Distortion

 Episode Name:  Distortion

   Written By:  Fortunae

         Cast:  Caeli, Fortunae, Harris, Javits, Medes, Nevaren, Nolte, Shaft 
                and Valen.

  Produced By:  Starfleet

  Directed By:  Fortunae

     Aired On:  Sat Jul 19 02:55:55 2003

     Stardate:  53371

Time: Fri Jul 18 20:44:40 2003

Stardate: 53370.4

Spinning slowly against the backdrop of space, DS-121 shows signs of its age and that it is nearing the end of his operational existence, off color hull patches being the most direct clue. The lights are shining bright from the view ports though and additional lights come on as the runabout Cape Fear nears and angles for a docking posture, the vessel too large for the modest shuttle bay of the remote station...

< Mission Commander, Lieutenant Nevaren's log, Stardate 53370.3. S419 has been tasked to lend engineering support to Subspace Relay Station DS-121 as an add-on mission to a regular re-supply run to the crew of four serving on the relay station. Ensign Nolte has been assigned to supervise the cargo manifest and transfer coordination with the supply crewman on the station, with Lieutenant Harris in charge of the flight mission. The flight out to DS-121 was without incident and having just received clearance to dock, the Cape Fear is coming in for final approach and soon we can get down to work. >

<CONTEST> Harris contests his Shipboard Systems (Flight Control) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

...within the Cape Fear Lieutenant Harris checks the status board on his terminal and with deft skill docks to the clamp without even a hint of secondary impact or shudder. Within moments the docking portal cycles and the runabout door flashes green showing that the vacuum seal is secure and it is safe to open the hatch and debark on DS-121.

Nolte works at a console beside Harris in a rather typical fashion. Which is to say, head-down and utterly focused.

"Smooth as silk and twice as fine," Harris states with a nod, refraining from the mandatory fistpump and shout of success. After all, he's a flyboy - his ego is supposed to be huge.

Nevaren taps off the log from his position at one of the rear consoles, grinning to himself. Mission Commander. He /still/ likes the sound of that. Has a nice ring to it. He stands, tugging at his Uniform just as Harris expertly nudges the runabout against the docking Clamp. "Well, we made it one piece," he jokes. He slings his toolkit and satchel over his shoulder. "Everyone ready?"

Valen steps up from the back of the runabout. "I double-checked the docking seals. We're airtight, sir", she says.

Caeli sits cross-legged on the floor in the back of the runabout, another boy playing with his toys. In this case, field-stripping and checking the phaser complement of the shuttle. He chimes up from his seat, never looking away from the tools at hand, "Ready and rarin' ta go, sir."

Nolte responds, quite simply. "Aye, sir."

Medes rolls her eyes at Harris behind his head. "Yeah, yeah, flyboy. That's a real impressive /docking job./ Let me fan myself. I can't take the impressiveness." Her tone is playful, however; only a very little tiny micron of her mocking is anywhere near sincere. She stands from her place at one of the other rear consoles and hefts her tool kit as well; her expression becomes all professional, no joking around at all as she looks back at Nevaren. "Yes, sir."

A smirk is directed at Medes. "Hey - back in my day, we had two strings and a big rudder to steer with," Harris teases as he deactivates the console and comes to his feet. "You're lucky I know where the on button is." He grins, and then nods at Nevaren. "Ready as I'll ever be."

Nevaren nods to everyone, impressed. "Excellent. If you don't have your gear, people, Grab it." He looks to Harris, who isn't just their pilot but their communications officer as well. "Tell Them we're ready to come aboard, Mr. Harris. I'm sure they know that but, well, it pays to be polite... Right?"

Caeli scrambles up, and sets about distributing the products of his labors to the away team members. Type I's for everybody, because Zip believes in being prepared. And following SOP.

Valen steps into the back of the runabout, coming back up to hand Zip a Type II. She also has one.

"Lieutenant Caeli, incidentally, do you have a lack of confidence in my abilities?" Medes wonders, as she accepts her Type I from him.

Nolte goes quietly about getting prepared, giving Harris a pretty wide berth even as she has to come pretty near him to get at a piece of her gear. There, done.

"Aye, sir... ringing the doorbell." Harris leans back over to his console and reactivates it to tab the communications commands. "Runabout Cape Fear to DS-121. We've arrived on our standard resupply mission with a team of engineers in tow. Please respond."

Caeli cants his head to one side as he clips his Type II to his belt. His response comes in a curious tone. "In engineering, or weapons maintenance, Lieutenant?"

Over the communication system a youngish sounding male voice responds, "A-firm-ative Cape Fear, you are cleared to commence debarking. Welcome to Diss-One-To-One."

Valen steps back towards the hatch. She just stands near it for now. It's Nevaren's call on when it's to be opened, after all.

"Part of my job /is/ weapons maintenance, Lieutenant, and the question remains. Do you have a lack of confidence in my abilities as vehicle maintenance engineer to keep the shuttle fully and properly stocked with working phasers as per the responsibilities of my job? Because if you do, my boss is right here, you could issue a complaint to him," Medes replies calmly, staring directly at the Bolian.

Nevaren thanks the ever ready Zip and his sidekick Valen with a smile and a nod, slipping the phaser into the small holster on his belt. Yay. Now he has a spare welder. Engineers, they can turn any weapon into a tool. "Zip, you know better then to ask her that. You may maintain them, but she can /build/ them. Probably bigger and better, too." He looks over his shoulder as Harris gets their response. "Excellent. Lets get the show on the road then, as they say. Mr. Valen, you wish to Cycle that airlock for us?"

. o O Medes is /furious./

Valen calls up, as if replying to Medes. "Zip's just double-checking to satisfy himself, Lieutenant... he's a pain in the butt that way, sometimes", she says with a grin.

Caeli shakes his head to Medes as he steps back toward the airlock. "Not a chance, Lieutenant. But it's a long flight from 4-1-9, and after a while looking at star fields gets boring." He flashes an apologetic grin before nodding to Nevaren.

"Acknowledged, 121. We'll see you shortly. Cape Fear, out." Tabbing off the communications channel, Harris straightens up and tugs on his uniform, getting ready to go.

Nolte steps in to wait, oh-so-serious about her job.

Valen keys the controls by the doors. A moment later, they cycle open and the zakdorn steps back to let someone else go first.

"Next time you feel like disassembling something that's part of my responsibility to maintain, Lieutenant, perhaps you'll discuss it with me. Perhaps next time you're bored you can review procedures in this area rather than creating extra work for the engineers who now will, according to my SOP for maintenance, have to run a complete diagnostic of those phasers, since they were 'worked on' in the field." Valen's words are acknowledged only with raised eyebrows and a backwards glance. Apparently Medes doesn't think too much of the idea that she needs her engineering work 'double-checked' by someone other than her bosses; her expression makes that clear.

Nevaren chuckles at the banter, stepping towards the security officers and the airlock. "Okay, people.. Play nice and Stow it, okay?" he asks, with a hint of amusement. "Once we're on board, and have met with the locals, we'll go off to our assigned duties. you all know your jobs. Ensign Nolte you have the cargo manifest and transfer. Mr. Medes, you and I are glorified grease monkeys with the receiver and retransmission equipment. You know. Working our brand of Magic. As for the others? You can help out where you are needed, of course." He grins. No need for antigravity units today.

As the Cape Fear's airlock cycles and then opens, the immediate first sensation that comes is an olfactory one. The air here, though not foul, does have the discernable (to those in the know of such things) tinge of refresher filters nearing the end of their processing life -- and to anyone else it has a slightly "tinny" scent.

Aside from the air, the sight beyond the door is a rather drably decorated chamber with a stand alone security station directly across from the hatch and off to the right a two pad transporter station. Standing behind the security station is a young male humanoid, wearing operations gold and with the rank pin of a Petty Officer Second Class. Beside the Petty Officer, an older humanoid male also in operations gold but with Engineering coveralls and the rank insignia of an enlisted Chief stands. Separate from those two stand two officers, closer to the door but off toward the right a few steps from the security console -- humanoids as well, the male with the pip of an ensign and command branch red and the female wearing the rank display of a 4th year cadet, or midshipman in operations gold. The officers smile as the first faces appear, the Petty Officer maintains an expression of watchful suspicion and the Chief looks rather... relieved.

Medes's nostrils flare slightly as she sniffs the air, and her mouth flattens briefly into a line; the diminutive Engineer hefts her toolkit, changing its placement in her hand as she draws up on Nevaren's right side. Her expression smooths out into neutrality, and remains thus thereafter.

Caeli just nods, pursing his lips and taking Medes' reprimands like a good little junior officer. He checks his phaser once again in its holster, and heads over to his sidekick. Every Batman needs his Robin, every Caeli needs his Valen.

Nolte has never seen such a sight, and so it takes her at least two or three sweeps of dark eyes to gather all of the details of the area in, which she does with care. A professional smile to those waiting for them.

Nevaren's nose scrunches a bit at the smell as he steps out first from the airlock. Oi. They're going to have to fix that, pronto. He Albino spots the relay's crew and, with a smile, walks over to them, and especially the one with the pips denoting him or her as the highest ranking officer, and Introduces himself. "Hi. Lt. Nevaren, Assistant Chief Engineer of Upsilon 419 and mission Commander." He motions to his people behind him as they file out. "This is My Crew. My Second in Command, Lt. Thea Medes. Systems Manager, Lt. Harris. Security Officers Lt. Caeli and Lt. Valen. And Ensign Nolte, who will be handling the cargo transfer."

Valen is the last off, and didn't seem to notice the smell. Zakdorn olfactory senses are a bit 'less' than a human's, in some respects. Lucky for her.

Medes nods her head once as she's introduced, and raises an eyebrow just so at the revelation that this Ensign is the facility commander. She looks up at Nevaren, waiting for direction patiently.

Valen glances over at Caeli, waiting until she catches his gaze for a heartbeat.

Nolte steps forward to report to Hurley, smiling vaguely. Maybe that's the girl from physics.

Caeli beams a smile to Dur, and heads over to the other Bolian. "Hey! I'm Zip. Let's see if we can't help them get a handle on those supplies," he addresses the NCO in the chattery, rapid-fire tongue that is Bolian.

Nevaren takes the whole thing in stride. Really, Relays always have strange rankings and he is used to it. Besides, Jocaba /is/ the only officer in the group. "Of course. Sounds like a plan to me." He turns to his people. "Zip.. Valen? Please assist Ensign Nolte and Mr. Dur." He looks to Thea and Harris. "Mr. Medes? You and Mr. Harris are with me. Lets take a look at what they got."

Valen follows along after Zip, being as she's not been given other instructions.

PADD in hand, Harris looks over the manifest of the things that are being dropped off today - double-checking that everything got loaded. A smile is offered to the crew of the relay, and then he's back to work.

Valen's 'other instructions' come as she follows after 419's security bolian. She acknowledges with a nod of her head to Nevaran, and an "Aye, sir."

Jocaba says with a slight shyness to his smile as he does so, "It's a real honor to have such... famous officers come out here to help us out, I was expecting maybe an ensign and a few technicians, not the DCEng of S419 and of course the Fimdari famous Lieutenant Medes. Please forgive the, humbleness of our greeting, like I said, we weren't really expecting high ranking officers to come out here on this. Anyway... if you three would follow me, if you have any baggage Dur can unload it or the Chief can take your took kits if you like.." He gestures toward their engineering kits and then turns on his heel to lead the way out of the room toward the double doors that open into the hallway running down the habitat module.

Midshipman Hurley flashes a respectful but friendly smile to Nolte as she approaches, "How do you do, sir?" She then makes a confused expression, the sort you might make if you recognize someone but cannot place it.. but she's not looking at Nolte as she does, but toward Harris - but only for a long moment before she tears her eyes back to the Command branch ensign before her. "You have your manifest already, sir?"

Dur returns the smile and greeting from Caeli, giving an askance look toward the unexpected appearance of a Zakdorn on the mission team. "It is a very nice pleasure to meet you sir, I am doing exceptionally well today, I hope that we will finish this unloading quickly so we may spend some time socializing in the lounge, I unpacked some board games for that purpose just in case, and I have a unloading plan prepared that might speed things up if you don't think it was too much of an impropriety, sir. I am Petty Officer Dur of course, but you may call me Dur if you like and I will call you sir, because you have earned it and I am very happy to see an officer from Bolarus here, yes I will be sure to include that in my personal log, indeed."

Chief Coal, looks at the engineers and at their tool kits and as the Ensign turns to move away he makes not motion to take them from the Lieutenants -- not seemingly because he's adverse to doing so, but more like he certainly knows better.

Valen nods to the 'new' bolian, waiting for Zip to handle introductions.

If he noticed the confused look from the midshipman, Harris makes absolutely no indication as he falls in next to Nevaren. "Lead on, Lieutenant," he offers with a grin. "This is your field."

Caeli waves a hand dismissively, patting Dur reassuringly on the shoulder. "Call me Zip," he instructs, "And let's see the plan you've got. A little rec time would go over nice and easy after that shuttle ride."

Nevaren chuckles at Harris, nodding. "I guess it is, at that, Mr. Harris." He tightens his grip on his toolkit and satchel, content on carrying them himself and shoots a loot at Medes as they begin to Follow the ensign. "So, how's life in the spotlight, Thea?" he asks, jokingly.

Petty Officer Dur looks shocked... nearly stricken, and blandishes, "Oh... sir... I'm not sure if I could call you Zip, unless it was an order then I would have to obey it, I mean.. you're an /officer/ sir."

Nolte offers the midshipman a slightly (slightly!) more confident smile. She -is- the girl from... somewhere. No matter. It's connection enough that Nolte lets the professionalism down just a notch for the other young human before her.

Valen grins, nudging Zip in the side with an elbow. "Just call him Zip... I wouldn't want to see it go to his head, after all", she says, with a playful tone in her voice.

Medes looks vaguely baffled and somewhat nonplussed at being called 'Fimdari famous,' she coughs and mumbles something before following along after Nevaren. "Er. You know. It's." Cough.

. o O Medes thinks "Fimdari famous. I hate that planet! And why am I Fimdari famous, anyway? I got my medals for Occa..."

Caeli smiles warmly to the other, slightly shorter Bolian. "I'm an officer, Zip and Sir are both one syllable, and there's a job to do. So in the interests of getting this done quickly, let's go with a personal preference. I'm Zip, you're Dur. Iioln?" You know, Iioln. It's like capice, but Bolian instead of Italian.

Ensign Jocaba leads the visitors from S419 down the corridor of the habitat module, past the administration office on the left and down to the end of the passage to a door labeled in neat Starfleet Stencils "Main Control Room". Once inside, the four work stations are seen to dominate the room and which belongs to which person assigned to the facility is inferred perhaps by the decor on them. The closet one has a very comfortable looking non-regulation chair, is free of clutter except for a picture of a handsome woman and three children of various ages smiling. The one beyond it has a small group of books that are held up with bookends and seem to consist of titles relating to Starfleet tactical and Strategic doctrine as written by famous retired Starfleet Officers, and beside the stack of books is a miniature bell hanging on a stand with some sort of brass plaque upon it. Another has several cute plush toys on display in a location that would keep them from sight of the main view screen when it's activated and a small calendar with black X's marking off days of the week; and finally the last desk has a model of a sailing vessel with small blue hued sailors upon it that actually seems to rock back and forth on mechanical waves.

Jocaba moves over to the station with the bell and begins to pull open files while speaking, "About two weeks ago we started getting this feedback like signal into our array, we tried to track the source externally after diagnostics failed to turn up everything. It's not constant, but it's about seventy percent of the time, not on the standard subspace channels either, I would guess something on a deeper wavelength then we normally use, but we don't use that level because we cannot maintain signal integrity. We've tried to find some sort of pattern in the pulses but so far haven't been able to, though one of the tests Hurley ran actually caused a fatal logic error in the subsystem and the Chief speak the better part of this last week fixing that. We have all the data recorded though, and of course we are due for some standard scheduled maintenance as well."

Nevaren raises an eyebrow as Jacoba explains the ins and outs of the one major problem they have aside from their maintainence call. "We will, of course we will look at it. Seventy percent of the time, you say? And it's an external signal? Thats strange that it could cause an internal logic failure."

"Extremely strange," Harris chimes in, eyebrow perked. "Unless it's some kind of... oh, I don't know. Heavily encrypted transmission that's compatible with LCARS programming logic. 'Course, the computer would be able to identify it if it was anything like that." He adds a note to his PADD to add subspace theory to his already extensive reading list.

Medes wrinkles up her forehead, and for the moment, says nothing. One can almost see the little gears turning in her head, lights flashing on her internal displays. Computing... computing...

Chief Coal pipes up, "Would any of you Sirs care for something from the replicator? Coffee perhaps?"

Jocaba moves away from his station, "You can use my workstation if you like, or any of the others I just keyed you in for basic access based on your clearance levels."

. o O Harris thinks "Poor kids. They've probably been going batty trying to figure out the problems here."

"Sure... although I warn you now, I'm a better pilot than comms officer." Harris grins as he heads over to a console, gaze cast to the Chief for a moment. "And sure, some coffee would be great. I don't suppose you can coax an Irish Creme latte out of the replicator here?"

Coal says, "I can coax a latte, and I have a bottle of Bailey's in the lounge."

Jocaba, widens his eyes and shoots Coal a "Belay that stuff mister" expression.

Coal, smiles graciously in response to the warning glare but keeps his gaze focused on Harris.

"Coffee, please, two creams, no sugar." Medes glances aside at Nevaren, having been pulled out of her reverie by the offer of caffeine, and slides into a seat before a terminal. "No, let's go with your idea first; we'll see what we come up with."

Coal nods and then sets off to fetch coffee for the Lieutenants, passively amused at the embarrassed annoyance of Ensign Jocaba. Jocaba in the meanwhile assumes a leaning and paying attention posture where he can watch what is being done by the experienced engineers without getting in the way.

Shaft goes home.

Shaft has left.

After some time has passed, back in the docking area the last few boxes of supplies are set down and checked off the respective lists of Nolte and Hurley, allowing Valen, Caeli and Dur some respite from lifting and shifting. Dur pipes up, "Now that we have the cargo finished, I was supposed to ask one of you officers from security if you would check out my quarterly on the tactical systems configuration -- I need a rated officer to sign off on it and Ensign Jocaba is... well, he's a Command Branch officer, are either of you perhaps Tactical Officers?"

Hurley beams as the lists match up and she asks Femke quietly, "Uh... that Lieutenant Harris... hmmmm, do you know where he's from? He looks really familiar but I just can't place why."

Valen grins. "I'm four-one-nine's tactical duty officer, actually... and I'd be glad to help", she replies.

Nolte responds, a bit of colour in her cheeks, suddenly. Eyes flick up, down. "Sol Three, Mister Hurley. Arizona region of the Americas."

Caeli grins, himself. "Let's see if you can get this right, Jy."

Valen grins. "I'm better at this than you are, Zip", she replies. Looking back to Dur, she asks, "Show me what you have?"

Dur bobs his head, "Well then you're no doubt more than qualified... ummm... there is some prolonged climbing involved... that isn't going to be a problem is it, sir?" Dur gives Valen a speculative once over, Zakdorn not famous for their athletic acumen generally.

Caeli twists his lips into a wry smirk. "Not a problem, Dur, and if it is... I'll just carry her." Wouldn't be the first time.

Valen hms... climbing. /That/ made her pause. "I don't guess it will. You coming along, Zip?", she asks of her fellow security officer, after rolling her eyes at his remark. "You need a rated tactical officer to check you over every quarter, you said?"

Hurley makes an expression of mental searching and then shakes her head with a little frustration; "That doesn't really help much then. Darn it, I'm usually so good at placing people." She looks over toward the security types, "Looks like they are going to climb to the phaser bank placement, in the meantime, we can go to my quarters and I can get you that holovid we were talking about if you want?"

Petty Officer Dur looks over Caeli and just nods, not expanding on his reaction to the statement about carrying the Zakdorn. He then looks back to Valen, "Yes sir -- once a quarter, usually the ship they have swing by with the resupply sends an officer over to check the PADD work and sign off on it for me. I can service and operate the phaser banks, but an officer needs to confirm it's up to spec for administrative purposes."

Caeli shrugs, stretching out his shoulders. "If you want me to, Jy. Don't want to cramp your style or anything."

Dur adds, "Which is great for me because I get to meet many fine officers that way."

Valen nods. "Well... we /are/ closer than Dulcais. It'd be easier for us to get people out here on that regular a basis... and being as we /are/ closer, it might be more fitting for one of my crew to take care of your tactical sign-offs", she says, pulling out a PADD to make a note of the idea.

Valen pauses in her note-taking. "Unless you'd rather have your regular supply ship keep coming by?", she asks of Dur... then gives Zip her 'you /are/ coming along' look.

Caeli knows that look. That's the 'I hate heights please come with me' look. Zip smiles knowingly and squeezes Valen's shoulder. "Sure, a climb would do me some good."

Valen says, "and Dur... call my Jylo. This is /your/ post. You're the chief tactical and security officer, here. We're just here to help."

Dur hedges, "Well, that sort of thing is beyond my discretion sir, but I'm open to whatever command deems best -- trust in your officers I always say! Starfleet is the best of the best and the officers better still, I'd be a Flebzak to give them anything but my complete trust and support -- unlike politicians you know. Why, my Aunt Marza was telling me just the other day that maybe politicians should have to go through a strict entrance and training regime like Starfleet has it's officers do -- the best go off into space and sometimes die defending the Federation while the less than best get into politics, except when former Starfleet do, and of course if they weren't good enough to be /in/ Starfleet, why are they good enough to make policy that Starfleet has to carry out? Makes no sense to me I tell you and... oh, I'm blathering sorry. Should we go?"

Valen grins. "Well, I'll bring it up to my chief when we get back to station, and see what he thinks, Dur.... let's go?"

Nolte says, "Absolutely, Mister Hurley. Lead the way."

Nolte straightens her uniform and prepares to follow the other young woman to fetch the recording. She is professionally genial. It's nice to play with children your own age

With that Petty Officer Dur nods crisply heads for the double door that lead out of the docking bay with the oher security types in company, after they depart Midshipman Hurley says, "Keen. This way then." She leads Femke out of the docking area and down the passage until reaching the first quarters on the right side of the passage and opening it up for herself and Nolte. Inside the room is covered, practically wallpapered really, with framed photos of scores of people, some images of popular male vocalists, her acceptance letter to Starfleet Academy, and oher odds and ends of youthful decoration. The bunk, standard issue, has been covered by a very non-regulation comforter and pillow cases, as well as a small guerilla band of stuffed animals. The chamber smells of flowers and clean linen. Hurley moves directly to her desk and starts moving things around, tossing some items on the bed, one of which is a raher think and generous in size photo album in a faux blue leaher with silver trim, this flops open as it bounces on the bed and the young midshipman keeps digging for her holovid recording disc.

Nolte simply can't help herself. The Andorian coming out in her-- there is no personal space in a lodge. She peers over to the open book, as if somehow it's presence in a book makes the contests much more delicious than Johnny Alto's crooning face.

Hurley seems to pay no heed to Nolte's book viewing, instead she mutters as she continues to shift things around, now digging through the drawers of her desk.

Nolte mentions, a bit casually, "I see you had a lot of friends. Maybe you knew my brother. He was quite the man about the Academy." While flipping, with no real human regard for Privacy. Such is the social awkwardness of growing up alien.

Without looking back Christine says, "Maybe, who's your brother?"

Nolte says, "Rishin Ivari. He was a tall man, very handsome. Andorian. President of the Engineering society, he ah. Was supposed to be the valedictorian."

<CONTEST> Nolte contests her Search skill vs a difficulty of Routine and Dramatically Succeeds!

Hurley rises up holding a disc case in hand triumphantly, "Found it!" Then she pauses, as if connecting the name to something else and she turns and looks over her shoulder with a softer expression, "Did he die during the bombing... things were so chaotic after that, with the various schools being moved around Earth to temporary facilities, I'm afraid... well."

Nolte keeps talking, though her eyes open a bit wider. Dear -God-. What in hell and high seas--! Though her voice stays earnest. "He did. My best friend, and a great man. It looks as if you may have lost a few people along your way. I admire people who can make.. so many friends."

Hurley tosses her hair, making the ponytail weave behind her head as she sits down on the bed near where Nolte is looking at her book, and she makes the "Ah yes" expression. "Oh, yeah. That is my scrapbook, but that part you are looking at right now, that isn't my stuff -- those are my grandmother's era. See, She was in Starfleet, Granddad too, and then later on you have my Father's time at the Academy and then mine, and when I have kids and they go to the Academy while I'll pass it on to them. We have a long tradition of serving in the fleet. It's kind of funny to see the old uniforms and so on, especially when some of those people in there went on to become famous and you read about them at the Academy."

Christine adds, "The story of my grandmother and grandfather is sort of romantic and sad though, should I tell you?"

Nolte sits on the foot of Christine's bed. She looks very seriously at her, for a long moment, and flips the album to a precise page, with a precise picture upon it. She places her finger to the corner of a clear photo. "Is this them?"

Christine looks and says immediately, "Oh yes or course and... hey!" She laughs girlishly, "Now I know where I saw that Lieutenant before -- how funny. I mean, they /really/ look alike, well, this one is younger but now I understand why he looked so familiar even if he's not the same person."

Medes goes home.

Medes has left.

Medes walks on set.

Medes has arrived.

Nolte rubs at her face with one hand. Ooooh Nelly. She says something in Afrikaans, quietly. Looks up again at the Ensign. Swallows down, once. Stare. Oh. Oh man. "The left-tenant and I. Were at one point very close. He. He is the victim of a temporal accident. Robert Harris was born close to one-hundred-and-twenty years ago. He has a brother still alive, who is a very old man. ..Robert. Is a very old man. And he's a fine, fine man. He. He left someone behind. He told me, once. That he was in love, and that he missed her."

Christine chews on her lower lip thoughtfully, then cocks her head. After a long moment she says, "I don't think they are the same person. My grandfather, well, the one in the picture -- he died on the U.S.S. Exeter in the 2290's. My grandmother, Anika... well it's a complicated story. Starfleet was different then, you didn't take families onboard a Starship /and/ married officers were less likely to make Captain so ambitious officers usually put off such things until they had cut their teeth -- which is the complication to this story. See, my grandfather was posted to the Enterprise right out of his Cadet cruise ...and this was a very prestigious placement for a middy so my grandmother and grandfather simply put things on hold until he was finished... and then they arranged to get together on mutual leaves when they could but it wasn't as easy, Grandfather was on the Exeter and it was involved in some rather hush hush things, I don't know what but my father told me in general terms... anyway, after an incident with the Klingons before Praxis blew up and everything changed my grandmother and he had a rendezvous for shore leave on Inu Tonstu and then grandfather went back to the Exter. Because they were up to special things there was very little routine communication and when Grandmother discovered she was pregnant with my father, she wanted to save it as a surprise for him -- whimsical and odd yes, but that was her. She didn't want to distract him from his focus, they were operating near the Romulan Border and in those days that was very dangerous indeed... and, his ship was lost with all hands. He had a brother, but he died in an incident with Orions, eventually Grandmother married another fellow and that is where our last name comes from, he adopted dad. And of course, dad passed away in 67 when his ship was lost with all hands along the RNZ... which makes my mother very anxious that now /I'm/ assigned along the Romulan border allies or not... we seem to have bad luck out here... but I figure I survived the Breen bombing the Academy, I can handle this post no sweat, right?" She chuckles nervously.

Nolte takes in another deep breath. She rubs at her eyes. "Robert served under both of those ships The Enterprise with Kirk. I'll never forget that. And the Exeter."

GAME: Valen spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Caeli contests his Athletics (Climbing) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

<CONTEST> Valen contests her Athletics (Climbing) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

<CONTEST> Caeli contests his Systems Engineering (Tactical) skill vs a difficulty of Routine and Fails!

<CONTEST> Valen contests her Systems Engineering (Tactical) skill vs a difficulty of Routine and Fails!

GAME: Medes spends a courage point.

GAME: Harris spends a courage point.

GAME: Nevaren spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Medes (claiming advantage) contests her Systems Engineering (Computers) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Succeeds!

<CONTEST> Nevaren contests his Systems Engineering (Communications-a) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Succeeds!

<CONTEST> Harris (claiming advantage) contests his Shipboard Systems (Communications) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Fails!

<CONTEST> Harris (claiming advantage) contests his Shipboard Systems (Sensors) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Fails!

<CONTEST> Nevaren (claiming advantage) contests his Space Sciences (Subspace Field Mechanics) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Fails!

GAME: Medes spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Medes (claiming advantage) contests her Physical Sciences (Computer Science) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

<CONTEST> Nevaren (claiming advantage) contests his Space Sciences (Subspace Field Dynamics) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

GAME: Medes spends a courage point.

Elsewhere, some time later, the engineering team and Mister Harris finish up their Herculean task and consult with each other on their findings after a call from Caeli lets them know they may have a problem with the phaser banks and will be coming back down soon to consult on said problems... it's been many cups of coffee and even Chief Coal is beginning to show some signs of fatigue as Neveran calls them all together to bounce findings off of each other....

Nevaren mumbles something as his diagnostics come in. He checks... Then cross checks... then cross checks the cross checks... Oi. This is just plain weird. "Thea.. If I am right, and I want you to triple check this for me.. Then there is /nothing/ wrong with the relays systems. There /is/ an external signal source coming in. In fact... There are /two/ of them." The Romulan half-breed looks perplexed at the results, and shunts the findings and numbers through a quickly pasted together modeling program. As he waits, he looks up at Jocaba. "You people must have been doing /excellent/ work here. I mean it. This signal.. I can't believe you even picked it up. You'd have to be running this station at an minimal 98percent all the time. Both signals are /deep/ subspace.. I mean in stratums that we rarely touch." His model finishes and he stares hard at the results. And then whistles real low like. "Yeah.. 2 signals. One far weaker and closer and less permeating, the other seems to be a stronger but more washed out signal... And in the stratum they are being transmitted they could easily have a travel life of /far/ beyond 23.3 light-years."

There's a definite look of displeasure on Harris' face as he moves to talk to the group. "Well, I couldn't really get a good lock on anything, but I get the feeling that the repeating signal is coming from the galactic northwest... but the first pulse came from the direction of the Romulan border." A sigh comes from his lips at that. "And that is all I managed to get."

Medes looks a little pale as she swallows hard, looking back over her shoulder. "Let's hope so," she says quietly, her eyes fastening on the half-Romulan for a long moment, a look on her face that he's seen at least once before. There's a quiet layer of sheer terror beneath her officer veneer. "Let's hope it's /far/ beyond 23.3 light-years, Nevaren." She looks back at her console for a long moment, then swallows /really/ hard, reaching a hand up to scratch at her right bicep. "I... need to check this again."

Ensign Jocoba looks pleased at Nevaren's praise, and perhaps a bit relieved that this all wasn't a result of some mistake on his part... until Medes speaks and he grows tense at what she's /not/ saying...

. o O Medes is barely keeping her sheer and utter terror in check. It's only by brute force of will that she's able to do so at all.

Nevaren looks up from his work, more then a tinge worried at Mede's tone of voice. A quick look to Harris and a nod. "Keep working on it." he says, then looks back down to his terminal and shunts his creen aside to replace it with a copy of Mede's. His eyes scan the matrial. "What is it, Thea?" he asks, calmly, "What is it I am missing here" He isn't the type of oficer who beleives he can do it all. Thats what teamwork is for. If his people have something to say he damn well listens, regardless.

Harris releases a sigh as he returns to his work, attempting to give it another go. "You're better than this, Robbie..." he whispers to himself. "Shape up. Focus."

She stares at her screen for a long time, and then begins speaking, her voice quiet, automatic. Medes is forcing herself to say these words, and to say them as calmly as she's saying them now. "The computer broke down trying to translate this into language because it's eight-dimensional interactive variance integrations with multichannel bandwave data streams. I... don't know S.I.... but if they tried to crack this with their computers? Years. Years." A hard swallow catches in her throat. "But. Now. If you look at this all in context. There is only one type of code reminiscent of this in my experience." And even her automatic speech can't be forced higher than a whisper when she puts that last word to the air. "Borg."

Nevaren blinks at this, his face falling. "Both Signals?" he asks, his voice barely a waver.. He is trying to picture it in his head. Two signals.. One from very very far away.. One from teh direction of teh romulan Neutral Zone...

Chief Coal's coffee cup tumbles to the deck in a harsh clatter... no doubt because his hands are visibly shaken and his face has gotten much paler despite it's typically swarthy hue.

That name doesn't invoke the same fear in Robert Harris as it does in everyone else. Oh, sure, the Borg are bad, so on and so forth - but they're as alien to him as Founders, Prophets, and Jem'Hadar. Glancing over his shoulder, he asks, quite innocently, "Borg. Big cubical ship? Bent on genocide? 'Resistance is futile'?" At the reactions of the others, he turns back to his console - their expressions having answered his questions. "Guess so." After all, it's hard to fear the intangibles.

With perhaps surprising aplomb, Ensign Jocaba makes a set line with his lips, moves over to clean up the coffee spill murmuring something to the Chief as he does then looks back over to the S419 officers, "If that is so, then it's good you came, good we picked it up, and good that now you can alert those who may be able to do something about it if that is in fact them. Beyond that, there isn't much else we can do but prepare and monitor and do our duty as ordered. That's what my people will do sirs, you can count on us..." He is interrupted as Caeli, Valen and Dur enter the room drawing the attention of those gathered by the sheer audacity of their humble arrival.

Caeli pokes his head in, first, then enters with his entire body, holding a PADD in one hand and wearing a sheepish smile. "Uh, hi," he greets tentatively on sensing the general mood. "I think something's wrong with the alignment on the phaser arrays. They're zeroed a little too close for my liking..."

Valen follows after Caeli, carrying a PADD. She's pointing at something on its display. "These readings really /do/ look wrong to me", she says to Dur, next to whom she enters. "I'll warrant I've never dealt with the kind of setup you have here, and that may be the reason it looks wrong to me... nothing against you, of course, but I really /do/ want to ask someone better with the technical aspects of it than I am to double-check it for me..."

"Yes, Robert." Medes manages that much, folding her hands over the edges of her console and tightening her grip there until her small knuckles turn white. "That... that would be the Borg." She stares down at her console, and her mouth moves automatically in answering Nevaren's questions. Kind of creepy when you consider how mechanically she's speaking when, uh, /talking about the Borg./ "It is my... impression. That there is the first signal, which is... which is very reminiscent of the Borg. And. Another which is over and over subtle variations of the original. The... weaker, closer one came from the RSE. The ones that permeate and variate, that's the second signal, the one Robert said came from the anti-spinward anti-coreward galactic median... " Her voice trails off as Caeli comes into the room and speaks. "Yeah," she murmurs weakly to Nevaren. "Let me take a look at that, would you?" Something else to do right now. Please.

Valen lowers her PADD, eyes snapping forward into the room at the sound of that one word... "Borg?", she asks, eyes wide.

For Petty Officer Dur's part, he looks sheepish and very embarrassed that something was amiss in his set up, but all of that fades from his face as he hears the diminutive engineer mention the name of the boogy man and he only mouths the word "Borg".

"Right, then. Shutting up now." Harris' eyes return to his console, and he releases a puff of frustration before getting back to business.

Caeli blinks in surprise, the PADD lowered as bigger, more important things show themselves. "Erm," he manages to get out, looking to each of his crewmates in turn.

Nevaren bites his lower lip.. Man, he looks pale. And considering he already has no skin pigment that is rather shocking. He nods numbly to Medes, taking over her analyses and starting to copy all he can into a new file. "Go, Thea. Help them out. Get it all fixed up" Oi, this is not a good day. It was supposed to be an easy mission.. Really. His first off station command in over a year and a half. A milk run. Shyeah, right. "Mr. Jocaba.. I commend all your crew on this. And I want you to keep monitoring this signal and amending this file I am setting up." Nev looks up at the rest of his crew and nods. "Yeah.. Borg. We think at least." He turns to Harris. "Lieutenant. I want you to open a priority channel with the 419, encrypted, and start sending this file. And Send a Second Copy to Sector command as well."

Jocaba takes the PADD from Caeli's hand as he lowers it and steps over to give it to Medes, "If it is the Borg, perhaps we will want to make sure our weapons systems are in fact aligned properly."

Then Jocaba raises and eyebrow, "Where are Mister Hurley and Ensign Nolte?"

Medes reaches a pale and somewhat shaky hand to take the PADD from Jocoba. "Well, I'm certified in weapons maintenance, so... let's see what we've got here." Refocusing is a good, good idea.

Valen steps up towards Nevaren. "Mind if I take a look, too, sir?...", she asks, quietly.

Valen offers her PADD over, too, in case there's something on it that isn't on Zip's...

"Yes, sir. Opening secure channel to Four-One-Nine, priority one." Harris works his mojo with the comms systems. "Opening second channel to Sector Command, priority one."

Nevaren just nods to valen, arms crossed and massaging the bridge of his nose. "Go For it.. The more the merrier." He casts a sidelong glance to Jocaba, raising an eyebrow. "Yes. Where are The ensign and your crew member?"

Valen nods, slipping into the seat vacated by Medes, starting to go through the accumulated data...

GAME: Medes spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Medes (claiming advantage) contests her Systems Engineering (Weapons) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

GAME: Valen spends a courage point.

Harris works to send the files, humming softly to himself. Out of everyone, he seems to be upbeat.

<CONTEST> Valen (claiming advantage) contests her Shipboard Systems (Communications) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Succeeds!

GAME: Valen spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Valen (claiming advantage) contests her Shipboard Systems (Sensors) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Fails!

Medes crinkles up her nose as she looks over the numbers. "Man. I wish I had about ten of you on my crews, Dur. These numbers are perfect. Meticulous. Couldn't ask for better work. You need me to sign off on this?" She glances up at Caeli, vaguely confused. "What was the problem you were finding? These are spot on." Distracting self is good.

Caeli blinks, and looks over the data again. "Uhm. Yes. They are." He looks apologetically to Dur and shrugs. "My mistake."

Valen goes through the data over and over, finally going off and doing some checking of her own. She checks, cross-checks, doing a lot of the same that was already done, but coming at it from a different angle... after a good while, she calls to Nevaran. "Sir...? Uhm... you'd better have a look at this..."

Nevaren chuckles faintly, thanking the prophets for the banter... That is until Valen speaks up. With a sigh he leans over teh Zakdorn's shoulder and takes a look. "What have you got?"

Valen points at the console readout in front of her. "See this? That signal's /not/ coming from in Romulan space... its originating /somewhere/ in this sector, yes, but on the /Federation/ side of the neutral zone... "

Valen says, "If that's the Borg... they're /here/"

Dur struggles with relief about being not-wrong in the face of Borg talk and the unpleasant situation of making Valen and Caeli not-right and says, "Thank you Lieutenant, I am relieved I have not been remiss in my duties. And thank you Sirs," he says to Valen and Zip, "for making sure that I /was/ on the mark if you had any doubt. If you hadn't, and I had been off, why it could have been a disaster, so in theory you saved us all. Thank you." Ah, gracious in his "see I'm not wrong" time.

Coal finds his voice again, "That signal is a few weeks old, it never repeated and we sent a long range scan that direction and found nothing."

GAME: Medes spends a courage point.

Valen looks worn out, a bit shaken, by this revelation... more tired than would be accounted for by the hours of work she's already put in today. "I tried scanning, too... didn't find anything, either... but with the Borg, we can't assume anything... we can't afford to. If they were here a few weeks ago, we have to assume they're still around now", she says to Coal.

Jocaba speaks up then, "Then perhaps whatever it was went into Romulan space after the signal, perhaps this is something you can ask your Liaison or consulate from the RSE about...?"

Caeli says quietly from where he stands, "Or perhaps this isn't something we want to risk hoping it's gone away. We have to assume worst case scenario."

Harris just remains silent. That's easiest.

Medes very valiantly ignores what Nevaren's being told by Valen, and offers Dur a rather weak sort of smile as she passes both PADDs back to him after she signs off on the whole matter. "Indeed. As I said, I wish I had about ten of you on my crews." That said, she sits quietly, folding one hand up over her upper right arm, and is quiet.

Valen nods, silent. She /is/ scared... she's burned up her reserves of 'calm, cool, and collected' and is just struggling to tread water so as to not get panicky.

First The Nz.. then the RSE.. Now Federation Space in THIS sector. Only one of those can be right. Oi. Not a good day at all. "Keep working on it, and send all you can back to the Station for further analysis.." he says, quietly, then straightens, tugging nervously at his uniform. "We may have to, Mr. Jocaba.. And Yes, Zip, You are right. But we need more concrete evidence.. A position.. Something. We can't do that here." He taps at his combadge. "Nevaren to Nolte. Are you finished with that Cargo transfer? We are going to be leaving as son as we are done with the rest of the maintenance."

Nolte sounds a bit shaken as she respons, "Yes sir. I came with Mister Hurley to retrieve the recordings from her quarters and I have strong reason to believe I've come accross something rather. anomalous. Sir. We'll report directly."

Nevaren sighs. "Very Good, Mr. Nolte. Thank you." He taps off his badge.. Something Rather Anomalous?.. More anomalies? Prophets, you'd think that's all starfleet ever sees these days.

And soon, being only a few doors down, Ensign Nolte and Midshipman Hurley enter the operations room.

Harris glances over his shoulder as the doors cycle, then turns back to his console.

Valen takes a breath, and goes back to trying to pinpoint something with the sensors... busy-work, mostly, to try to keep her mind off the whole 'worst case scenario' thing. She's lived that sorta situation once before, and it's not something she wants to repeat.

Jocoba says, "Mister Hurley, report."

Hurley stops staring at Harris and says, "Cargo transferred sir, all manifests match up and secured."

Jocoba says, "Since it turns out we aren't having a major malfunction of our systems, Lieutenant, perhaps we should take care of the routine maintainence you came out here for since Lieutenant Harris has sent the data forward, and then you can get back where you can pursue this with your superior resources and we'll keep monitoring faithfully on our end? I'm sure you want to get back home where you can do something more tangible in relation to all of this?"

Medes just sort of sits there, staring at her console as if it were suddenly going to come to life and stick nanoprobes into her or perhaps dance a jaunty rhumba instead.

Valen asks, of no one in particular, "Where's the restroom?" She's stopped working at the sensors, as if just giving up on it.

Coal stirs from his place and journeys to the replicator, soon he is standing beside Medes offering her a cup of coffee, two creams, no sugar. Coffee is a good distraction, he even brought her a spoon to stir with. To Valen he says, "There is a refresher between each of the quarters sir, you can go through mine to reach one if you like, they aren't locked."

Nevaren sighs and nods to ensign Jacoba's suggestion.. mainly because it was just what he was going to say. "Of course, Ensign. That would be best. Your people have done fine work, you know that.. I will make sure that Command Knows that" He looks at Nolte Next. "Ensign Nolte? Good Job. Take a quick look at what they don't have, still, and we will bring their aquistion forms with us." What else.. Oh, yes. "Thea? Lets get that maintainence done, ASAP. Captain Bali is really going to want our reports on this." And to all his crew and Jacobas he riterates.. "Good work, People. Damn good work."

Valen nods, standing up. She heads towards the quarters, doing her best to keep a steady and unhurried pace -- she succeeds at steady, but ends up hurrying a bit.

Coffee. Yes. Coffee. Threadbare little things to hold her together. "Right, boss. Be right on that." Medes stirs her coffee first, and sips it. "Okay. Maintenance. Yes." And so she attends to the routine maintenance with all her Medeslike need for insane levels of perfection; it seems a good distraction for her, and she calms considerably once she's working again.

Caeli sighs, and looks about at all those working. Nothing heavy to carry... nobody to shoot... no crimes to investigate... so Zip turns to Dur, asking hopefully, "So how about those boardgames?"

Dur nods quietly and musters an upbeat smile, and after leading the way, soon finds himself in a cut throat game of Pirates and Palaces against the canny Zipok Caeli.

Nevaren is about to leave when he stops, looking ober his shoulder. "Mr. harris.. If you will.. Do me a favour?"

Valen eventually returns from her potty break. "Need me to help anywhere?", she asks of Nevaren, to find out if she's free to hang out with Zip and Dur.

Standing with a tug to his uniform, Harris pulls his PADD from his pocket and glances to Nevaren. "Sir?" he replies, raising an eyebrow.

Nevaren tightens his grip on his toolcase. "Just.. a thought. Thea said the second closer signal had more.. varience to it.. Difference to the other farther one. Double check it against the filebases to see if it matches /any/ borg comms we know.. And Then check it against Starfleet Security filebases to see if it matches anyone more.. local. Even check it against federation and starfleet com signals. And Then amend your findings to my report back on 419."

"Yes, sir." Harris nods as he uploads files to his PADD, then moves to Hurley with a smile. "If there's anything we've missed, Midshipman, feel free to forward the requisition on to myself at Four-One-Nine."

Hurley opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.. so she nods instead and then moves to her work station.

<CONTEST> Harris (claiming advantage) contests his Computer (Research) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

GAME: Harris spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Harris (claiming advantage) contests his Administration (Bureaucracy) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Fails!

< Mission Commander, Lieutenant Nevaren's log, Supplemental: What began as a routine maintainence check and supply transfer has turned into something far more insidious. Ghostly signals in the deepest reaches of subpace hinting at The Borg somewhere out there in the galaxy and someone trying to contact them. Other Borg? In our Sector? Or is it something more disturbing. Collaborators from our own quadrant trying to contact them. That thought scares me more. In out attempts to discover the truth Mr Harris seems to have stumbled into something that I am not a liberty to talk about in this log beyond the fact that I have dealt with something very much like it in the recent past. We are on our way home now, leaving behind a competant crew who may have just gave us warning of something terrible coming in our near futures.. But a warning is only good if we know how to heed it. End Log. >

The ensign steps forward as Nevaren makes introductions of his own crew, "Hello sir, welcome to Diss-One-To-One, I'm Ensign Xavier Jocaba the facility commander, this is Midshipman Christine Hurley my operations officer, that is Chief Harry Coal your Engineering Mate and that is Petty Officer Dur, your security specialist." Ensign Jocaba indicates the human female, the human male and the Bolian in order. "Myself and the Chief will take you to the main control room and explain the technical problem we've been having, Dur, you can help unload the supplies and Mister Hurley, please coordinate with the supply detail and show them to the lounge after the cargo is unloaded."

Hurley says, "Aye Aye sir!" Her enthusiasm is girlish in alignment with her very early twenties appearance, her hair which is up in a pony tail even bobs and sways as she nods her head to her C.O.

Chief Coal moves away from the console and steps up next to the command officer who looks young enough to be his grand son while the Bolian merely nods in assent from his station.