Strange Visitors
Episode Name: Strange Visitors
Written By: Grey
Cast: Beraq, Channa, Goodwin, Grey, Hurley, K'net-mauri, Kirkpatrick, Kogh, Kran'dok, Moulin, Nabrun, R'hazi, Rhane, Shamash, Th'lash and Watters.
Produced By: Starfleet
Directed By: Grey
Aired On: Mon Jul 11 23:55:12 2005
Stardate: 55108.3
Time: Mon Jul 11 18:57:29 2005
Stardate: 55107.8
Its another evening in operations with a few officers handling shifts and the rest of the consoles filled out by non-commissioned officers. The viewscreens are showing views of space and logs of scans. Thngs seem quiet and well organized.
. o O Hurley thinks, "Quiet. I like it quiet. Quiet is good. I can actually get things accomplished when it's quiet."
"Mr. Kirkpatrick", Shamash mentions to his fellow scientist, deciding to liven things up a bit out of the routine. "I want you to employ free sensor capabilities for a long range theta segment scan in the direction of 283 point 4 degrees mark 183 of the galactic center for the next thirty minutes, see if you can not find something interesting there"
"Aye aye, sir. Adjusting the random refraction buffer for long range scan," the acknowledgment comes from Science as Kirkpatrick makes the appropriate commands via his console.
Hurley glances up from her console, fingers still pressed against the communications ear piece on her headset as she regards Shamash and his latest order, smirk pulling at the corners of her lips.
. o O Hurley thinks, "Why is it that the science types are never satisfied with 'quiet'? Do we need to give them more projects where they can blow up their labs?"
Watters, well, he's still mostly just paying attention to that tactical console of his. He looks up for a moment at Shamash's order, a little smile crossing his face for a moment before his attention goes back to his console.
Shamash looks to Hurley, looks to Watters, looks back to Hurley, facing her and raising his eyebrows in a wordless 'whaaaat?' gesture. Though then he winks once "Just so that you don't feel neglected, how is the Commtraffic doing?"
"Quiet," Christine Hurley announces softly, smile returning for Shamash. "Which is as it should be. Of course," she glances in Kirkpatrick's direction with a bemused smile, "I'm not exactly *looking* for something more exciting. I appreciate quiet when the Prophets afford it to us."
Fingers remaining on the console, Kirkpatrick continues his scan, carefully running his eyes over the developing two-dimensional diagram which represents the area specified in Shamash's orders. He looks up from his console, simply giving Hurley a grin before going back to his work.
Watters continues keeping an eye to his console, just shaking his head a little bit in response to the look from Shamash. His fingers idly tap at his console, just varying the display every so often to make sure he doesn't just get zoned out staring at the same readouts.
"You see," Christine explains as she looks back to her own console. "With it quiet like this? I can go over things. Like readings. Systems. Mission status. Mission priorities, equipment and inventory. When things are blowing up, it's a little more difficult to justify invetory counting and solitaire playing."
GAME: Hurley spends a courage point.
GAME: Hurley contests her Shipboard Systems/Communications+A vs Challenging and Succeeds.
Shamash nods at Hurleys words "I hear you. But you all have the consoles to occupy your time, while i have only this comfortable chair and need to hide my solitaire playing by looking busy down a PADD." Speaking of the PADD, he holds it up from the armrest, though no solitaire can be seen, just numbers and letters.
The words are no sooner out of her mouth, than Christine's fingers touch the earbud of her headset again. Shamash's comment is lost on her as eyebrows furrow in concentration and her other hand reaches to the console top to make alterations for the incoming. "Incoming message," she announces, eyebrows still furrowed in concentration. "On a rather... inappropriate channel. Well, at least not usual. Still working on translations, Sir. They're saying "This is the marcedan space vessel.... something... requesting flight coordinates."
Kirkpatrick smiles from behind his console, still waiting for the full diagram of the system to be revealed, "I prefer console golf over Solitaire," he notes.His smile diminishes as business kicks in, as he prepares to open a second window to handle scanning the ship...just in case.
Watters's attention is finally pulled away from his console again as Hurley speaks. "Marcadean?" he asks under his breath, before turning his attention back to the panel, closing out the more obscure screens he'd had pulled up in favor of a more basic layout. Just in case.
. o O Watters thinks, "And just what is a Marcadean?"
"See if you can not clear the signal up a bit, Christine, are they in range for two way communication?" beat "Lieutenant Kirkpatrick, please cancel the theta segment scan and check the sector from which the Com signal originates, see what you get.", Shamash mentions then pops up the rarely used mini computer access console in the armrest of his chair, trying to access some data, mumbling as he goes: "Mr. Watters? Are you familiar with that designation?"
GAME: Shamash contests his Computer/Research vs Routine and Succeeds.
Kirkpatrick states, "Aye sir." He cancels the previous scan, and begins tracing the resonance from the comm signal.
GAME: Kirkpatrick spends a courage point.
GAME: Kirkpatrick contests his Shipboard Systems/Sensors vs Routine and Succeeds.
"Vulcanoid," Christine explains while her fingers continue to work at the UT and computer. "They're close," she responds to Shamash. "I can easily get a response back to them. And.. in fact.." Into the headset, her voice takes on a more confident tone. "This is Starfleet Station S419 of the United Federation of Planets. Please repeat your last transmission."
Watters shakes his head slightly at the question that he's asked. "Not familiar with it at all, sir." Watters replies to Shamash, before he hears Hurley giving at least a portion of the answer. More of an answer than he had, anyway.
Kirkpatrick clenches his jaw and raises his eyebrows in confusion, "Sir. I have traced the signal to its origin. There's nothing there." He offers another suggestion, "Perhaps they have a cloaking device of somesort?"
Hurley nods. "They do have a cloak. And the most... *amazing* vessels I've ever seen. Beautiful. Just.. simply.." She stops talking again and glances back to Shamash. "The vessel is Th'tanilan. They are on approach for diplomatic relations and request a cleared flight path and permission to dock." Clearing her throat, she glances to her console, "I'm.. unsure.. what docking facilities we currently have open, though. Let me check on that."
. o O Hurley thinks, "Oh, please do decloak. I *love* Marcedan ships. They're so... regal. Majestic. Elegant. Just.. amazing."
Shamash nods. "Thank you Mr. Kirkpatrick, see if a cross aligned counter modulating background residue scan can be more effective against that cloak." Not that it usually is, but one might try. Directed to Hurley he adds "Th'tanilan? Sound as if you have encountered them already?" beat "Do that, but take your time with it. I need to take care of something first."
Shamash taps his com badge. "Lieutenant Shamash to Lt. Commander Goodwin."
"Not to sound paranoid, sir, but I would recomend asking them to decloak and scanning their vessel before allowing them to dock with the station. Just to make sure we don't end up with any surprises." Watters says to Shamash from over at his station.
Over Shamash's com badge, someone says, "Goodwin here. Go ahead, Ops."
. o O Watters thinks, "Since everything around here seems to have a way of ending in disaster..."
"Aye, sir," Kirkpatrick responds, checking that specific order as he taps on the console and referencing his data.
Hurley inclines her head as she speaks back into her comms console. "Message received, Th'tanilan. Welcome to the Dulcais sector. We are in the process of clearing you a flight path, docking bay and welcoming committee. Please hold your position while we prepare for your arrival."
Into his com badge, Shamash mentions calmly "Officer of the Watch here, Sir. Your presence is required on the Operations deck. We have a possible first contact situation."
Over Shamash's com badge, Goodwin says, "I'm on my way. Goodwin out."
Shamash taps his com badge and terminates transmission.
Goodwin steps into the bustle of Ops from the corridor. The door slides shut with a whisper.
Goodwin has arrived.
"They're also requesting as many diplomats as available to meet with them upon arrival," Christine says, head canted slightly to the side. "First contact?" eyebrows furrow and she lifts her gaze to the viewscreen, obviously slightly confused.
Kirkpatrick continues checking up on that residual scan, "A lot of tetryon emissions here," here informs Shamash, "It would be interesting to decipher why they are cloaked in the first place."
. o O Hurley thinks, "First contact? We've.. met them. We have. I remember their ship. It was simply.. in a different timeline. Crap."
. o O Hurley thinks, "Oh Prophets. How do we keep the timelines straight?"
Goodwin makes his way into Operations, the doors swishing open as appropriate. Josh makes his way down into the pit, ordering, as he goes, "Mister Shamash - report."
GAME: Kirkpatrick contests his Shipboard Systems/Sensors+A vs Impossible and Fails.
Kirkpatrick smirks as the computer blurps with the news of the residual scan, "No effect, sir. Nothing on sensors."
Watters's eyes flicker over towards the door for a moment as Goodwin enters. They quickly return to his console, just making sure that there's nothing out of the ordinary there before looking up again to follow the conversation.
"Acknowledge the receipt of the message, Lietenant Hurley.", Shamash responds more formally to Christine than just moments before. He half turns to Goodwin, still in the Command seat. "We have received a communication from a vessel that defines itself being of "Marcedan" origin by the name of Th'tanilan, Speakers appear vulcanoid. Vessel is under cloak, configuarion unknown, vessel unknown. Nothing to either names on the database. Faint sensor traces of the cloak, nothing specific." he rattles on, "They are requesting diplomatic docking procedure."
Hurley, not one to keep a diplomat on hold for long, speaks into her comms again. "Understood, Th'tanilan. We are currently working on gathering what we can for you. Please continue to hold position."
"The deck is yours, Mister Shamash," points out Goodwin. "But if they would like docking clearance, I can't see anything that would be stopping us from granting it to them." It's not quite an order as he respects the standard operating procedures, but it is a gentle suggestion.
"Very well", Shamash responds, trusting Christine to have worked ahead, he tells her "Transmit the approach vector, Lieutenant". To Watters he mentions, "Mr. Watters, have Security provide a honor guard to the airlock if you please."
"Airlock one," Christine says to Watters just as he receives his order. Her comment, however, is enunciated with a quick smile. Then, it's back to the comms with her. "Transmitting approach vector. You have Airlock One, Th'tanilan. Approach and dock at your leisure. We will have a diplomatic party there to welcome you on arrival."
"Sir, a ship is decloaking, approximately one-hundred thousand kilometers about," Kirkpatrick informs as the tetryon emissions now disappear.
"The deck is yours still, Mister Shamash, but can we see the vessel on screen?" It's still phrased as a request, even as he stops moving towards the hallway to see what, exactly, they have.
Watters nods slightly as he's given the order. "Aye, sir" Watters replies to the order, tapping out a quick command on his console. He pauses for a moment, before looking back up and adding. "Sir, with your permission, I'd like to join them"
Hurley doesn't wait for Shamash to give the order, she turns to look at the viewscreen as she confirms, "On screen," with excitement brimming in her tone and while her fingers do the work of bringing it on screen as she has confirmed.
"Give me a picture of it, if you will, Main screen.", Shamash responds to Kirkpatrick automatically, the words lapsing syncronous with those of Goodwins. A corner of Shamash's mouth twitches at that, humorously. To Watters, "Summon a replacement, Mr. Watters, you are then free to join the guard detail."
. o O Hurley's heart thumps in anticipation of waiting to see the magificent vessel. She knows what to look for and is *clearly* excited.
. o O Hurley thinks, "Barana, I hope you're available to meet with them. Hmm. Again."
The order already handled by Ops, Kirkpatrick simply nods, bringing his eyes off the console in order to view the ship on the main screen.
Goodwin taps his com badge. "Lt. Commander Goodwin to Shuttle Bay."
The ship that decloaks on screen is not quite the regal vessel Hurley mentioned, but its still sleek and beautiful. Yet there is also a dangerous factor to it. While no weapons are outwardly visible one can almost be sure this is a vessel made for war. The hull shimmers as it banks and accelerates towards the station.
Hurley's eyes watch the ship carefully, head canting and smile forming rather quickly. "Fifteen minutes to dock."
Over Goodwin's com badge, someone says, "Ambassador Rhane here."
Goodwin reaches for his commbadge, already beginning to round up those ambassadors that he figures would not want to miss out on this. He smiles as the ship decloaks.
. o O Goodwin thinks, "Mmmm. My first first contact."
Into his com badge, Goodwin says, "Madam Ambassador, we have an unidentified ship of 'Marcedan' origin currently docking with the Station. Our databanks have no knowledge of such a race, and they are requesting Ambassadors present when they dock. I assumed you were interested, and you are welcome to invite your staff. They are docking at Airlock One."
"Very well, sir" Watters replies, before proceeding to do just what he was invited to and summon a replacement for his station. While he waits for the replacement to arrive, he moves his focus to the ship hanging on the screen, eyeing it warily.
Kirkpatrick looks at Shamash from his station. While enthusiastic, it does not show. Perhaps he is a bit suspicious. "Sir, shall I scan the vessel to assess weapon compliment and capabilities?"
. o O Hurley thinks, "No information in our current databanks. In our *old* databanks, however... from before the Lithians... but, how accurate would that be? Do I even suggest it? Technically... it shouldn't even still be around...."
Over Goodwin's com badge, Rhane says, "I see. I'm on my way, Commander."
Goodwin taps his com badge and terminates transmission.
Goodwin taps his com badge. "Lt. Commander Goodwin to Lieutenant JG Nabrun."
"Understood, Lt. Hurley, advise our personnel of the timeframe" Shamash studies the visible outline of the vessel, eyes going over her hull more like a structural engineer would. "Mr. Kirkpatrick", he returns, "It is an unknown vessel, so don't concentrate on that alone, please. Passive sensors only. We do not want to give them any reason to become upset even before we talked with them, do we?"
The hand that was busy working at her console now taps idly on Christine's upper lip while she watches the vessel in a mixture of amazement and question. Her eyes flicker towards Shamash, then to Kirkpatrick and finally to Goodwin. Startled back to Ops, she looks back at the command pit. "Timeframe, sir? I don't understand."
Kirkpatrick nods to the Officer of the Watch, "Aye sir." He continues with the passive sensoring, but there is something in his eyeswhich declares his displeasure by the way that vessel looks.
Over Goodwin's com badge, someone says, "Lieutenant JG Nabrun here."
. o O Hurley thinks, "They can't be that different in this timeline. How likely is it that the Lithian situation affected them? They just.. *can't* be different..."
Shamash clarifies for Christine "The time until docking..."
Into his com badge, Goodwin says, "Counselor, we have a ship of 'Marcedan' origin docking with the Station, and our databanks do not know the race. As this is tentatively classified as a First Contact situation, I would appreciate if you could be present at Airlock One with the various Ambassadors and my staff when they arrive."
Over Goodwin's com badge, Nabrun says, "On my way, Sir. Any injured?"
. o O Shamash thinks, "I sure hope /not/ even though her looks could..."
Into his com badge, Goodwin says, "Not to my knowledge. This time I'm simply calling on you for your knowledge of, well, humanoid behavior. Goodwin out."
Goodwin taps his com badge and terminates transmission.
Goodwin taps his com badge. "Lt. Commander Goodwin to Crew Quarters 1209."
"Oh," Hurley responds to Shamash, quick smile flickering back into place. "Right. Docking. Timeframe to docking. Yes. yes." And, since *nothing* should be out of the ordinary, she makes a general hail to security and the docking bay to transmit an updated ETA - to the second.
Watters continues to keep an eye on his console for the moment as he waits for his replacement. One hand idly reaches out to pull up the data from the ship's passive scans, quickly glancing over the information that's availible.
Over Goodwin's com badge, someone says, "Envoy General Kogh here."
With the relative and temporary calm, Shamash uses the moment to once again turn to Hurley, "You sounded surprised, have /you/ seen the ship before, or heard of Marcedans?" pause "It sure rings a bell, but the computer database turns out empty and i can not place it at all."
Into his com badge, Goodwin says, "Mister Ambassador, we have an unidentified vessel that claims to be of 'Mercedan' origin, which is not known to our databanks. They have requested that Ambassadors of all species be present when they dock, and I wanted to pass that invitation on to you and your staff. They are docking at Airlock One."
Over Goodwin's com badge, Kogh takes a few moments to answer, but there's a decided note of excitement in his tone. "Indeed! My gratitude, Commander. I will, of course, make haste."
"That's because," Hurley says, choosing her words very carefully and eyeing Shamash *very* purposefully, "after the .. *Dominion* .. attack, our computer databanks were found to be very corrupt - history completely different. Ensign Artz... corrected our computer databanks as one of her first projects here by comparing and replacing with records from Dulcais Sector Command."
Into his com badge, Goodwin says, "Very good, Mister Ambassador. Goodwin out."
Goodwin taps his com badge and terminates transmission.
Goodwin taps his com badge. "Lt. Commander Goodwin to Crew Quarters 1203."
Over Goodwin's com badge, someone says, "Ambassador K'net-mauri here."
. o O Hurley thinks, "Come on, Agrim. Catch on. catch on. The reason they're not in our computers is because all information from the other timeline has been wiped because it was considered "corrupt data". Come on, Agrim. This project was handled by *your* department."
. o O Channa projects, "This is a busy place at times, but also very slow. I have not yet settled in myself only being here a few months."
Into his com badge, Goodwin says, "Mister Ambassador, we have an unidentified vessel that is of 'Marcedan' origin. Our databanks do not know it and they have requested Ambassadors to meet them at Airlock One when they dock. I wished to offer that, then, to you and your staff."
Kirkpatrick just sits there, observing his console and the flood of diplomatic activity as the ambassadorial contingent is being summoned.
Over Goodwin's com badge, K'net-mauri says, "Very well."
Into his com badge, Goodwin says, "Very good, Mister Ambassador. Goodwin out."
Goodwin taps his com badge and terminates transmission.
Shamash nods at Hurleys response and tries to tap up some obscure information on his little computer console. "I see." is all he says just now.
Hurley bites at her lower lip and glances over towards Goodwin.
Goodwin seems to do a little mental check-list. "Klingon, Romulan, Federation, counseling. Just need to get my staff down there." He nods to himself, satisfied, making for the door. "All right, Mister Shamash, keep the deck. I'll be off meeting our strange visitors."
With his replacement finally arriving, Watters finally turns his attention away from his console. He takes a moment to quietly give the man a short briefing about what's going on before heading towards the door to join the security contingent he summoned earlier.
. o O Kran'dok feels embarrassed and self-concious.
"Aye, Sir. May i recommend that you keep a PADD handy? I might be able to supply you with an information update and will not need to rely on the Compins that way.", Shamash mentions to Goodwin as he wirls the chair back to the front, he has something else to do, sending a text message to Hurley, it simply reads: <<backup of 'corrupted' database is available. Difficult to access from here.>>
. o O Kran'dok thinks, "Of all the times that something had to happen. King and now some sort of surprise meeting."
. o O Kogh thinks, "Bless Klingon anatomy; nobody need know I -ran- here - except any who may have seen in the corridor. How undignified that would have looked..."
"I think, Mister Shamash, I'll need to handle this on our own without messages past across class, but I'll have my PADD with me," promises Goodwin, exiting Ops.
"Docking moors in place," Hurley announces with a glance to her console and a lifted brow. She quickly taps out a response to Shamash, <<I know. It may have filed away in Sciences somewhere. Let me know if you need my help finding it.>>
Kirkpatrick stands from his post, signing off and shutting down, following behind Goodwin.
Time: Mon Jul 11 20:56:32 2005
Stardate: 55108.0
Doorways of varying size and design are spaced along each side of this long, gently curving corridor at irregular intervals. Each portal is emblazoned with the standard numerical room code and a small control panel is recessed into the wall beside it. Although the lighting is sufficient, the muted blue-grey walls and medium grey carpeted deck serve to soften it, creating a calming effect. Midway along this corridor section, a side corridor leads coreward to a similar inner section, an indication of the deck's concentric ring layout.
Word comes from Operations that the final docking procedures are underway, as one of the non-commissioned officers stands by the airlock getting ready to open it.
After the announcement is given, Rhane eyes the airlock, and then glances back to Channa and Nabrun. "So much for an adjustment period," she chuckles with a wry grin. "Not that I haven't been forced to hit the ground running before, of course... but it's never been in quite such dramatic fashion."
K'net-mauri just stands there, observing. He lifts an eyebrow in response to Rhane's comment, but says nothing.
Kogh shifts his hands behind his back, shooting what looks suspiciously like a sheepish glance at Beraq, but he, too remains silent.
Beraq comes to stand slightly behind Kogh, giving all those there a polite nod.
Goodwin makes his way out of the turbolift with Kirkpatrick and Watters, moving towards the Ambassadors gathered near the airlock. "Ambassadors," he greets. "I would make formal introductions, but I fear we do not have the time. Suffice it to say I have the great pleasure of introducing to you Ambassador Rhane of the Federation Diplomatic Services, who has been our Ambassador to the four-one-nine diplomatic conference for the, well, better part of two hours now." He nods his head, then turns towards the airlock.
K'net-mauri smiles dryly at Goodwin and nods to Rhane.
Nabrun straightens as Goodwin and the others enter, eyes going to the senior officer, and falls silent.
Kirkpatrick comes behind Goodwin, tugging at his uniform to inspect it for any speck or stain. The science officers sighs deeply, standing near Goodwin. Who knows? Maybe these newcomers love rock collecting.
The turbolift doors slide open with a hiss.
Moulin steps out of the turbolift.
Moulin has arrived.
The turbolift doors slide closed.
Watters makes his way out of the lift after Goodwin and Kirkpatrick, glancing around the deck for just a moment at the little group gathered here. Channa is offered a little smile, before he moves to make his way over towards the group of federation officers. He gives the group a little nod before falling in, arms clasped behind his back in the parade-rest position.
. o O Beraq thinks, "I hope this Federation Ambassador isn't an idiot like the last one."
. o O Beraq feels curious.
Kran'dok comes to a stop just behind and to the side of the Romulan Ambassador. He offers no nods or smiles to any familiar faces. After a quick glance around the rest of the room, his attention fixes upon the airlock. His expression is a neutral mask, allowing little to show through.
Channa looks back at the Ambassador and nods her head, she then raises an eyebrow but says nothing. Her eyes then moves to the airlock.
After moment the airlock door hisses open, revealing the airlock hallway beyond and the two people waiting there.
Th'lash steps through the airlock access.
Th'lash has arrived.
R'hazi steps through the airlock access.
R'hazi has arrived.
The woman is many things, but most importantly regal, vulcanoid and tall. She stands over two meters talls and carries herself with the practiced elegance of a woman sure of her place and power. Her hair in long, black and fine, worn straight and loose down to her waist. She has faint forehead ridges that are reminiscint of Romulan bone structure. She is wearing long robes that reach right to the floor, long robes that are a deep midnight blue in color. Gold stitching runs all over them, covering them in rune like patterns. The robes are drawn in at the waist with a thin black leather belt. She is wearing a sheathed a knife with a white wrapped hilt on her left side.
R'hazi is a Vulcanoid young man with angular features and slight Romulan forehead ridges. His black hair is fine, cut in a manner more playful than the typical Vulcan or Romulan --- reaching between his chin and his shoulders, the front section is swept back with two side-locks framing each ear. His grey eyes reveal an energy and interest reminiscent of youth. Standing at 6'2" with a sturdy build, his movements show grace and strength. He wears a white robe over grey pants and boots. The lines of the robe are uniform and mathematically-pleasing, the thread matching the fine sturdy fabric for an understated and elegantly-textured appearance. The pants are a military style, the boots, likewise.
Th'lash steps out of the lift, her pace slow and stately. Once clear she glances back to make sure that the male with her is following, before turning to those gathered and nodding. "Greetings. I am Th'lash, ambassador for the Marcedans. We understand there is a diplomatic mission here and we wish to participate."
Rhane takes a couple of steps closer to Th'lash and R'hazi, giving the former a smile. "Welcome. I am Ambassador Loriana Rhane, of the United Federation of Planets. I will look into that possibility for you, Ambassador, and I cannot think of any reason why you would not be allowed to do so."
K'net-mauri looks at the two with thoughtful, lazy-eyed interest. "I am K'net-mauri, the Romulan Star Empire's Ambassador here. Jolan'tru."
. o O Nabrun thinks, "Good evening, and welcome to S419 Upsilon."
Kogh sweeps his eyes over the two, chin lifting in a faintly imperious, proud manner. His hands slip forward to rest at his hips, inclining his head to the side slightly. He rumbles with all due pride, "On behalf of the Emperor and the Klingon Empire, I, General-Envoy qoH, heir to the House of Qeth, bid you greetings."
. o O Nabrun seems to have no hesitation, though her thoughts aren't addressed to anyone in particular. In fact, they could simply be a general thought of welcome.
. o O Channa excited yet weary and hoping she can be useful and not just asked to turn pojections on and open doors.
. o O Th'lash thinks, "Thank you for the welcome, child. I appreciate it."
. o O Channa thinks, "Yes greetings, I'm look forwards to learning of your culture."
Beraq steps forward from behind Kogh, giving a slightly more pronounced bow than her Ambassador, "Greetings, I am Consul Beraq Tai' Gholla, aide to General-Envoy qoH." She straightens up and once again steps back.
As the Starfleet representative among the Ambassadors, Goodwin, too, steps forward to offer his introduction. "On behalf of the Federation Starfleet and Station Four-One-Nine-Upsilon, welcome. I'm Lieutenant Commander Joshua Goodwin, the station's second officer." He tries his best to suppress a look of, well, surprise, smiling pleasantly.
. o O Goodwin thinks, "Well, that's not one they teach at Command school - 'Hi, we're a new race. Can we join the party?'"
Nabrun remians several steps behind Goodwin, unmoving for the moment. She offers Th'lash a warm smile, then bows her head respectfully.
Kirkpatrick allows the diplomatic contingent to introduce themselves. He just gives a nod, having a look which expresses both curiosity and surprise.
. o O Moulin thinks, "They're both splendid in their own, oddsome way, aren't they--I can't believe I'm th--"
. o O Moulin feels elated excitement.
. o O Th'lash is rather calm in a prepared, expected manner. She is curious and there is controlled excitement.
Watters remains where he stands, arms still clasped behind his back. His head doesn't turn towards the new arrivals, though his eyes do flicker over in their direction, looking over at them curiously as the diplomatic staff make their introductions.
From the background, taking an opportunity where it lies, Moulin steps forward, coming to stand near Goodwin, slightly behind him and to his side. "Ensign Isabeau Amelie Moulin, Diplomatic Affairs Liaison. Enchante. It is a delight to meet you."
. o O Watters thinks, "So that's what a Merwhatchamacallit looks like..."
Kran'dok remins standing at attention and out of sight. His eyes closely examine those who emerge from the airlock and search through the portal for possible danger. The Romulan makes no motions as he stands tall with a completely stoic expression.
Channa watchs everyone as they introduce themselves as always she stays behind her Ambassador and listens as is her way. She does glance at the new Ambassdor, her express warm and inviting.
. o O Kran'dok thinks, "I wonder if this will be another chance for everyone to stumble over eachother as they all try to make a name for themselves. The lack of discipline here is remarkable. Whoever this new delegation is, I hope they do not mind."
R'hazi meets everyone's eyes boldly as they introduce themselves. When everyone seems to be finished with introductions, he states, "I am R'hazi, aide to Th'lash." After a moment's pause, he adds, "Greetings."
Th'lash smiles slightly to those gathered, and says, "A pleasure." Then she turns slightly with swirling robes to take a pair of steps towards K'net-mauri. "You are our cousins, no? The sons of Tellar?" she asks, though after a moment she turns to level her gaze on Watters. "We are Marcedans, child." The last is said slowly and clearly, in a teaching tone.
K'net-mauri smiles at T'lash. "That would appear to be the case," he says. "I am pleased to meet you."
. o O Kirkpatrick thinks, "Where did these people come from? And the capabilities on that ship..."
. o O Moulin thinks, "They're beautiful--it's clear they feel superior to--at least the humans... But who can blame them? We'd not be where we are now, if not for the Vulcans. Probably space dust. The female is so /tall/... is the one behind her still a child--well, adolescent? Mon DIEU I feel like a child on Christmas morning."
. o O Channa thinks, "Aways worth a smile is Andrew Watters."
. o O Channa pride in the young Ensign.
A small grin comes to Rhane's lips as Th'lash addresses Watters. "It is our pleasure to welcome both of you, Ambassador, and we are honored to extend our hospitality to you. If you are interested in participating in the diplomatic mission here, perhaps Commander Goodwin can arrange quarters for you aboard the station... unless your ship will be docked for some time, and you would feel more comfortable there."
. o O Moulin thinks, "How is Josh handling this, I wonder. Hah! Probably better than /I/... he looks surprised, but mildly! Rather like someone told him they went to school with his cousin. Or perhaps they're /both/ mature and the female is typically the larger."
. o O Th'lash projects, "I am the mother of my aide, child."
Beraq stands there silently, off to the site as the Romulan Ambassador greets the Mercedans. Her expression is neutral with only the most politest of smile across her face.
. o O Moulin thinks, "Forgive me, Madame. I am not sure how to speak this way. And I am even less adept, it seems, at 'hearing' this way. I caught the words 'the' 'of' and 'child'."
. o O Nabrun thinks, "I am LTJG Barana Nabrun, of the Counseling office. If either of you have need of anything, please feel free to contact me."
. o O Beraq thinks, "It will be interesting to see how these new diplomats fit into the mix."
"It would be, of course, the Station's pleasure to welcome you as our guests," Goodwin confirms Rhane's offer. "Might I offer the deck twelve conference room to continue this conversation, rather than huddling around an airlock?" He smiles, again, politely, like everyone else.
. o O Beraq feels interested, curious about the newcomers.
. o O Goodwin feels nervous, like he's not entirely sure what he does in this situation.
. o O Moulin feels fascinated, a little nervous now. The fascination is overwhelmingly the dominant force.
. o O Nabrun has a brief rush of familiarity regarding the Marcedeans, a small bit of nostalgia. There's also that professional formality there, and a calm presence amidst the excitement.
Nabrun looks between the pair of newcomers for a moment, then turns her attention to Goodwin, waiting at relaxed attention.
Kirkpatrick remains quiet. His profession is that of a scientist, so he observes everything about the visitors - their robes, the knives, and how their features resemble that of a Vulcan or Romulan. He looks over at Goodwin, then back to the newcomers.
. o O Watters thinks, "Oops. Telepaths. Now, do I respond or not..."
Watters seems genuinely surprised as he's spoken to, his head turning to regard Th'lash curiously for a moment before it connects just what the comment directed at him was in response to. Watters just replies with a simple "Right. Marcedans. Thanks."
. o O Watters feels Just a wee bit embarassed
Moulin, for her part, is beaming like the Great Lighthouse. A child who just got a pony for Christmas.
Kran'dok continues to search the new arrivals and the airlock behind them with his eyes, still making no other motions.
Channa hides a laugh with a cough and tries not to let peoples thoughts intrude on her sceren out look. She finally steps forwards when Goodwin mentions moving to the Conference room. "If you need refreshments or consumables I would be happy to serve them for you. " She says very softly almost shyly.
R'hazi's eyes move from Channa to Rhane. He offers her what might pass for the beginnings of a smile, but it's very subtle. He remains silent at Th'lash's side, otherwise.
. o O Moulin thinks, "Merci, Pere! Merci beaucoup! Comme grande vous jtes. Phre Merveilleux, Seigneur... Merci."
. o O R'hazi feels curious and vaguely amused.
Th'lash shakes her towards Goodwin. "No thank you. I wish to confirm that I will be accepted as an ambassador and that myself and my aid are welcome. Once such is done, we shall retire early as we have had a long journey." She looks to Moulin now. "I am the mother of R'hazi, child. He is my aide and guard, and my bonded child. Further we are only superior to those races which choose to be inferior." Then to Nabrun. "A pleasure, Lieutenant Nabrun." Then back to Moulin. "What did you just think? Meersey Comme?"
. o O Channa a little embarassed and unsure about speaking up infront of so many important people.
"There shouldn't be any problems with that, Ambassador," Rhane replies to Th'lash warmly. "Commander Goodwin merely needs to officially confirm your diplomatic credentials. But you're certainly welcome here, and as soon as those formalities are out of the way, your voice will be accepted just as any of our own."
K'net-mauri remains silent, looking at R'hazi in a contemplative way.
Beraq continues to stay silent as the conversation goes around her. Her hazel eyes look over the Th'lash and R'hazi giving only a glimmer of curiosity.
. o O Channa thinks, "How different are you from your cousins, if I may ask?"
. o O Th'lash thinks, "I could not hear all of that, child?"
. o O Beraq thinks, "It would seem that they bear some mind reading traits...much like Betazoids. How very interesting."
Simultaneously realizing this is his job, Goodwin steps forward. "Might I ask if you carry a Letter of Introduction from the Marcedans, Madam Ambassador?" The second officer keeps his hands folded at a sort of parade rest. "And ask from what system your race calls home?"
. o O Goodwin thinks, "It's just like accepting credentials from the Klingons or Romulans or Orions. Only, instead, it's a whole new race."
. o O Channa projects, "I'm sorry, sometimes I can not understand all you think. Perhaps when we have a moment I shall speak with you."
Nabrun remains quiet, relaxed, listening and watching. She is a passive observer, apparently part of the woodwork.
. o O Th'lash projects, "O-ry-ans? We have heard of the Klingons, but not these people?"
Kirkpatrick remains silent, observing Th'lash and her attendant, awaiting to see how this First Contact encounter folds out.
. o O Th'lash projects, "Your mind is strong child, far stronger than the others here."
Having made his one comment for the day, Watters simply goes back to standing there silently. His gaze does still linger on the two Marcedans, still regarding them rather curiously.
"Ah, again, Madame... forgive me," ENS Moulin offers Th'lash an abashed smile. "On my planet, though we have adopted Federation Standard, there are still many regional languages, dialects, that exist from the time before our race was unified. The region of Earth or Terra, as it is known to some, that is my home was called France, and I consider the regional language my native tongue. So, frequently, my thoughts are au Francais, in French. Merci beaucoup means 'thank you very much'.
. o O Rhane thinks, "If you like, Ambassador, we could meet after you have had a chance to rest, and I would be happy to tell you about them in some detail."
Kran'dok does not relax or change posture at all, even as things seem to be going smoothly.
. o O Th'lash thinks, "I would like that, Ambassador Rhane. I look forward to it."
. o O Nabrun's mind-voice is quiet and calm. "You honor me. Thank you."
Channa looks towards Th'lash and smiles warmly. "We all have much to learn from each other, your presence on the diplomatic council will be most enjoyable and a learning experiance for us all." She says, "I am a lover of culture and history, and am most eager to add yours to those I know. " She says just as quiet.
. o O Rhane thinks, "As do I, Ambassador."
R'hazi's eyes shift to K'net-mauri, meeting the older man's eyes with the unabashed concentration of youth. Looking back to the group at large, however, he states, "It will be our pleasure." And, his mouth rising slightly, he waits for his mother to lead them out.
Th'lash frowns to Goodwin slightly and then withdraws a small disc from her robe. "This is my badge of rank, Lieutenant Commander," she says offering him it. Its metallic in texture yet purple is color. The surface is etched in a patterned design similar to her robes. "I suspect this should suffice."
. o O Channa thinks, "The man is insufferable."
. o O Moulin thinks, "He certainly meant no insult, Madame. Protocol can be very specific, as you know. He does only his duty--it is my heartfelt hope you forgive him that."
. o O Moulin feels soothing, accepting.
. o O Rhane thinks, "I do not disagree, but he is only doing his job. Ambassador Th'lash, his intentions *are* good, even if his methods are somewhat... clumsy."
. o O Th'lash seems slightly confused. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch all of that. I am not upset. I was simply surprised at the request."
. o O Channa projects, "I truly hope you can guide him and help him along a little. He's done nothing but belittle me since he got here."
"Please forgive the inconvenience of these procedures, Ambassador," Rhane smiles to Th'lash. "It shouldn't take more than a few moments to get these out of the way, and then you can retire for the evening."
K'net-mauri looks back at the young Mercadan. He smiles at R'hazi, but doesn't comment.
. o O Rhane thinks, "Ah... you will have to forgive me, Ambassador. My telepathic abilities are not as developed, I am afraid, as my use of the spoken word. A career spent working with individuals who do not have telepathic abilities -- and, in some cases, even view such abilities with mistrust -- has led me to focus more on verbal communication. I may misunderstand from time to time; it is an unfortunate byproduct of infrequent use of these talents."
Beraq gives a little smile and says nothing, continuing to stay towards the background.
Goodwin peers at the rank insignia and nods his head. "Generally," says the Lieutenant Commander, a touch apologetically. "It is standard for a government to send a letter introducing its ambassadors. Perhaps you can tell me about where you come from instead, and its government? So I may know more fully of whom you represent?"
. o O Goodwin thinks, "Just need to know they don't come from, well, nowhere is all, Josh."
. o O Beraq thinks, "Please forgive the Commander, he's rather uncouth and stupid. But has his own uses."
. o O Beraq feels amused at Goodwin's expense.
. o O Moulin thinks, "Zut alors, Josh! That could take some time... allow them in first."
. o O Beraq thinks, "I'm rather prejudiced in that matter so you'll have to make your own decisions."
Th'lash smiles slightly to Goodwin. "After leaving the planet of war, we settled near here in a place you call the Venturis Sector. Many many years ago we left to seek peace elsewhere and are now returning to our home."
Nabrun takes a step forward and offers, quietly, "Commander, shall I go make sure that conference room is prepared for our visitors? I believe it will be more comfortable for all concerned if we were to settle in there. That way people might sit and talk."
Kirkpatrick remains silent. The attention of the Planetary Sciences officer is no longer directed to the visitors, but to Th'lash's medallion, which he peers at with theinquisitiveness of the rockhound he truly is.
. o O Moulin thinks, "Counselor Nabrun, you are an angel."
Watters remains standing in his place silently, just keeping an eye on the proceedings as they're going on.
. o O Th'lash thinks, "There is nothing to apologize for, Ambassador Rhane. Even my mind is not overly developed."
Moulin has subsided into silence, but appears to remain very alert and... engaged in the proceedings somehow.
GAME: Goodwin contests his Intellect/Logic vs Moderate and Succeeds.
. o O Beraq thinks, "Ahh that would explain the strange ships in that sector."
Kran'dok quietly observes the exchange then glances back towards the airlock one last time. It seems all is in order for the moment. He has not moved, to even crack a smile, from his initial position this entire time.
. o O Nabrun is, apparently, a touch amused by something. The calm serenity remains in place. She seems relaxed and comfortable with the situation, neither excited nor utterly flat.
Channa sighs softly and stands back out of the way and seeks refuged behind Rhane's back. She looks around for the Enign and smiles at him softly when she finds him like her self larking in the back.
R'hazi waits tolerantly, his attention wandering over the assembled crowd.
. o O Kran'dok thinks, "This has gone surprisingly smoothly so far. I would have expected more of an embarrassment."
Th'lash lets her gaze wonder around those gathered, before it falls on Kran'dok and she raises both eyebrows. Its Vulcan like, except its both and not one. The eyebrows lower again yet her gaze says on Kran'dok.
"I take it, then, it makes you something of an Ambassador at-Large?" questions Goodwin, tilting his head to the side curiously. "Which is to say that you were not sent here by your government, but rather by your travels about our systems?" As if this is all slowly beginning to make sense.
. o O Goodwin is having an ah-ha moment. Or at least thinks he is.
. o O Channa mentally holds her breath and seems to wince at Goodwin ever other word.
K'net-mauri listens to the exchange, with an expression of mild amusement. But he still says nothing.
. o O Channa thinks, "He needs to stop looking at everything as if it's black or white."
Beraq continues to be silent as well, content to let the Federation and Starfleet speak.
Th'lash smiles slightly to Goodwin. "No, I was sent here specifically, Lieutenant Commander. However, of you would like we can leave," she offers honestly.
. o O Th'lash is rather amused.
. o O Beraq thinks, "Oh no, I hope not...having them would certainly be interesting."
. o O Beraq feels annoyed, specifically at Goodwin.
. o O Th'lash thinks, "Maybe I could bring a rock from Kolash for him. A small, black rock with pink sparkles. I wonder if that would be proof enough."
Goodwin opens his mouth to say something, and then turns his head towards Nabrun. "I don't think that will be necessary, Counselor. They've had a long journey, and I'm sure they'd like to rest." He turns back to Th'lash. "In my excitement to meet you, I detain you too long, Madam Ambassador. It is my pleasure on behalf of the Federation Starfleet and the United Federation of Planets to welcome you as Ambassador Extraordinary and Minister Plenapatentiary to the Dulcais Sector Diplomatic Conference on behalf of the Marcedan people."
. o O Goodwin perhaps gets the hint and just gets it over with.
. o O Channa thinks, "We don't wish for you to leave, here he is untrained in such matters it seems. We want you here truly, please I beg you we are not all as up tight and strick as he is. We can not build friendship unless we have trust first."
. o O Th'lash projects, "Do not beg, child. Begging is for those with heart and no shame. Do not dishonor yourself."
Nabrun studies Goodwin for a moment then dips her head once. "Yes, Sir," she says quietly.
. o O Channa projects, "I am not honorable good Madam, but I shall not let this fragile alliance be ruined."
. o O Nabrun projects, "This is...new for us, Ambassador. Thank you for your patience."
Watters, not finding many security-like things to do, seems to just be standing... flexing his knees just slightly to keep the blood from pooling in his legs, but otherwise pretty still. Just watching.
. o O Rhane thinks, "Attachi... please. Do not besmirch Commander Goodwin's good name. Frustrating as this is, he's only trying to do his job... it's not his fault that his job is interfering with our own."
. o O Th'lash projects, "Is this attachi with the ...how do you say it, the Federation?"
. o O Rhane thinks, "The issue is resolved, and the formalities are out of the way. What's done is done. Ambassador Th'lash, if you would like to retire for the evening, it would be my pleasure to meet with you tomorrow, and answer any questions you might have."
. o O Channa thinks, "I am sorry, I have just had a tiring day and I'm not thinking straight."
Kran'dok does not flinch under the Ambassador's gaze. As it passes he not relax or change posture at all, even as things seem to be going smoothly.
Channa looks other towards Th'lash then back at Rhane, she dips her head then looks away again.
. o O Rhane thinks, "I completely understand, Attachi. As I said, what's done is done. No sense getting upset about it. But let's bring things to a close, so our guests can rest."
. o O Channa thinks, "Yes of course, we will all be better for a good nights rest."
. o O Kran'dok thinks, "I will not stop thinking simply because they appear to be telepaths. I am sure they will grow accustomed to the stray thoughts of others."
. o O Th'lash thinks, "I shall meet with you, Ambassador Rhane."
R'hazi's eyes shift from the crowd at large, to rest directly on Th'lash.
Th'lash smiles politely to Goodwin, then Rhane, then K'net-mauri, then Nabrun, and lastly Moulin, before she gestures to R'hazi. "I bid you all a pleasant evening. Please, if we could be shown to quarters? Our ship will be leaving within the hour." That said she starts to move at a slow pace, apparently expecting someone to lead the way.
Rhane returns the smile as she turns to Goodwin. "Commander, would you be so kind as to join me in escorting our guests to their quarters? I am still quite unfamiliar with the station's layout, and your assistance would be appreciated."
K'net-mauri smiles dryly. "I will bid you goodnight, then, Ambassador," he says to Th'lash.
Beraq bows to Th'lash, "May you enjoy your stay here Ambassador." She straightens, still carrying the ghost of a smile on her face.
. o O Beraq thinks, "Tomorrow's diplomatic meeting should be interesting...I hope they attend."
Goodwin continues to pass this down. "Of course. Ensign Moulin, can you please contact the quartermaster for assignments?" He gestures to the two ambassadors. "Might you wish one set of quarters or two, Madam Ambassador?" He leads towards the turbolift.
. o O Moulin feels pensive.
Nabrun steps in behind Goodwin, offering R'hazi a bit of a smile, movements easy and relaxed. Apparently, clearly, she intends to provide escort as well.
. o O Nabrun projects, "If it is permissible, I will accompany you both to quarters, along with Commander Goodwin."
. o O Th'lash projects, "It is permissible, child."
Moulin nods, stepping back and taking out her PADD. "Right away, sir."
Kran'dok shifts his stance for the first time all evening as it seems the event is breaking up. The slight change in movement might seem as if a mountain had just jumped in comparrison to how he has stood the entire time. He looks around one last time and prepares to escort the Ambassador back.
Channa mutter something as the little group appears to be braking up, slowly she edges towards the security Ensign.
. o O Moulin thinks, "I feel as though I missed something--Mon Dieu, he's charming when he wants to be, isn't he--there are FAR too many telepaths in this room..."
R'hazi catches Nabrun's smile and returns a lingering look, with the barest of smiles before he flanks Th'lash, preparing to leave.
So the latest visitors to Station 419 are greeted and accepted into the fold. The diplomatics spread and move off to return to their duties. What will the Marcedans bring? What is their relationship with the Romulans? Most importantly, why are they here?
