaw.  It was throbbing and hurt every time

he moved it.
 

"Don't know," said Blakesley.
 

"Me either," said Anderson.  He had seen Tom go down, the victim of a perfect blow

to the face by the knockout, liternally he thought, blonde.  It had only been after their arrest

by the Starbase security force, that Anderson had learned that she was a Marine.  He

just didn't have the heart to tell the Lieutenant that he had been knocked out by yet

another female.  The stories about him and Lt. O'Bannon on the ship were almost legendary.
 

"How long we been in here," asked Tom still trying to clear out the cobwebs.
 

"About an hour," said Blakesley.  "Drake's going to have a field day with us," he

added to Anderson.
 

"I imagine your Captain will have a word as well," said a voice from outside their cell. 

They looked up to see a security officer with Lieutenant  Commander's pips on his

collar standing on the other side of the force field.
 

"They were just defending me from that big lummox," said Tom.
 

"Save it for later," replied the Lieutenant Commander, "and I outrank you

Lieutenant.  Let's not forget that."
 

"Yes, sir," replied the three in unison.
 

"I'm calling your ship now to see what your skipper wants done with you,"

said the Officer.  "I'm hoping he leaves you to us." With that the man turned and walked away.
 

"Let's hope not," said Blakesley.  "I don't fancy myself finishing out my tour in a prison

camp doing hard labor."
 

"Thanks," said Tom to the others.
 

"For what," asked Anderson.
 

"For... you know...," replied Tom as he tried to find the right words.
 

"Don't mention it sir," said Blakesley, "we weren't about to let that big gorilla have

his way with you."
 

"So I guess we just have to wait," said Anderson.  He had never been on this side of a

holding cell before and he found that he didn't like it too much.
He found himself reliving his Starfleet career over and over again, and there was only

one conclusion, he didn't want it to end like this.
 

"Yup, we wait," began Tom, "and pray that the Captain can pull some strings."
 

OFF
A joint post by:

Lt. Tom Lynch, ACSciO

&

PO2 Anderson Tigert, Security Guard

August 2004:

Convoy #55 “Did anyone get the…”

By – CDR Margaret Hayes

 

On
==Main Engineering, USS Swiftsure==
=Before, During and After above=

Maggie was busy overseeing the start-up of the main engines and in
bringing the warp core back on line. Her staff was moving about and
beginning the routine when her comm panel chirped. She sighed as she
hit the button to acknowledge the call. She knew who it was and what
he would want.

"Bridge to Engineering," said the voice of the Captain.

"Go ahead Captain," she said. There was an odd edge to his voice, one
that only someone who had spent time with him would know.

"Commander we're about to have company, and something tells me they
aren't friendly. Can you speed up the restart," he asked.

"Not unless you want burned out circuitry and fried components," She
replied. "I'll do my best to hurry things along though," she added
with a sigh. A hurried restart could mean lots of hours swapping out
damaged components. The engines required a gentle woman's touch to get
going again. Not the roughness the Captain was implying.

"Thanks, bridge out," said the Captain. She closed the comm channel and
looked at the screen. They could speed up the pre-heat of the
injectors, and increase the field density in the flow chambers. It
might shave a few minutes off of the total restart.

The red alert klaxons began going off and Maggie groaned. The
Engineering crews began rushing to their stations and she was pleased
that no one ran into one another in the sudden chaos. Porik arrived
with Tom beside him. The two were still wearing their environmental
suits, sans helmets.

"What's going on," asked Porik as he walked over and assumed his
station.

"Don't know," replied Maggie. "Tom shouldn't you be on the bridge?"

"Engineering was on the way," replied Tom. "I'm going Commander," he
added after the look Maggie shot in his direction.

Maggie turned to say something to Porik just as her console exploded in
a shower of sparks. The lights went out and everything went silent.
She thought she had screamed in surprise and thrown her arms up
instinctively to protect her face. She heard Porik moving nearby and
someone activated the emergency lighting.

"What happened," she said in somewhat of a daze. She didn't feel right.
Her head felt foggy and moving was awkward. Her vision was funny as
everything seemed to be in a haze and blurry.

"Commander its okay," said a voice. She thought it was Porik's but it
sounded as though she was in a tunnel. "We'll get you to the floor."
She felt her self being moved to the floor but couldn't make out who it
was that was moving her.

"Am I hurt," she asked. Even her own voice sounded funny to her now.
It was like she was in two places at once. There but not really there.

"Maggie are you.... NO....," said a new voice. It sounded like Matt's
but her hearing seemed to be getting worse. "Get a medical team here
now," yelled the same voice. "Hang on Maggie; we'll get you some
help." There were arms around her now, she was certain of that.
Someone had picked her up and was carrying her.

"What happened," she repeated. Everything felt funny now. Her arms and
feet felt tingly, like they were going to sleep. She felt really tired
and tried to close her eyes several times. Every time though an
annoying voice would wake her up or shake her.

"Stay with me Maggie," said the voice. She fell asleep and the next
thing she knew she was under extremely bright lighting, and thought she
was lying on her back. It was soft, whatever she was lying on, and
she wanted to go to sleep again.

"Stay awake Commander Hayes," said a new voice. "We'll get her
stabilized Captain."

"Do your best Harry," said the other voice. "Maggie I love you,"
continued the voice. She felt something soft and warm touch her
forehead and then disappear. Her vision was very blurred now and she
was only seeing fuzzy outlines and dark shapes. She couldn't focus on
anything other than her need to sleep. If only the voices around her
would allow it.

OFF
CDR Maggie Hayes
CEO
USS Swiftsure

July 2004:

Convoy # 93 “Nerves”

BY – CDR Margaret Hayes


On
==Bridge, USS Swiftsure==
=shortly before, during and after last post=

"Vanderian Shuttle approaching," said the Ensign sitting in the Ops position.

"They're requesting permission to land and disembark passengers."

"Open the Hangar Bay Doors," said Maggie sitting back down in her seat.  She had

paced for the past ten minutes, waiting for the shuttle to return. They were overdue, and

while she had expected them to be late, she wasn't ready for that to become a reality.

"Shuttle has landed," said the same ensign moments later. She had placed the viewscreen

on its aft setting and they had all watched as the small Vanderian Shuttle had entered the Hangar Bay.

"Status of the away team," she said turning to the tactical station.

"Still on the planet," said the Ensign filling in for Lt. Brown. Lt. Brown was comfortably seated

next to Maggie and had, as of yet, to remove himself from it. "I'm tracking them in a heavily

populated area of the planet. They appear to be moving among several large complexes."

"Very well," said Maggie. She sat back down and waited. The Captain should be returning to the bridge

at any second now. Her nerves were getting the better of her at the moment. She didn't like having so

many of the crew's senior staff away on an unknown mission. At least Matt, Harris and Amari were safely back.

The minutes ticked off the chronometer and still no Matt entering the bridge. Why hadn't he returned

directly to the bridge. She tried to think of several reasons why he hadn't and didn't like any of the

ones that came to mind.

"Computer, location of Captain Wayne," she said depressing a button on the armrest of the Captain's chair.

"The Captain is currently in sickbay," replied the computer in its lifeless, Vulcan like, way.

Upon hearing this Maggie's worst thoughts suddenly surfaced. She couldn't sit there anymore and

wait. She had to find out what had happened. She stood and turned to Lt. Brown.

"You have the bridge Mr. Brown," she said and without waiting for a reply was already on her

way towards the turbolift. She didn't notice the smirk and grin Lt. Brown gave her as he stood and

then sat down again in the center seat.

==Sickbay==
=several minutes later=

She tried not to run, tried very hard not to let her emotions run rampant as she approached sickbay.

The doors couldn't open fast enough for her and she nearly bumped her shoulders on them as they opened.

She entered sickbay and looked around. Across the room sat Matt with Harris
standing beside him. She walked over and tried to control the emotion in her voice.

"What happened," she demanded.

"Looks like I owe you a drink," said Matt to Harris. "I'm fine Maggie, just a little motion sick from the ride back."

"We all are," added Amari. Maggie hadn't seen her sitting next to Matt on the biobed. "Their inertial dampeners

aren't as good as ours."

"Oh, is that all," said Maggie with a forced grin and chuckle. "How'd it go?"

"About as good as we expected," said Matt. "The Vanderian Deputy Undersecretary basically gave us the

brush off, after making us wait for a while. What's the status of the other away team?"

"They haven't returned yet," she said. "Our sensors show them moving through a large residential area."

"The entire planet is one densely packed residential area," said Harris. "I've never seen anything like it."

"Their buildings are thousands of feet tall, and built right atop one another," said Matt, "There were

structures as far as the eye could see. That and more atmospheric craft than I think in all of Starfleet."

"
The entire planet must be one giant city," said Amari with a frown. "No open spaces or anything

as far as we could tell."

"You're all set sir," said Harris as he pushed a hypo into the Captain's arm.

"Thanks," said Matt as he hopped off of the biobed. "Shall we," he added to Maggie and indicating

the door.

"Definitely. With everyone gone, Lt. Brown is in charge," she added as they began to walk towards the door.

Her insides were screaming for her to grab Matt and show him exactly how much she had been worried

about him. Sickbay was not the place though. She'd wait until they reached the turbolift, then attack him.

OFF
CDR Maggie Hayes
CEO
USS Swiftsure

June 2004:

Shoreleave #76 “Baptism”
BY – PO3
Anderson Tigert

 

==Helik Falls, Resort Side, Laeya III==
=Shortly Before and During previous two posts=

Tigert returned to watching the falls after Lt. Villant had crept away from him. His nerves were on edge,

it was his first combat assignment since training and he hoped that he would find himself up to the task.

The teams crept back to where he was posted and a nearby guard whispered to him.

Blakesley: Doing okay Tigert?

Tigert: Blakesley that you?

Blakesley: Yeah, get ready we're going to start firing at the base of the falls.

Tigert: Right.

He brought up his phaser rifle and took rough aim to where he thought the intended target was.

He couldn't see all that well in the dark and was wondering how they would pick out their targets in

the darkness. Off to his left there was a sudden yell and all hades broke loose around him. The
darkness was illuminated by the sudden firing of several phaser blasts and as they struck their targets

blindly, it let Tigert see where to aim. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, as he had been trained,

and squeezed the trigger.

His phaser came to life and a brilliant blue beam shot out from the barrel. He watched as it struck what

appeared to be a rock, and then watched as the rock began to glow red hot from the energy it

had absorbed from the phaser.  A hissing noise and a pop emanated from his left and suddenly

night was like day. The flare arced slowly over the falls and he could suddenly see movement.

He began firing again, more rapidly this time, the targets far away and hard to see. There was

suddenly return shots flying over his head and landing around him. Their red beams distinguishing

themselves from his own blue colored phaser blasts. From the sounds of it, the Ferengi's phasers were set
to maximum power. They began to get the range and location and soon their shots were much more

accurate. A sudden yelp and scream came from his right, but his blood was pounding so fast through

his veins that he barely noticed.

Then another set of phaser fire appeared in the target zone, and he watched as another group

of the ship's security guards attacked the Ferengi from their own side of the river. The battle was

brief, but he watched in horror as a guard was hit square in the chest and collapsed. His comrades seemed
to ignore him and Tigert's mind screamed that someone should help this fallen officer. More of the

starfleet officers were down now, as well as most of the Ferengi, and then as quickly as it had started it was over.

The light from the flares was beginning to die away and those standing around him were silouted

shadows against the forested backdrop. The Andorian officer returned and as he walked along the

line kept repeating the following:

Villant: Get ready to beam over to their location.

With that he was gone. Tigert heard several affirmatives in response and moved over to where

Sanchez had been crouched before the firing started.

Tigert: *jokingly* Hey Sanchez, you hit anything? *no answer* Sanchez? *Sees the crumpled from

of Sanchez on the ground* Sanchez?!?

He kneeled down next to the fellow guard and rolled him over onto his back. He inhaled sharply as

he saw that the man's face was missing. All that was left was an empty and smoldering hole, an apparent

lucky shot from one of the Ferengi. His stomach suddenly rebelled at the gore and he retched into
the nearby bushes. He had never seen death before, not like this at least. The young crewman had been so

full of life not minutes before and now he was dead.

Blakesley: *walks over to where Tigert is crouching* Hey Tigert you okay?

Tigert: *weakly* Yeah.

Blakesley: What's the matt...*sees Sanchez's corpse* Oh good god! Come on Tigert, nothing you can

do for him, we're gathering up to beam over. *starts to walk off and notices that Tigert isn't moving*

Tigert move out! That's an order.

Tigert: *snapping out of the fog clouding his mind* SIR!

Training took over, the requirement that had been beaten into their brains in training. Follow orders. His

mind tried to block out the image of the dead Sanchez's body as he stepped along behind Blakesley.

~Focus on what's going on now, forget the past and concentrate on the present~ They reached a
spot where the rest of the party had gathered.

Villant: +tap+ Villant to Swiftsure, beam us to Lt. Brown's side.

Swiftsure: Acknowledged Lieutenant, stand-by.

As the transporter beam began to take hold of him, he kept seeing the empty hole that had been

Sanchez's face. His first combat was not what he had expected, and it looked like there would be more of it to come.

OFF
PO3
Anderson Tigert
Security Guard
USS Swiftsure

May 2004:

Shoreleave #12 “Villant P.I.”

BY – LT Anarax Villant

 

On
==Holosuite 3, Deck 3, USS Swiftsure==

He sat behind the desk, a half empty bottle of whiskey and a shot glass in front of him.

His forty-five sat nestled in its holster on the desk next to the whiskey. It had been a slow day and he

had sent his secretary home early. Business had been good recently but now the profits were starting to
dry up. There was a knock at the door and he saw the outline of someone standing on the other side of it.

“Door’s open,” he said looking up.

A leggy redhead in a knockout blue dress walked into the office. There was a fearful look on her face.

Her dress accentuated all of the positives of her slim figure and he couldn’t help but stare as she entered.

She closed the door behind her and approached the desk.

“What can I do for ya sweetheart,” he said pushing his hat back on his head.

“Mr. Villant,” she began, her voice trembling as the Scottish lilt blurred her words. “I’m in a lo’ o’ trouble

I thin’.”

Sit down and tell me about it,” he replied. He poured himself a shot of the whiskey and drank it down.

It burned, but it let him know that he was still alive. She frowned at this and made for the chair.

Som’ men are after me Mr. Villant, I need protection,” she said. She made to sit down but noticed the

layer of dust covering the chair and thought otherwise.

“Sorry, the maid doesn’t come in until Wednesday,” he replied with heavy sarcasm. “Protection, huh,

that sounds more like a job for the police.”

“I canna go ta the police Mr. Villant,” she said eyeing the door. “There are many reasons why. I canna

go into detail jus noow. I need your help.”

“You worried someone might kidnap you, or do you just like my door,” Anarax said leaning back

further in his chair.

Ya humor is nae verry funny Mr. Villant. I canna see tha’ coming here was a mistake,” she replied and

started towards the door.

Before she reached it however it opened and a man wearing a blue with white pin stripe suit entered.

He had mafia written all over him. The dame let out a scream and backed away from the door. The suit

entered; his 45 in hand. He looked around the room and rested his eyes on Anarax.

“Keep your hands where I can see them Villant,” snarled the suit. His 45 auto was pointing directly at

Anarax chest. “Alright missy you’re coming with me.”

“No,” she replied with a panicked look, “I’m nae going anywhere with you.”

“Alright let’s take it easy here before someone ends up with lead poisoning,” said Anarax. “Just

lower the rod and let’s chat awhile.”

Ain’t no chattin needed,” replied the suit. “She’s comin with me.”

He reached over and grabbed her arm and pulled her towards him. Things happened quickly

after that, she grabbed his gun arm and slammed her foot down on his foot, while at the same time

bringing her elbow hard into his midsection. The suit dropped the gun and howled in pain. She finished by
hip tossing the suit halfway across the room. He landed hard, shattering a chair. He lay in a heap and let

out a low moan.

Anarax was out of his chair quickly and standing over the crumpled form of the suit. Tom was

holding his ribs and breathing hard. Moira rushed over and kneeled down next to him. Her face

was a mask of shock and remorse.

Och, Tom I’m soo sorry,” she said removing his fedora. His face was a mask of pain and he tried

to smile weakly. “It was just instinctive, training….,” her voice trailed off as he looked up at her.

“That….wasn’t in the script,” he replied through gritted teeth. “That’s twice you’ve done this

to me now.” She placed her hand on his head and tried to comfort him.

Villant to transporter room,” said Anarax tapping his communicator.

“Go ahead Lieutenant,” came the reply.

“I need an emergency medical transport to sickbay, three persons from this

location.”

“Aye, sir,” came the reply. As the transporter beam grabbed them he heard Moira

apologize for what seemed like the tenth time.

OFF
Lt. Anarax Villant
CSecurityO
USS Swiftsure

April 2004:

Moldak #42 “Harry’s Dream”

BY – LT Harris Leeds, MD

 

On:

==Sickbay, USS Swiftsure==

=During and After the Party=

 

Harris had meandered back to sickbay after leaving the party.  It was quiet and unexciting,

no patients to treat or staff issues to handle.  In fact the staff was at a bare bones level,

most being at the party still.  He was reading over several PADDs on his desk.  There was nothing

of interest there, just routine medical reports submitted by his staff for him to approve and sign off on.  

 

He got up with a sigh and left sickbay, headed for his quarters.  As he walked he couldn't help but

realize how tired he felt.  His shoulder ached and he massaged it with his other hand.  He entered

his room and decided on a spot of tea before settling in for the evening. 

 

"Computer, Tea Hot," he said standing in front of the replicator.

 

"Please specify variety," came the monotonic female voice of the computer.

 

"Oh," Harris said scratching his head, "just surprise me."

 

"I'm sorry that variety is currently unavailable, please restate request," was the computer's reply.

 

"Oh bloody 'ell. Stupid thing, guess I didn't really want tea after all," Harris said to no one in particular. 

 "Computer cancel request."

 

He walked over to his bed and got in.  He felt exhausted and within minutes he was sound asleep. 

At first he slept soundly, but then the nightmare came.

 

He was back aboard the Repulse, in sickbay.  All around him there was utter chaos and gore.  The ship

shuttered as it took another hit.  Harris looked around in a daze, there were casualties everywhere.

The lights flickered as yet another hit shook the vessel. The auxilary lights came on, main power was out. 

 

A human crewmember walked up to Harris holding a bloody stump of what used to be his forearm. 

Another Vulcan crewmember stared at Harris in confusion, part of their skull missing.  They were all

looking at him, expectantly. They wanted him to make them well. Harris looked about desperately for

something to help them with but could find nothing. Another explosion rocked the ship and his vision

blacked out.  

 

Suddenly he was in a corridor being pushed along from behind.  The ship was on emergency power

now, as only very dim lights illuminated the corridor.  He heard the Captain's voice saying over and

over again "Abandon Ship".  He was being pushed into an escape pod, he hesitated then crawled in. 

He watched in horror as the person pushing him was nearly severed in half by an explosion. His vision

went dark.

 

He was in the escape pod.  In the distance he could see the Repulse being ripped apart in her

final death throes. The explosion sent shockwaves though the pod.  He watched helplessly as a

Cardassian warship closed on his pod and he closed his eyes and waited for the searing heat of

death to claim him. 

 

There was a shove from behind now, opening his eyes he realized that he was on his knees and his

hands were shackled behind his back. He was alive.  In front of him stood a menacing looking

Cardassian.  A disrupter was pointed directly at Harris's chest. He waited for the painful blast but the

Cardassian merely smiled and leaned in close to Harris's face.

 

"For you my friend the war is over," said the Cardassian and began laughing. The laughing continued

and was picked up from behind.  

 

The next thing Harris knew he was awake in his quarters aboard the Swiftsure, drenched in sweat

and clutching his bedsheets.

 

OFF

Lt. Harris Leeds, MD

CMO

USS Swiftsure

March 2004:

Moldak #2

BY – LT (JG) Tom Lynch

 

On

==Jeb's Tavern, Resort area==

=Starbase 285=

 

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME???!!!" came a yell of obvious disgust.  The heads of several patrons at Jeb's

swiveled in unison to find the source.  A small group in the back of the bar could be seen getting up and

heading towards the door.  The voice of the yeller was quieter but still audible as they exited. 

 

"We just got here, I haven't even unpacked yet," said Tom.

 

"Well," replied Maggie with a smirk. "It shouldn't take you too long to get back aboard then, should it?"

 

"How's that phrase go," added Harris. "Ah yes...  'Tis not ours to ask why but to do or die." Laughs and

pats Tom on the back. "We are purely at the whim of Starfleet and the Captain my friend."

 

"Doesn't mean I have to like it," came the reply from a still upset Tom.

 

As the group left Jeb's they headed back to their respective rooms to gather up their things and

beam back to the ship.  Tom and Harris were sharing a room so they headed in the same direction.

 

"It must be something important," said Tom. "They wouldn't cut our leave short for some sort of

Bee Ess would they?"

 

"Won't know until we get back now will we," replied Harris.

 

"You will, I won't," Tom added shaking his head. "P'Moll doesn't share information too freely.  I'm

always hearing things second and third hand."

 

The arrived at their room and entered.  Their luggage was still exactly where the porter had left it.  

Tom grabbed his duffel and opening it tossed in a menu from Jeb's.  When Harris looked at him

funnily he mumbled "proof we were here" and went back to securing his duffel. 

 

"Ready Tom?"

 

"No, but go ahead."

 

Harris tapped his comm badge.

 

"Lieutenant Leeds and Lynch ready to beam up."

 

"Stand-by Lieutenant," came to reply. "That seems to be a popular request at the moment. 

Okay, energizing."

 

The two dissolved in the transporter beams golden shimmer only to reappear in aboard the

Swiftsure in Transporter Room Two.  They nodded to the transporter chief and headed to their

quarters.

 

The transporter chief touched his comm panel and opened a channel with the bridge.

 

"Commander Jat, the last of the crew just beamed aboard."

 

"Very well," came the cold reply.

 

Jat closed the channel and stood up from the Captain's chair.  He walked over to where Lieutenant

O'Bannon sat at the Conn and stared for a brief second at the view screen.

 

"Set course for the Moldak System, warp Five."

 

"Moldak System," came the Scottish blur of O'Bannon. "Aye, sir."

 

The view on the main screen shifted as the Ambassador Class vessel broke orbit and went into

warpJat walked slowly back to the center chair and sat down.  Pressing an armrest button he

opened a channel to the Captain's ready room.

 

"Captain, all crew aboard and we are underway."

 

"Excellent EX OH, remind the senior staff of our briefing," pauses to look at his chronograph,

"in one hour and five minutes. Captain out." 

 

"Yes sir," said Jat as he closed the channel and resumed his icy stare towards the

view screen.

 

OFF

 

Lt. (Jg) Tom Lynch

Asst. Chief Science Officer

USS Swiftsure

 

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