As Corina materialized onto the transporter pad, she breathed a sigh of relief. While not terrified of the concept, having her molecules taken apart and sent just like a text document was unsettling.
She stepped down for the transporter and smiled at the Ensign there to greet her.
"Ensign Corina Jarr reporting for duty."
"Welcome aboard. I'm Ensign Gomes. You are in the medical department, so you will report to Lieutenant Westwood at 0700 tomorrow morning. The general sickbay is on deck 2, while the emergency triage center is on deck 5. Here is a map of the ship; you're quarters are marked. Any questions, feel free to ask."
Corina accepted the pad. Hearing the transporter activate, she decided to hold her questions until later and headed off to her quarters.
The Earth/Romulan War EPISODE I
Re: The Earth/Romulan War EPISODE I
No trees were killed in transmission of this message. However, some electrons were mildly inconvenienced.
Re: The Earth/Romulan War EPISODE I
Brigston walked down the corridors of the Aegis, now headed to his quarters. He had spent the best part of an hour exploring the ship, and had a good idea of where exactly everything was. He then arrived outside of his quarters. Brigston entered his quarters as the the doors opened with a swish. Upon first look those who had not served on a starship before would have been appalled by how small the room was, but to Brigston it was like a palace, or at least bigger than his old room on his last posting, a Neptune class.
The quarters looked to be split into two rooms, but that was just because of a privacy screen which was currently drawn, Daniel guessed behind it was the bedroom, or beds at the very least . The main living area was quite bare, with a two small sofas and a coffee table. Upon one wall was a viewscreen and computer terminal and on the other were various cabinets, and closets, some of which having already been filled. Obviously his room mate had already been around, Daniel mused, since he didn't recognize any of the stuff as his.
Looking over to the corner he spotted his chests, still shut. He wandered over to them but was suddenly taken by surprise by a noise from behind him. He quickly spun round to face his attacker, to find a young ensign.
“Ah Hello, sorry, did I scare you” The Ensign asked. “I guess your my room mate” He continued. “Hi, I'm Josh, Josh Thompson, I'm an engineer, yourself?”
“Chief helmsman, and the names Daniel Brigston, but you can call me Danny when we're informal if you like, I was just about to unpack”
Just then the intercom chimed in. “All senior staff report to the briefing room. All senior staff report to the briefing room.”
“Well, I guess that doesn't mean us.” Said Josh. “Actually, I probably do need to be there, I think. I better go, just in case.” Daniel replied, “See you later on I guess.” With that he left back out into the corridor, heading to the briefing room.
The quarters looked to be split into two rooms, but that was just because of a privacy screen which was currently drawn, Daniel guessed behind it was the bedroom, or beds at the very least . The main living area was quite bare, with a two small sofas and a coffee table. Upon one wall was a viewscreen and computer terminal and on the other were various cabinets, and closets, some of which having already been filled. Obviously his room mate had already been around, Daniel mused, since he didn't recognize any of the stuff as his.
Looking over to the corner he spotted his chests, still shut. He wandered over to them but was suddenly taken by surprise by a noise from behind him. He quickly spun round to face his attacker, to find a young ensign.
“Ah Hello, sorry, did I scare you” The Ensign asked. “I guess your my room mate” He continued. “Hi, I'm Josh, Josh Thompson, I'm an engineer, yourself?”
“Chief helmsman, and the names Daniel Brigston, but you can call me Danny when we're informal if you like, I was just about to unpack”
Just then the intercom chimed in. “All senior staff report to the briefing room. All senior staff report to the briefing room.”
“Well, I guess that doesn't mean us.” Said Josh. “Actually, I probably do need to be there, I think. I better go, just in case.” Daniel replied, “See you later on I guess.” With that he left back out into the corridor, heading to the briefing room.
Bite my shiny metal ass
-
Sonic Glitch
- Rear Admiral
- Posts: 6026
- Joined: Thu May 22, 2008 2:11 am
- Location: Any ol' place here on Earth or in space. You pick the century and I'll pick the spot
Re: The Earth/Romulan War EPISODE I
USS AEGIS – Earth Starfleet Drydock 01
The senior staff gathered in the briefing room. The room itself was a small testament to the changes between the NX class and the newer ships. On the Buran staff briefings had been held on the bridge around the situation table. Thanks to advances in miniaturization brought on by the captured Orion ship, there now existed a separate room for information related meetings. For many of the staff this was their first time seeing each other again since coming aboard. Pleasantries were exchanged as they entered, Captain Federov had not yet arrived.
Commander Fulton entered with his usual gruff bearing, sparing many of those assembled a terse nod of recognition to those present while silently lamenting the changes – or lack thereof in the case of some of his suggestions – made to the class. Lieutenant Sinclair was seated already at the table observing the arrival of the others. Captain Nelson arrived taking a one of two seats left in the middle of the table. He was shortly joined, much to his annoyance, by Lieutenant Westwood, whom he greeted with a glare in response to the doctors waist of his resources. Before he could do much more than glare heavily, Captain Federov entered.
Harvey watched him as he crossed to the front of the room; comparing him to the armory officer he met those years ago. On the Buran Federov seemed a jolly enough fellow, serious about his duties but with a ready smile and a humorous twinkle in his eye. The smile was still present, but he had a more serious, more lined expression and the twinkle had a deadened look.
Glancing around at the assembled faces before speaking, It’s time. We have a job to do.” Pausing for a moment he continued, “we are currently awaiting the arrival of one officer but she has been briefed on the situation so we will not delay. After our launch, we are to rendezvous with Task Group 3.15, consisting of the Neptune, Ajax,[i/] and Burke at the current border. Once there, it is their job to clear the border for us. That’s right everyone, we are leading Starfleet’s first strike mission.” He paused a moment to allow that to sink in.
After a moment of stunned silence, Lieutenant Sinclair spoke up to ask, "What sir, are we striking?”
Before Federov could reply, he was interrupted by a call from the wall mounted communicator. Upon answering he heard the voice of his yeoman Xiva (prompting a surprised look of recognition from Captain Nelson) saying, “Captain, transporter room reports that our science officer has arrived.”
“Very good. Director her to the briefing room if you will please.”
“Aye sir.”
Moments later, former Vulcan Subcommander T’Varaan entered the room. Now wearing a Starfleet jumpsuit, laced with blue and the rank of Commander. This prompted a number of surprised looks from the assembled officers. To the captain she spoke, "I apologize for my late arrival. Due to a scheduling mishap, my shuttle pod was delayed. Permission to come aboard Captain?”
Federov’s mouth twitched at the Commander’s respect for procedure despite the fact that she was most assuredly aboard already. “Granted Commander, granted.” He stood to allow her access to the only other chair in the room. She accepted with a raise of the eyebrow and a nod of the head. Recognizing several comrades from the Buran she greeted them, “It is agreeable to see you again.” As soon as she sat down, Fulton leaned over in his manner and asked,
“Pardon me if this seems insensitive, but I thought the Vulcans decided to stay out of our little tussle with the Romulans?”
T’Varaan closed her eyes in a momentary expression of irritation, but this reaction was not entirely un-expected. “While the official position of the Vulcan Government is neutrality, it is not responsible for the actions of private citizens. I received a communiqué from Starfleet Command informing me that Captain Federov was looking for someone to fill the science officer position. The position seemed intriguing, so I left the Vulcan Science Directorate and accepted a Starfleet commission.”
But Fulton was not yet satisfied, “Begging your pardon but you didn’t seem particularly enamored with humans on the Buran. Why the change of heart?”
“The position seemed a fascinating opportunity, and I felt I was reasonably qualified for the job. Whatever other reasons I may have for my presence, remain mine.”
Federov decided to regain control of the briefing at that moment. Glancing at Sinclair he resumed, “I believe you asked what we are striking? Based on their analyses of Romulan shipping patterns, Starfleet Intelligence has concluded that there must be a depot of some sort located in the Asteroid Belt of the Orias System. Our mission is to rendezvous with the Task Group, and once we do, they will aid us in clearing whatever opposition we encounter along the border. Once the way is clear, they will break off to spend time raising pure bloody hell along the border with other elements of the Third Fleet. Our mission is to cross the border, and eliminate the supply post.”
The news was greeted by a moment of silent consideration, before heads along the table began nodding.
“When do we leave?” asked Sinclair.
“45 minutes. Even at Warp 6, it will still take 3 days to reach the rendezvous. I want all departments to be ready. Captain, Lieutenant,” he continued, turning to focus on Everett and Brian, “First off, I want everyone to be trained on the new laser sidearm’s. Secondly, I want the MACOs and our security forces to begin training on working as an integrated unit. Much as we tried on the Buran Captain.” He concluded with a wry smile at Nelson. “Commander Fulton, everything you can give me as soon as you can.”
Fulton responded with a muttered “Yeah, Yeah. I know, the usual.”
Federov continued to the newly arrived CMO, “Doctor, I want sickbay fully function as soon as possible.”
Westwood merely nodded “Aye sir.”
“Very well, be ready for departure in 45minutes.”
USS AEGIS Bridge 45 minutes later.
Everyone began taking their places on the bridge, adjusting to the new layout. Commander T’Varaan sat at Science, while Sinclair manned the weapons console and Lieutenant Brigstone sat at the helm, next to Lieutenant Styles at Navigation. Federov sat in the center seat, observing the preparations. Finally, after another glance around he opened the intercom to his department heads,
“Attention, I now require final ‘Go’ or ‘No Go’ status from each department before launch.”
“Engineering?”
“As Go as we’ll ever be” responded Fulton.
“Life Support?”
“Go.”
“Sickbay?”
“Go” came Westwood’s slightly shakey voice.
“MACO Command?”
“Go” replied Captain Nelson
Looking over his shoulder, Federov called, “Tactical?”
“Ready and able sir” replied Sinclair
“Science?”
T’Vaaran nodded.
“Very well, All decks, prepare for immediate departure.”
“Dock control reports ready” said Brigtsone, “Helm ready. Yard command signaling clear”
“Maneuvering thrusters mister Brigstone. Station-keeping.”
“Thrusters at staion-keeping.”
“Take us out Mr. Brigstone. One quarter impulse power.”
There was a subtle change in the vibration of the ship as Aegis began to glide forward, out of the metal cage that had held her the past 8 months. She seemed almost as eager to be underway as they were. If the circumstances had been less dire, it would have been a cause for celebration. Has things were, the whole occasion was markedly subdued. As Aegis cleared Jupiter, she was cleared for warp travel.
“Mr. Stiles, plot a course for Point Luck and transmit it to the helm.”
“Aye sir, course plotted and laid in.”
“Helm confirms captain.” Replied Brigstone.
“Sir,” called Sinclair, “We’ve received a text message from Admiral Black’s office. It reads, ‘Good luck Aegis, and Godspeed.”
Federov acknowledged the communiqué with a small nod. “Mr. Brigstone,Warp 5. Engage.”
The senior staff gathered in the briefing room. The room itself was a small testament to the changes between the NX class and the newer ships. On the Buran staff briefings had been held on the bridge around the situation table. Thanks to advances in miniaturization brought on by the captured Orion ship, there now existed a separate room for information related meetings. For many of the staff this was their first time seeing each other again since coming aboard. Pleasantries were exchanged as they entered, Captain Federov had not yet arrived.
Commander Fulton entered with his usual gruff bearing, sparing many of those assembled a terse nod of recognition to those present while silently lamenting the changes – or lack thereof in the case of some of his suggestions – made to the class. Lieutenant Sinclair was seated already at the table observing the arrival of the others. Captain Nelson arrived taking a one of two seats left in the middle of the table. He was shortly joined, much to his annoyance, by Lieutenant Westwood, whom he greeted with a glare in response to the doctors waist of his resources. Before he could do much more than glare heavily, Captain Federov entered.
Harvey watched him as he crossed to the front of the room; comparing him to the armory officer he met those years ago. On the Buran Federov seemed a jolly enough fellow, serious about his duties but with a ready smile and a humorous twinkle in his eye. The smile was still present, but he had a more serious, more lined expression and the twinkle had a deadened look.
Glancing around at the assembled faces before speaking, It’s time. We have a job to do.” Pausing for a moment he continued, “we are currently awaiting the arrival of one officer but she has been briefed on the situation so we will not delay. After our launch, we are to rendezvous with Task Group 3.15, consisting of the Neptune, Ajax,[i/] and Burke at the current border. Once there, it is their job to clear the border for us. That’s right everyone, we are leading Starfleet’s first strike mission.” He paused a moment to allow that to sink in.
After a moment of stunned silence, Lieutenant Sinclair spoke up to ask, "What sir, are we striking?”
Before Federov could reply, he was interrupted by a call from the wall mounted communicator. Upon answering he heard the voice of his yeoman Xiva (prompting a surprised look of recognition from Captain Nelson) saying, “Captain, transporter room reports that our science officer has arrived.”
“Very good. Director her to the briefing room if you will please.”
“Aye sir.”
Moments later, former Vulcan Subcommander T’Varaan entered the room. Now wearing a Starfleet jumpsuit, laced with blue and the rank of Commander. This prompted a number of surprised looks from the assembled officers. To the captain she spoke, "I apologize for my late arrival. Due to a scheduling mishap, my shuttle pod was delayed. Permission to come aboard Captain?”
Federov’s mouth twitched at the Commander’s respect for procedure despite the fact that she was most assuredly aboard already. “Granted Commander, granted.” He stood to allow her access to the only other chair in the room. She accepted with a raise of the eyebrow and a nod of the head. Recognizing several comrades from the Buran she greeted them, “It is agreeable to see you again.” As soon as she sat down, Fulton leaned over in his manner and asked,
“Pardon me if this seems insensitive, but I thought the Vulcans decided to stay out of our little tussle with the Romulans?”
T’Varaan closed her eyes in a momentary expression of irritation, but this reaction was not entirely un-expected. “While the official position of the Vulcan Government is neutrality, it is not responsible for the actions of private citizens. I received a communiqué from Starfleet Command informing me that Captain Federov was looking for someone to fill the science officer position. The position seemed intriguing, so I left the Vulcan Science Directorate and accepted a Starfleet commission.”
But Fulton was not yet satisfied, “Begging your pardon but you didn’t seem particularly enamored with humans on the Buran. Why the change of heart?”
“The position seemed a fascinating opportunity, and I felt I was reasonably qualified for the job. Whatever other reasons I may have for my presence, remain mine.”
Federov decided to regain control of the briefing at that moment. Glancing at Sinclair he resumed, “I believe you asked what we are striking? Based on their analyses of Romulan shipping patterns, Starfleet Intelligence has concluded that there must be a depot of some sort located in the Asteroid Belt of the Orias System. Our mission is to rendezvous with the Task Group, and once we do, they will aid us in clearing whatever opposition we encounter along the border. Once the way is clear, they will break off to spend time raising pure bloody hell along the border with other elements of the Third Fleet. Our mission is to cross the border, and eliminate the supply post.”
The news was greeted by a moment of silent consideration, before heads along the table began nodding.
“When do we leave?” asked Sinclair.
“45 minutes. Even at Warp 6, it will still take 3 days to reach the rendezvous. I want all departments to be ready. Captain, Lieutenant,” he continued, turning to focus on Everett and Brian, “First off, I want everyone to be trained on the new laser sidearm’s. Secondly, I want the MACOs and our security forces to begin training on working as an integrated unit. Much as we tried on the Buran Captain.” He concluded with a wry smile at Nelson. “Commander Fulton, everything you can give me as soon as you can.”
Fulton responded with a muttered “Yeah, Yeah. I know, the usual.”
Federov continued to the newly arrived CMO, “Doctor, I want sickbay fully function as soon as possible.”
Westwood merely nodded “Aye sir.”
“Very well, be ready for departure in 45minutes.”
USS AEGIS Bridge 45 minutes later.
Everyone began taking their places on the bridge, adjusting to the new layout. Commander T’Varaan sat at Science, while Sinclair manned the weapons console and Lieutenant Brigstone sat at the helm, next to Lieutenant Styles at Navigation. Federov sat in the center seat, observing the preparations. Finally, after another glance around he opened the intercom to his department heads,
“Attention, I now require final ‘Go’ or ‘No Go’ status from each department before launch.”
“Engineering?”
“As Go as we’ll ever be” responded Fulton.
“Life Support?”
“Go.”
“Sickbay?”
“Go” came Westwood’s slightly shakey voice.
“MACO Command?”
“Go” replied Captain Nelson
Looking over his shoulder, Federov called, “Tactical?”
“Ready and able sir” replied Sinclair
“Science?”
T’Vaaran nodded.
“Very well, All decks, prepare for immediate departure.”
“Dock control reports ready” said Brigtsone, “Helm ready. Yard command signaling clear”
“Maneuvering thrusters mister Brigstone. Station-keeping.”
“Thrusters at staion-keeping.”
“Take us out Mr. Brigstone. One quarter impulse power.”
There was a subtle change in the vibration of the ship as Aegis began to glide forward, out of the metal cage that had held her the past 8 months. She seemed almost as eager to be underway as they were. If the circumstances had been less dire, it would have been a cause for celebration. Has things were, the whole occasion was markedly subdued. As Aegis cleared Jupiter, she was cleared for warp travel.
“Mr. Stiles, plot a course for Point Luck and transmit it to the helm.”
“Aye sir, course plotted and laid in.”
“Helm confirms captain.” Replied Brigstone.
“Sir,” called Sinclair, “We’ve received a text message from Admiral Black’s office. It reads, ‘Good luck Aegis, and Godspeed.”
Federov acknowledged the communiqué with a small nod. “Mr. Brigstone,Warp 5. Engage.”
"All this has happened before --"
"But it doesn't have to happen again. Not if we make up our minds to change. Take a different path. Right here, right now."
"But it doesn't have to happen again. Not if we make up our minds to change. Take a different path. Right here, right now."
-
Mikey
- Fleet Admiral
- Posts: 35635
- Joined: Fri Jul 27, 2007 3:04 am
- Commendations: The Daystrom Award
- Location: down the shore, New Jersey, USA
- Contact:
Re: The Earth/Romulan War EPISODE I
Harvey sat motionless, watching the core status display, until he was satisfied that the warp drive would do what it was asked. He then swept up a couple of dataslates from his workbench and headed for the door. As it whisked open, he was surprised to see T'Varaan standing there.
"Mr. Fulton," she said, "just the person for whom I was looking."
"Hooray for me," Fulton replied sarcastically. However, the Vulcan was one of the people he'd mind the least right now. He knew that she shared his disdain for empty small talk, and would likely shut up when she was done making her point. He actually almost felt bad for riding her at the briefing, but she didn't seem to have noticed at all. "What can I do for you?"
"With the timing of my appointment, I unfortunately haven't had a chance to review all of the specifications of the Aegis. What is your assessment?"
"My assessment?" Harvey barked. "My professional, detached assessment is this: none of the high brass-holes or stuffed shirts that stood between the design of this ship and its construction could find his own ass with both hands and a bloodhound."
T'Varaan thought about this for a moment and said, "Do I take it that the execution of the build means that this ship is less capable than one would expect?"
Harvey rounded on her and exclaimed, "Don't you talk about this ship like that!" He turned back and headed for the turbolift, motioning for T'Varaan to follow. He certainly didn't mind an audience when he was working on a good rant. "No, it's little things... corners were cut, and politicians and pencil-pushers thought that they knew how to amend a design better than engineers." They entered the turbolift and Harvey ordered, "Barracks!" He sighed and continued to T'Varaan, "The transporter buffers weren't correctly insulated; the SIF emitters were routed every two meters, instead of every one-and-a-half like my specification called for; the laser cannon energizing chambers weren't properly shielded from the warp core emissions. Nothing that'll affect day-to-day performance, but things I want corrected before they get tried under fire." The lift stopped and opened, and Harvey said, "Here," as he tossed her a dataslate and walked off down the hall.
"Nelson!" Harvey shouted, looking around. He shouted again, until Nelson poked his head out of a briefing room. Seeing who was there, Nelson sighed and came out into the corridor.
"I'm a little busy right now, Lt. Commander," Nelson said tiredly. "Whatever it is, can you go talk to someone else?"
"Nonsense," Harvey said dismissively. "I need some of your boys for a few jobs. Two, maybe three squads should do."
"My 'boys' are not day labor, and aren't available. Now, please excuse me."
"Listen here, son," Harvey began, "I've got-"
Nelson drew himself up. "I said NO! What part of that can't you understand?" Nelson paused, then went on, "Besides - I don't think I could help someone who didn't comply with ship policy."
"What are you on about, boy?" said Harvey irritatedly.
"I don't see you on the schedule for sidearm certification, Lt. Commander."
"And you won't, either," answered Harvey. "I've got better things to do than play with your toys."
"Perhaps I can help," said a low female voice from behind Fulton. He turned, annoyed to see that T'Varaan had followed him from the turbolift. "My staff has little to do until we approach the border... I'm sure I can allocate some personnel to assist you."
"Thank you," Harvey said curtly, then turned toward Nelson. "Now you see, there's-"
"I'll send some people to you as soon as you are scheduled for sidearm certification."
Harvey threw his hands in the air, and stalked off grumbling, "It's a damned conspiracy, is what it is..."
"Mr. Fulton," she said, "just the person for whom I was looking."
"Hooray for me," Fulton replied sarcastically. However, the Vulcan was one of the people he'd mind the least right now. He knew that she shared his disdain for empty small talk, and would likely shut up when she was done making her point. He actually almost felt bad for riding her at the briefing, but she didn't seem to have noticed at all. "What can I do for you?"
"With the timing of my appointment, I unfortunately haven't had a chance to review all of the specifications of the Aegis. What is your assessment?"
"My assessment?" Harvey barked. "My professional, detached assessment is this: none of the high brass-holes or stuffed shirts that stood between the design of this ship and its construction could find his own ass with both hands and a bloodhound."
T'Varaan thought about this for a moment and said, "Do I take it that the execution of the build means that this ship is less capable than one would expect?"
Harvey rounded on her and exclaimed, "Don't you talk about this ship like that!" He turned back and headed for the turbolift, motioning for T'Varaan to follow. He certainly didn't mind an audience when he was working on a good rant. "No, it's little things... corners were cut, and politicians and pencil-pushers thought that they knew how to amend a design better than engineers." They entered the turbolift and Harvey ordered, "Barracks!" He sighed and continued to T'Varaan, "The transporter buffers weren't correctly insulated; the SIF emitters were routed every two meters, instead of every one-and-a-half like my specification called for; the laser cannon energizing chambers weren't properly shielded from the warp core emissions. Nothing that'll affect day-to-day performance, but things I want corrected before they get tried under fire." The lift stopped and opened, and Harvey said, "Here," as he tossed her a dataslate and walked off down the hall.
"Nelson!" Harvey shouted, looking around. He shouted again, until Nelson poked his head out of a briefing room. Seeing who was there, Nelson sighed and came out into the corridor.
"I'm a little busy right now, Lt. Commander," Nelson said tiredly. "Whatever it is, can you go talk to someone else?"
"Nonsense," Harvey said dismissively. "I need some of your boys for a few jobs. Two, maybe three squads should do."
"My 'boys' are not day labor, and aren't available. Now, please excuse me."
"Listen here, son," Harvey began, "I've got-"
Nelson drew himself up. "I said NO! What part of that can't you understand?" Nelson paused, then went on, "Besides - I don't think I could help someone who didn't comply with ship policy."
"What are you on about, boy?" said Harvey irritatedly.
"I don't see you on the schedule for sidearm certification, Lt. Commander."
"And you won't, either," answered Harvey. "I've got better things to do than play with your toys."
"Perhaps I can help," said a low female voice from behind Fulton. He turned, annoyed to see that T'Varaan had followed him from the turbolift. "My staff has little to do until we approach the border... I'm sure I can allocate some personnel to assist you."
"Thank you," Harvey said curtly, then turned toward Nelson. "Now you see, there's-"
"I'll send some people to you as soon as you are scheduled for sidearm certification."
Harvey threw his hands in the air, and stalked off grumbling, "It's a damned conspiracy, is what it is..."
I can't stand nothing dull
I got the high gloss luster
I'll massacre your ass as fast
as Bull offed Custer
I got the high gloss luster
I'll massacre your ass as fast
as Bull offed Custer
-
alexmann
- Lieutenant Commander
- Posts: 912
- Joined: Fri May 27, 2011 6:52 pm
- Location: I'm in your mind!
Re: The Earth/Romulan War EPISODE I
It was 1700 hours and Lieutenant Westwood was on his way to his quaters to get some rest when he remembered his sidearm certification. Damn he thought. He rushed to the firing range and grabbed a pistol. Just then, Nelson walked in.
"Commander. To get your sidearm certification you must be able to safely ready the weapon, and discharge it consistently and accurately at stationary and moving targets". He withdrew his sidearm and demonstrated both several times. Westwood got the hang of it almost immediately and soon Nelson informed him "Thats enough. Sidearm certification granted".
"Thanks. Would you mind training me in use of the rifles too?" Vic asked.
"Those are for use strictly by MACO forces and Security officer's only withought special permission from either the Chief of Security or me" Nelson replied, annoyed.
"I've got nothing but hostility from you since I arrived on the Aegis and I demand to know why!"
"Commander. To get your sidearm certification you must be able to safely ready the weapon, and discharge it consistently and accurately at stationary and moving targets". He withdrew his sidearm and demonstrated both several times. Westwood got the hang of it almost immediately and soon Nelson informed him "Thats enough. Sidearm certification granted".
"Thanks. Would you mind training me in use of the rifles too?" Vic asked.
"Those are for use strictly by MACO forces and Security officer's only withought special permission from either the Chief of Security or me" Nelson replied, annoyed.
"I've got nothing but hostility from you since I arrived on the Aegis and I demand to know why!"
Last edited by alexmann on Mon Dec 19, 2011 10:37 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Re: The Earth/Romulan War EPISODE I
USS Aegis – Main Armory
To anybody that knew MACO Captain Everett Ernest Nelson, the pulsing vein in his forehead and the set of his jaw would have had them pulling up seats for what they would have bet was his incipient explosion on the young doctor. Nelson had, from the time he’s first become an enlisted Non Commissioned Officer had a very short temper with younger junior officers, as the several reprimands on his record indicated. Becoming an officer himself did nothing to change that, and if anything, gave him potentially greater latitude, as he now had the rank to back up his outburst. However, the hypothetical spectator may not have realized the abiding respect that Everett had developed for doctors in general, stemming from his near brush with death and his struggle back to health. For that reason, and that reason alone, he held his tongue, pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment, and counted quietly to ten before speaking.
“Why am I being hostile?” Nelson asked “Maybe it’s because you’re being so damned annoying. I have a newsflash for you Doctor Westwood, WE ARE AT WAR. Every man and woman on this ship is about to face the single most dangerous threat that humanity has ever faced.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Westwood demanded.
“Not from any indication I’ve seen.” Nelson replied “Or at least you don’t understand what that means or take it very seriously.”
“How the hell can you say that?” the young man asked, his voice rising.
“Let’s see,” Nelson replied ticking items off on his fingers “First, I’ve got to dispatch one of my Strikers to pick up all of your medical gear and schlep everything back here because….well, to be honest, I have no idea why. Second, as an Officer you are required to carry your sidearm at all times, where is it?”
Westwood glanced to his hip where his holster should have been belted but it was absent.
Nelson continued “Third, you come running in here without an appointment, help yourself to one of the weapons out of ships stores, and then act like a twelve year old having a temper tantrum because I said no about training the ships Doctor in MACO weapons. I have 51 MACOs under my command, and Lieutenant Sinclair has 23 Security Officers under his. I’ve got to get my men trained to act as a marine force when most have never even been on a spaceship before, Sinclair has to get his men trained in MACO assault weapons, as well as the Aegis’ Officers in Lasers, and the crew re qualified in phase pistols. There are exactly four qualified weapons instructors on this ship. Who would you like me NOT to train to do they’re job so I can train you to play soldier, Doctor?”
Nelson took the Laser pistol from Westwood and secured it, then turned again to ask “Maybe you’d like if I took our half naked Orion Yeoman, and slid her into the Imaging Chamber in sickbay to get some skin shots? And while I’m there, demand you teach me how to repair a combat injury to the heart. Then, when you say no, ask you what your problem is? I rather doubt it.”
With that Nelson gave the young Doctor a formal nod, spun on his heel, and left.
To anybody that knew MACO Captain Everett Ernest Nelson, the pulsing vein in his forehead and the set of his jaw would have had them pulling up seats for what they would have bet was his incipient explosion on the young doctor. Nelson had, from the time he’s first become an enlisted Non Commissioned Officer had a very short temper with younger junior officers, as the several reprimands on his record indicated. Becoming an officer himself did nothing to change that, and if anything, gave him potentially greater latitude, as he now had the rank to back up his outburst. However, the hypothetical spectator may not have realized the abiding respect that Everett had developed for doctors in general, stemming from his near brush with death and his struggle back to health. For that reason, and that reason alone, he held his tongue, pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment, and counted quietly to ten before speaking.
“Why am I being hostile?” Nelson asked “Maybe it’s because you’re being so damned annoying. I have a newsflash for you Doctor Westwood, WE ARE AT WAR. Every man and woman on this ship is about to face the single most dangerous threat that humanity has ever faced.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Westwood demanded.
“Not from any indication I’ve seen.” Nelson replied “Or at least you don’t understand what that means or take it very seriously.”
“How the hell can you say that?” the young man asked, his voice rising.
“Let’s see,” Nelson replied ticking items off on his fingers “First, I’ve got to dispatch one of my Strikers to pick up all of your medical gear and schlep everything back here because….well, to be honest, I have no idea why. Second, as an Officer you are required to carry your sidearm at all times, where is it?”
Westwood glanced to his hip where his holster should have been belted but it was absent.
Nelson continued “Third, you come running in here without an appointment, help yourself to one of the weapons out of ships stores, and then act like a twelve year old having a temper tantrum because I said no about training the ships Doctor in MACO weapons. I have 51 MACOs under my command, and Lieutenant Sinclair has 23 Security Officers under his. I’ve got to get my men trained to act as a marine force when most have never even been on a spaceship before, Sinclair has to get his men trained in MACO assault weapons, as well as the Aegis’ Officers in Lasers, and the crew re qualified in phase pistols. There are exactly four qualified weapons instructors on this ship. Who would you like me NOT to train to do they’re job so I can train you to play soldier, Doctor?”
Nelson took the Laser pistol from Westwood and secured it, then turned again to ask “Maybe you’d like if I took our half naked Orion Yeoman, and slid her into the Imaging Chamber in sickbay to get some skin shots? And while I’m there, demand you teach me how to repair a combat injury to the heart. Then, when you say no, ask you what your problem is? I rather doubt it.”
With that Nelson gave the young Doctor a formal nod, spun on his heel, and left.
They say that in the Army,
the women are mighty fine.
They look like Phyllis Diller,
and walk like Frankenstein.
the women are mighty fine.
They look like Phyllis Diller,
and walk like Frankenstein.
-
Reliant121
- 3 Star Admiral
- Posts: 12263
- Joined: Thu Jul 26, 2007 5:00 pm
Re: The Earth/Romulan War EPISODE I
T'Varaan paced the corridors of deck 3 deep in thought. It was agreeable to be among ones comrades and, dare she say it, one's friends again. They all acted exactly as she remembered. Fulton acted as if everyone, including her, were a mere child before him. Ironic, considering the Vulcan was at least 30 years his senior but she merely ignored it. He was a man of few words which she appreciated. The marine commander was, as always, harsh. She imagined it was required to be the head of such critical and yet such a hard group of men and women. Especially when one of them was an Orion. The lure of the Orions is...potent.
Stopping for a moment, the vulcan admired the ship that stood around her. In many ways, it was clear that the alliance of nations had a hand in her design. While the bulkheads were still unmistakeably Terran in origin, the high ceilings and wide corridors were much more in line with Vulcan warships. The numerous independent power relays, of which the head engineer seemed to complain about, was a redundant feature which most Tellarite cruisers utilized in order to keep them fighting for a long time. The doors were reinforced and and capable of pressure sealing, a feature common to Andorian warships. This strange mix of cultural ideas gave a ship that was surprisingly potent, given the technological limitations faced by the humans. This ship was even regarded as a match for the older Sh'Raan class war cruisers of the High Command. High praise indeed, as no-one but the Klingons had yet made a ship that strong.
Casually drifting into the turbolift, she commanded it to take her to the bridge. The doors opened up to a flurry of activity. Technicians and yeomen darted across bridge, a decidedly larger space than on the original NX class vessels. The walls were adorned in a light grey while the floors and the fixings were painted in darker greys and blacks. She walked to her station and sat at her seat, surveying the controls at her command. She was appreciative that the Vulcan Science Directorate had seen fit to help in the design of the sensors. The layout and structure of the sensor read outs were clearly Vulcan in origin and the clear detection power afforded by this suite blew the Buran out of the water.
"T'Varaan to Nelson," the commander keyed into the comms console. After a few minutes, he responded.
"Yes, What is it?" He sounded irritated. Then again, he always sounded irritated.
"I believe you wished for senior officers to be trained in the use of the new side-arms. I would like to schedule that in."
"Hmm. 13h00s Wednesday, two days time. Earliest I can fit you in. Sorry Commander, but you are low priority being the science officer." She thought for a moment.
"Be that as it may, I am also the second in command. Starfleet protocol dictates that when a flag officer is required for landing parties, the primary candidate is the 2iC followed by the weapons officer or master at arms. If you can do it earlier, it would be preferable." A long pause.
"Tomorrow, 15h45." The line went dead.
Stopping for a moment, the vulcan admired the ship that stood around her. In many ways, it was clear that the alliance of nations had a hand in her design. While the bulkheads were still unmistakeably Terran in origin, the high ceilings and wide corridors were much more in line with Vulcan warships. The numerous independent power relays, of which the head engineer seemed to complain about, was a redundant feature which most Tellarite cruisers utilized in order to keep them fighting for a long time. The doors were reinforced and and capable of pressure sealing, a feature common to Andorian warships. This strange mix of cultural ideas gave a ship that was surprisingly potent, given the technological limitations faced by the humans. This ship was even regarded as a match for the older Sh'Raan class war cruisers of the High Command. High praise indeed, as no-one but the Klingons had yet made a ship that strong.
Casually drifting into the turbolift, she commanded it to take her to the bridge. The doors opened up to a flurry of activity. Technicians and yeomen darted across bridge, a decidedly larger space than on the original NX class vessels. The walls were adorned in a light grey while the floors and the fixings were painted in darker greys and blacks. She walked to her station and sat at her seat, surveying the controls at her command. She was appreciative that the Vulcan Science Directorate had seen fit to help in the design of the sensors. The layout and structure of the sensor read outs were clearly Vulcan in origin and the clear detection power afforded by this suite blew the Buran out of the water.
"T'Varaan to Nelson," the commander keyed into the comms console. After a few minutes, he responded.
"Yes, What is it?" He sounded irritated. Then again, he always sounded irritated.
"I believe you wished for senior officers to be trained in the use of the new side-arms. I would like to schedule that in."
"Hmm. 13h00s Wednesday, two days time. Earliest I can fit you in. Sorry Commander, but you are low priority being the science officer." She thought for a moment.
"Be that as it may, I am also the second in command. Starfleet protocol dictates that when a flag officer is required for landing parties, the primary candidate is the 2iC followed by the weapons officer or master at arms. If you can do it earlier, it would be preferable." A long pause.
"Tomorrow, 15h45." The line went dead.
-
Mikey
- Fleet Admiral
- Posts: 35635
- Joined: Fri Jul 27, 2007 3:04 am
- Commendations: The Daystrom Award
- Location: down the shore, New Jersey, USA
- Contact:
Re: The Earth/Romulan War EPISODE I
As Harvey walked into the firing range, the new doctor walked out with a slightly sheepish expression. Harvey gave a mental shrug and strode up to where Nelson was standing. "Nelson!" he barked without preface. "Sorry about earlier, but do you have a minute to take care of that certification-izing now? Commander Vulcan won't lend me bodies until I'm done with this nonsense, and the sooner I can get to work the better for all of us. Deal?"
Nelson turned, stared at Harvey's extended hand for a moment, then shook it and sighed, "Fine. Let's get this over with. Where's your duty sidearm?" Nelson glanced pointedly at the tool belt around Harvey's waist where his holster should have been. Harvey held up a forestalling finger, then dug in the loops of the belt until he found the butt of the laser pistol wedged between a ball-peen hammer and plasma joiner. Nelson was about to give a scathing dress-down about the importance of the proper care of a weapon until he took a good look at the pistol in Fulton's hand. It was pristine, polished and smooth; and when Nelson took it from Harvey's hand to examine it, the safety, trigger, and power and focusing adjustments moved more smoothly and precisely than even a brand new one out of stores.
Nelson's appreciation for the condition of the pistol must have showed on his face, for Harvey smirked and said, "I am an engineer, you know. Now, what do I have to shoot to get outta here?"
The MACO gathered himself and indicated the far wall of the range. "You'll have a number of targets, both moving and stationary. Your certification will depend on both accuracy and time. Don't miss, and don't take forever. Now, lowest setting and take a position over by that railing." He moved over to the control console, waited for Fulton to get into position, and reminded the engineer, "Remember - there's no drift or lead with these. Shoot when you have a shot, and don't wait for a pattern of movement. Don't anticipate, we won't be seeing any Romulans that can run at the speed of light." Nelson reached down and punched a button on the console.
Downrange from Harvey, a humanoid silhouette opened from the wall. Harvey sighted and fired, and a "ping" sounded as the laser bolt struck the wall next to the figure's head. "Damn!" Harvey grunted, adjusted his aim, and fired again - striking the target squarely in the torso. Another target popped up along the right side of the range and began sliding towards the shooters' booths. Harvey swung the pistol over and fired, without taking the time to think about adjustments. The shot struck the moving target in its left shoulder, and a third target dropped from the ceiling to land halfway downrange. Once again, Harvey swung the pistol over and fired before his brain could analyze the target, scoring another hit. A new target appeared on the left, this time slowly retreating along the edge of the range. Harvey traced its movement, aimed, and fired... this time, missing the target high and to the right. Without a thought, Harvey adjusted and shot again knocking the head off of the silhouette. Finally a fifth target sprang up halfway downrange, dead center, and began advancing toward Harvey. "Time?" Fulton called.
Nelson pressed a button and the computer voice rang out, "15 seconds remaining." Harvey brought the pistol up into firing position and waited. "10 seconds," the computer called out and the target silhouette was now only meters from Harvey's position. What the hell are you doing, you crazy egghead? thought Nelson.
"5 seconds," the computer announced. The target came to a stop directly in front of Harvey, allowing the engineer barely enough room to hold the gun up to the figure's head and fire. Even at lowest power, the point-blank laser bolt melted the upper half of the silhouette's head.
"Got the last one real good, boss," Harvey commented as he engaged his safety and returned the weapon to its makeshift spot in his tool belt.
"Very funny," commented Nelson, "but if you try your little st-"
"What's the score, then?" Fulton interrupted.
Nelson stared daggers at the engineer, then checked the console. "71.4%, including three first-shot hits... within allotted time. Pass."
"I trust I'll see that certification in my record. Thank you, Mr. Nelson," Harvey said glibly as he turned and left the room.
Nelson turned, stared at Harvey's extended hand for a moment, then shook it and sighed, "Fine. Let's get this over with. Where's your duty sidearm?" Nelson glanced pointedly at the tool belt around Harvey's waist where his holster should have been. Harvey held up a forestalling finger, then dug in the loops of the belt until he found the butt of the laser pistol wedged between a ball-peen hammer and plasma joiner. Nelson was about to give a scathing dress-down about the importance of the proper care of a weapon until he took a good look at the pistol in Fulton's hand. It was pristine, polished and smooth; and when Nelson took it from Harvey's hand to examine it, the safety, trigger, and power and focusing adjustments moved more smoothly and precisely than even a brand new one out of stores.
Nelson's appreciation for the condition of the pistol must have showed on his face, for Harvey smirked and said, "I am an engineer, you know. Now, what do I have to shoot to get outta here?"
The MACO gathered himself and indicated the far wall of the range. "You'll have a number of targets, both moving and stationary. Your certification will depend on both accuracy and time. Don't miss, and don't take forever. Now, lowest setting and take a position over by that railing." He moved over to the control console, waited for Fulton to get into position, and reminded the engineer, "Remember - there's no drift or lead with these. Shoot when you have a shot, and don't wait for a pattern of movement. Don't anticipate, we won't be seeing any Romulans that can run at the speed of light." Nelson reached down and punched a button on the console.
Downrange from Harvey, a humanoid silhouette opened from the wall. Harvey sighted and fired, and a "ping" sounded as the laser bolt struck the wall next to the figure's head. "Damn!" Harvey grunted, adjusted his aim, and fired again - striking the target squarely in the torso. Another target popped up along the right side of the range and began sliding towards the shooters' booths. Harvey swung the pistol over and fired, without taking the time to think about adjustments. The shot struck the moving target in its left shoulder, and a third target dropped from the ceiling to land halfway downrange. Once again, Harvey swung the pistol over and fired before his brain could analyze the target, scoring another hit. A new target appeared on the left, this time slowly retreating along the edge of the range. Harvey traced its movement, aimed, and fired... this time, missing the target high and to the right. Without a thought, Harvey adjusted and shot again knocking the head off of the silhouette. Finally a fifth target sprang up halfway downrange, dead center, and began advancing toward Harvey. "Time?" Fulton called.
Nelson pressed a button and the computer voice rang out, "15 seconds remaining." Harvey brought the pistol up into firing position and waited. "10 seconds," the computer called out and the target silhouette was now only meters from Harvey's position. What the hell are you doing, you crazy egghead? thought Nelson.
"5 seconds," the computer announced. The target came to a stop directly in front of Harvey, allowing the engineer barely enough room to hold the gun up to the figure's head and fire. Even at lowest power, the point-blank laser bolt melted the upper half of the silhouette's head.
"Got the last one real good, boss," Harvey commented as he engaged his safety and returned the weapon to its makeshift spot in his tool belt.
"Very funny," commented Nelson, "but if you try your little st-"
"What's the score, then?" Fulton interrupted.
Nelson stared daggers at the engineer, then checked the console. "71.4%, including three first-shot hits... within allotted time. Pass."
"I trust I'll see that certification in my record. Thank you, Mr. Nelson," Harvey said glibly as he turned and left the room.
I can't stand nothing dull
I got the high gloss luster
I'll massacre your ass as fast
as Bull offed Custer
I got the high gloss luster
I'll massacre your ass as fast
as Bull offed Custer
-
alexmann
- Lieutenant Commander
- Posts: 912
- Joined: Fri May 27, 2011 6:52 pm
- Location: I'm in your mind!
Re: The Earth/Romulan War EPISODE I
Lieutenant Westwood was pacing sickbay, trying to work out hove he could resolve the situation with Nelson. Eventually he gave up and went for the one option that he could think of. He hit a button on the wall panel next to him.
"Westwood to Nelson".
"What is it now Doctor?" he replied irritably.
"I just wanted to apologise for earlier. But could I just say, I had an appointment. I contacted you before I arrived and scheduled it. Oh and by the way, I didn't have my sidearm with me because I hadn't been issued with one. I was told to get one from the armoury when I arrived." Westwood explained.
"Oh damn. I must have written down your appointment in my other planner which I leave at Earth. You still haven't told me why I had to send down a dropship just for you."
"If you want to see why, report to sickbay. Westwood out"
Sickbay, 2 minutes later.
The door opened and Nelson stepped in. "Well Lieutenant, what is this magical reason why you couldn't have just used some damn shuttlepods?"
Vic opened the storeroom and pulled out a large medpack. "Mainly, because I was bringing so many of these for you. This is a brand-new type of medpack filled with new diagnostic aids, medicines and healing devices. This thing contains enough equipment to solve 90% of potential injuries. It could save up to 40% more lives. But I suppose if you don't want them I could always send them back to Earth."
He'd been annoyed at Westwood for bringing all these supplies for him. Nelson didn't know what to say. "Meet me in the Mess Hall, 1800 hours" he said, and walked out.
"Westwood to Nelson".
"What is it now Doctor?" he replied irritably.
"I just wanted to apologise for earlier. But could I just say, I had an appointment. I contacted you before I arrived and scheduled it. Oh and by the way, I didn't have my sidearm with me because I hadn't been issued with one. I was told to get one from the armoury when I arrived." Westwood explained.
"Oh damn. I must have written down your appointment in my other planner which I leave at Earth. You still haven't told me why I had to send down a dropship just for you."
"If you want to see why, report to sickbay. Westwood out"
Sickbay, 2 minutes later.
The door opened and Nelson stepped in. "Well Lieutenant, what is this magical reason why you couldn't have just used some damn shuttlepods?"
Vic opened the storeroom and pulled out a large medpack. "Mainly, because I was bringing so many of these for you. This is a brand-new type of medpack filled with new diagnostic aids, medicines and healing devices. This thing contains enough equipment to solve 90% of potential injuries. It could save up to 40% more lives. But I suppose if you don't want them I could always send them back to Earth."
He'd been annoyed at Westwood for bringing all these supplies for him. Nelson didn't know what to say. "Meet me in the Mess Hall, 1800 hours" he said, and walked out.
-
Reliant121
- 3 Star Admiral
- Posts: 12263
- Joined: Thu Jul 26, 2007 5:00 pm
Re: The Earth/Romulan War EPISODE I
T'Varaan walked into the sensor lab, a relatively small and cramped compartment where her team of science specialists were based. There were 20 of them, working in 5 man shifts with one ranking officer to 5 enlisted crewmen of various non-commissioned ranks. As she walked in Ensign Carlotti looked up and gave a smile to her.
"Commander, It's a pleasure to meet you," He said, walking over and extending his hand. He instantly moved to withdraw it, not wishing to offend her. T'Varaan slipped her delicate right hand into the extended one before it could be taken back.
"And you, Ensign. What is the status of sensors?" She said, glancing around the rooms multiple displays.
"All is well, mam. Each of the sensor arrays is operating with only a .5% data degradation from receiver to display. Long range and short range sensors are all calibrated within their normal operational parameters and the sensor tests that we have taken have all shown up 100% accuracy."
"Engisn, I would like .2% if possible. Also, I have given word that I would send science department men to assist Engineer Fulton with some critical...projects of his," Carlotti would have sworn to have seen the slightest of smiles at this. "I would appreciate it if you could select 10 of the department to assist him."
"Mam, is there any need to improve by that little bit?"
"When facing an enemy such as the Romulans, who appear to use some form of stealth technology, the sensors must operate as efficiently as possible. .2% degradation, no more."
With that, she turned and left.
"Commander, It's a pleasure to meet you," He said, walking over and extending his hand. He instantly moved to withdraw it, not wishing to offend her. T'Varaan slipped her delicate right hand into the extended one before it could be taken back.
"And you, Ensign. What is the status of sensors?" She said, glancing around the rooms multiple displays.
"All is well, mam. Each of the sensor arrays is operating with only a .5% data degradation from receiver to display. Long range and short range sensors are all calibrated within their normal operational parameters and the sensor tests that we have taken have all shown up 100% accuracy."
"Engisn, I would like .2% if possible. Also, I have given word that I would send science department men to assist Engineer Fulton with some critical...projects of his," Carlotti would have sworn to have seen the slightest of smiles at this. "I would appreciate it if you could select 10 of the department to assist him."
"Mam, is there any need to improve by that little bit?"
"When facing an enemy such as the Romulans, who appear to use some form of stealth technology, the sensors must operate as efficiently as possible. .2% degradation, no more."
With that, she turned and left.
Re: The Earth/Romulan War EPISODE I
USS Aegis – Torpedo Room Three
Lt. Sinclair looked at the torpedo system with something close to pure hatred in his eyes. He had just completed his very first level five diagnostic on his tactical systems, and what he found was beyond belief. While the internal computer scans showed each system operating within its specifications, what he found when his team actually completed that most detailed of diagnostic checks was completely nerve wracking. He understood that the Aegis was rushed into service to provide some much needed firepower against the Romulans, but the shortcuts taken on certain areas of the ship were beyond belief. Yes, everything would work fine in theory, but in reality the tactical system could be completely knocked offline with one precision shot the way things stood, and with the ship helpless in space, that much needed firepower would have to flee from the fight in a best case scenario, or quickly turn into a fiery plasma explosion before finally becoming a cloud of scrap metal and free floating molecular particles.
Harvey had gone ballistic when Sinclair reported in, and regardless of the fact the ship raced at speeds never before achieved by a Earth Starship, he had started his own series of diagnostics. Fulton’s standards were apparently much higher than Sinclair’s, as while Sinclair was merely content with a system operating exactly as it was designed with the ability to survive a firefight, Fulton expected systems to perform beyond expectation. Of course, Fulton had been one of the designers of the Daedalus class, and it only stood to reason as he knew what the ship was capable of. He routinely expressed his plans for the construction and assembly teams that had that “good enough” attitude, and it upset him even more that they actually seemed to cover up the laziness. A panel in the jefferies tube missing a hinge, or some shoddy welding inside a panal, or even shorting a few rivets on some deck plating that was rarely used. Harvy had some ideas, and after hearing them, the slightly apprehensive armory officer hoped he was only venting. Sinclair wasn’t sure that you could actually beam somebody into space on a wide dispersal pattern with the transporter, and truth to tell he really didn’t want to. What he didn't know couldn't be reported to Starfleet Investigative Service.
Fulton had graciously loaned Sinclair a single engineering team, insisting it was all he could spare. After seeing Fulton put the rest of his people to work, he could believe it. Several MACOs quickly approached Sinclair and offered him a hand which he accepted with surprised gratitude, although he quickly began to suspect an ulterior motive as the rest of the MACOs somehow managed to don engineering coveralls, and managed to look confused and hurriedly busy at the same time.
First, Brian spent a double shift with the primary laser core. The core itself was an amazing piece of machinery. It drew power from both the impulse and warp engines to into its primary capacitor for combat use. It also had a secondary capacitor which functioned more as a stored battery, powered by the same sources. The problem is, should the warp and impulse engines get knocked out, the ship would be defenseless. Sinclair enacted a simple fix. He connected the secondary capacitor into the auxiliary power systems, so that both secondary and emergency power could be transferred to lasers should it be needed.
After a mere three hours sleep, he started on the new shield systems. The shields were projected away from the hull by a series of emitters located on the outer hull. The shields repelled most forms of energy, but could be brought down if the emitters by damage, via overloading them with enough power. If that happened, the accompanying surge could take out the entire shield grid. Fulton himself came down when he heard about it and started cursing in at least three different languages that Sinclair had never even heard of. They installed primary and secondary surge protectors into each and every shield emitter. While it wouldn't increase shield power, it ensured if one emitter was destroyed, the feedback wouldn't take out the entire grid. They could restore shield power by extending the field from the closest two surviving emitters, or if nothing else turn the ship to present a good shield. Harvey was called away after only eight hours for some power relay issue, and the work went a lot slower. After burning his hand on an active power line, the new doctor sent him off to bed after patching him up, with an order relieving him of duty until he slept at least six hours. So, after some badly needed rest, he finished the rest of the emitters, and then went to what looked to be the simplest job, the torpedo tubes.
The problem he faced was pretty simple, yet vexing as anything else he'd dealt with over these past several days. Aegis carried a limited number of the new photonic torpedoes. They had a secondary supply of spatial torpedoes. These nuclear weapons were highly effective against unshielded ships or ground based facilities, but the shape of the torpedo was different. The conveyer belt carried the torpedo into the firing chamber to be fired was designed to accomodate the photonic torpedo, however. The problem was, the shape of the spatial torpedo was different that the photonic torpedo, and if the ship was under attack, or even expecting turbulence, would literally roll off the conveyer belt. The frustrated Lieutenant repeated a few words Commander Fulton had taught him over the past couple of days.
“Extendable guide rails should fix your problem.” A voice said from behind.
Turning, he saw Captain Federov looking at him ruefully. “Sorry Captain,” Sinclair replied “I didn’t hear you come in.” Looking at the mechanism closer he shook his head, shrugged his shoulders and smiled ruefully. Sometimes simple answered are the best ones.
With a nod, Sinclair said “Good idea Sir, where’d you come up with it?”
With a small chuckle, Federov replied “Experience. When you’ve got a bit more of it Lieutenant, I think you’ll find it can help solve most problems, because VERY few problems are completely unique or original.”
Nodding his understanding of the lesson, Sinclair replied “What can I do for you, sir?”
“You didn’t answer the comm system. We’re rendezvousing with the fleet in about two hours. All senior staff will be on the bridge, so we can tie them into the Command Officers briefing as we put the final touches on our plan.”
With a chill, Sinclair realized in less than 48 hours, this ship would be in battle for the very first time.
Lt. Sinclair looked at the torpedo system with something close to pure hatred in his eyes. He had just completed his very first level five diagnostic on his tactical systems, and what he found was beyond belief. While the internal computer scans showed each system operating within its specifications, what he found when his team actually completed that most detailed of diagnostic checks was completely nerve wracking. He understood that the Aegis was rushed into service to provide some much needed firepower against the Romulans, but the shortcuts taken on certain areas of the ship were beyond belief. Yes, everything would work fine in theory, but in reality the tactical system could be completely knocked offline with one precision shot the way things stood, and with the ship helpless in space, that much needed firepower would have to flee from the fight in a best case scenario, or quickly turn into a fiery plasma explosion before finally becoming a cloud of scrap metal and free floating molecular particles.
Harvey had gone ballistic when Sinclair reported in, and regardless of the fact the ship raced at speeds never before achieved by a Earth Starship, he had started his own series of diagnostics. Fulton’s standards were apparently much higher than Sinclair’s, as while Sinclair was merely content with a system operating exactly as it was designed with the ability to survive a firefight, Fulton expected systems to perform beyond expectation. Of course, Fulton had been one of the designers of the Daedalus class, and it only stood to reason as he knew what the ship was capable of. He routinely expressed his plans for the construction and assembly teams that had that “good enough” attitude, and it upset him even more that they actually seemed to cover up the laziness. A panel in the jefferies tube missing a hinge, or some shoddy welding inside a panal, or even shorting a few rivets on some deck plating that was rarely used. Harvy had some ideas, and after hearing them, the slightly apprehensive armory officer hoped he was only venting. Sinclair wasn’t sure that you could actually beam somebody into space on a wide dispersal pattern with the transporter, and truth to tell he really didn’t want to. What he didn't know couldn't be reported to Starfleet Investigative Service.
Fulton had graciously loaned Sinclair a single engineering team, insisting it was all he could spare. After seeing Fulton put the rest of his people to work, he could believe it. Several MACOs quickly approached Sinclair and offered him a hand which he accepted with surprised gratitude, although he quickly began to suspect an ulterior motive as the rest of the MACOs somehow managed to don engineering coveralls, and managed to look confused and hurriedly busy at the same time.
First, Brian spent a double shift with the primary laser core. The core itself was an amazing piece of machinery. It drew power from both the impulse and warp engines to into its primary capacitor for combat use. It also had a secondary capacitor which functioned more as a stored battery, powered by the same sources. The problem is, should the warp and impulse engines get knocked out, the ship would be defenseless. Sinclair enacted a simple fix. He connected the secondary capacitor into the auxiliary power systems, so that both secondary and emergency power could be transferred to lasers should it be needed.
After a mere three hours sleep, he started on the new shield systems. The shields were projected away from the hull by a series of emitters located on the outer hull. The shields repelled most forms of energy, but could be brought down if the emitters by damage, via overloading them with enough power. If that happened, the accompanying surge could take out the entire shield grid. Fulton himself came down when he heard about it and started cursing in at least three different languages that Sinclair had never even heard of. They installed primary and secondary surge protectors into each and every shield emitter. While it wouldn't increase shield power, it ensured if one emitter was destroyed, the feedback wouldn't take out the entire grid. They could restore shield power by extending the field from the closest two surviving emitters, or if nothing else turn the ship to present a good shield. Harvey was called away after only eight hours for some power relay issue, and the work went a lot slower. After burning his hand on an active power line, the new doctor sent him off to bed after patching him up, with an order relieving him of duty until he slept at least six hours. So, after some badly needed rest, he finished the rest of the emitters, and then went to what looked to be the simplest job, the torpedo tubes.
The problem he faced was pretty simple, yet vexing as anything else he'd dealt with over these past several days. Aegis carried a limited number of the new photonic torpedoes. They had a secondary supply of spatial torpedoes. These nuclear weapons were highly effective against unshielded ships or ground based facilities, but the shape of the torpedo was different. The conveyer belt carried the torpedo into the firing chamber to be fired was designed to accomodate the photonic torpedo, however. The problem was, the shape of the spatial torpedo was different that the photonic torpedo, and if the ship was under attack, or even expecting turbulence, would literally roll off the conveyer belt. The frustrated Lieutenant repeated a few words Commander Fulton had taught him over the past couple of days.
“Extendable guide rails should fix your problem.” A voice said from behind.
Turning, he saw Captain Federov looking at him ruefully. “Sorry Captain,” Sinclair replied “I didn’t hear you come in.” Looking at the mechanism closer he shook his head, shrugged his shoulders and smiled ruefully. Sometimes simple answered are the best ones.
With a nod, Sinclair said “Good idea Sir, where’d you come up with it?”
With a small chuckle, Federov replied “Experience. When you’ve got a bit more of it Lieutenant, I think you’ll find it can help solve most problems, because VERY few problems are completely unique or original.”
Nodding his understanding of the lesson, Sinclair replied “What can I do for you, sir?”
“You didn’t answer the comm system. We’re rendezvousing with the fleet in about two hours. All senior staff will be on the bridge, so we can tie them into the Command Officers briefing as we put the final touches on our plan.”
With a chill, Sinclair realized in less than 48 hours, this ship would be in battle for the very first time.
They say that in the Army,
the women are mighty fine.
They look like Phyllis Diller,
and walk like Frankenstein.
the women are mighty fine.
They look like Phyllis Diller,
and walk like Frankenstein.
-
alexmann
- Lieutenant Commander
- Posts: 912
- Joined: Fri May 27, 2011 6:52 pm
- Location: I'm in your mind!
Re: The Earth/Romulan War EPISODE I
Corporal Conway was exploring the ship when he entered the main armoury. The first thing he noticed was that it was very busy. The second thing he noticed was that Lieutenant Sinclair needed more men. He drew his communicator "All MACO's on deck four, report to the Armoury as soon as possible". Within a minute 3 other MACO's had entered.
"We want to get good relations with these people, we are going to be working with them a lot so what I think we should do is offer them a hand. Follow me." He approached Sinclair and said "You seem kind of busy, Do you need a hand with anything?".
"Actually, yes. We have to perform complete diagnostics on all systems, Work out how to get these damned torpedos to load without rolling off, Fix these shortcuts, Protect the shield grid from overload and ensure that the lasers will work without main power and all before the staff Briefing tommorow. You and Your MACO's, Put overall's on and go work through this list of shortcuts, repairing as many as possible." He handed him a PADD. "If you don't know what to do ask someone. Thanks, but I need to get working." Replied Sinclair.
"You heard the man, lets get too it!" ordered Conway.
For the next few hours the MACO's were hard at work, reattaching deck panels, rehinging bulkheads, shifting things from place to place, coating the transporters with protective material and various other jobs.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sickbay
A steady trickle of patients were coming in with injuries ranging from dislocated fingers to burns. One such patient was Lieutenant Sinclair.
"I've treated your burns but you seem exhausted. When was the last time you slept?" asked the doctor.
"This morning." Sinclair replied irritably.
"And how long for?"
"I don't know! About three hours. Now can I get back to my job please?" He snapped.
"You need rest."
"I will get some rest when this ship is up to scratch and battle-worthy. We have a lot to get done and not much time to do it."
"And it will have to get done without you. Your relieved of duty until you have slept for at least six hours." ordered Westwood.
"Fine." Sinclair replied as he left sickbay.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Armoury
"All MACO's report to the MACO briefing room." Came the voice over Conway's combadge.
Conway tapped it. "Conway to Sinclair. We have to go. We did the top 62 jobs and there is now only 3 more. We'll leave the PADD and the overalls in the store room."
"Alright team, lets roll out. Put your overalls in the store room them go to the briefing room. I'll meet you there."
Briefing Room
Captain Nelson stood at the front and addressed the MACO's. "Alright, were going to assign you fireteams and then we will organise you into squads. Corporal Conway, You will be assigned to squad 1. Your squad CO will be Sergeant Bishop. You will command fireteam 2." This continued until all assignments had been given out.
"Sergeants are to carry out an inspection, practise drill and then move onto the firing range. Dismissed."
All MACO's stood up and moved next door into the main MACO training hall.
"Squad 1 over here." Sergeant Bishop yelled. "Corporal Conway, carry out a uniform and presentation inspection. I will do a weapons inspection. Conway, you can take drill."
"Squad, Marker. Squad, Three Ranks, On Parade." Shouted Conway. "Squad, Open Order, March. Squad, stand at ease."
Conway walked through the lines checking uniform, hair, nails and personal grooming. Unsurprisingly as Squad 1, they all passed.
"Corporal Conway, How many have passed?" Bishop asked.
"All of them." Came the reply.
"Good. Squad, Squad-shun. Squad, Right Dress. Eyes, Front."
So far everything was going perfectly.
For the 20 mins that they were on parade, only one mistake was made, a simple matter of stepping forward with the wrong foot.
Sergeant Bishop marched over. "Dismiss the parade."
"Squad, to your duties, fall out."
"Squad, follow me to the firing range."
They walked out quickly and moved over to the firing range. As the first MACO's lined up to shoot, Captain Nelson walked in.
"Corporal Conway. You are to practise long distance shooting and then come over and help your fireteam practise."
"Yes sir."
Captain Nelson walked away and Dan Conway lifted his rifle to fire at the long range target. Zap! Zap! Two bullseyes. The target started to move, accelerating after each hit. Zap! Zap! Zap! Three more. Zap! Zap! Zap! Another three. Hits kept coming.
"Target shooting over. Hits: 100%. Range: 200m Maximum distance from center of target: 2cm."
"We want to get good relations with these people, we are going to be working with them a lot so what I think we should do is offer them a hand. Follow me." He approached Sinclair and said "You seem kind of busy, Do you need a hand with anything?".
"Actually, yes. We have to perform complete diagnostics on all systems, Work out how to get these damned torpedos to load without rolling off, Fix these shortcuts, Protect the shield grid from overload and ensure that the lasers will work without main power and all before the staff Briefing tommorow. You and Your MACO's, Put overall's on and go work through this list of shortcuts, repairing as many as possible." He handed him a PADD. "If you don't know what to do ask someone. Thanks, but I need to get working." Replied Sinclair.
"You heard the man, lets get too it!" ordered Conway.
For the next few hours the MACO's were hard at work, reattaching deck panels, rehinging bulkheads, shifting things from place to place, coating the transporters with protective material and various other jobs.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sickbay
A steady trickle of patients were coming in with injuries ranging from dislocated fingers to burns. One such patient was Lieutenant Sinclair.
"I've treated your burns but you seem exhausted. When was the last time you slept?" asked the doctor.
"This morning." Sinclair replied irritably.
"And how long for?"
"I don't know! About three hours. Now can I get back to my job please?" He snapped.
"You need rest."
"I will get some rest when this ship is up to scratch and battle-worthy. We have a lot to get done and not much time to do it."
"And it will have to get done without you. Your relieved of duty until you have slept for at least six hours." ordered Westwood.
"Fine." Sinclair replied as he left sickbay.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Armoury
"All MACO's report to the MACO briefing room." Came the voice over Conway's combadge.
Conway tapped it. "Conway to Sinclair. We have to go. We did the top 62 jobs and there is now only 3 more. We'll leave the PADD and the overalls in the store room."
"Alright team, lets roll out. Put your overalls in the store room them go to the briefing room. I'll meet you there."
Briefing Room
Captain Nelson stood at the front and addressed the MACO's. "Alright, were going to assign you fireteams and then we will organise you into squads. Corporal Conway, You will be assigned to squad 1. Your squad CO will be Sergeant Bishop. You will command fireteam 2." This continued until all assignments had been given out.
"Sergeants are to carry out an inspection, practise drill and then move onto the firing range. Dismissed."
All MACO's stood up and moved next door into the main MACO training hall.
"Squad 1 over here." Sergeant Bishop yelled. "Corporal Conway, carry out a uniform and presentation inspection. I will do a weapons inspection. Conway, you can take drill."
"Squad, Marker. Squad, Three Ranks, On Parade." Shouted Conway. "Squad, Open Order, March. Squad, stand at ease."
Conway walked through the lines checking uniform, hair, nails and personal grooming. Unsurprisingly as Squad 1, they all passed.
"Corporal Conway, How many have passed?" Bishop asked.
"All of them." Came the reply.
"Good. Squad, Squad-shun. Squad, Right Dress. Eyes, Front."
So far everything was going perfectly.
For the 20 mins that they were on parade, only one mistake was made, a simple matter of stepping forward with the wrong foot.
Sergeant Bishop marched over. "Dismiss the parade."
"Squad, to your duties, fall out."
"Squad, follow me to the firing range."
They walked out quickly and moved over to the firing range. As the first MACO's lined up to shoot, Captain Nelson walked in.
"Corporal Conway. You are to practise long distance shooting and then come over and help your fireteam practise."
"Yes sir."
Captain Nelson walked away and Dan Conway lifted his rifle to fire at the long range target. Zap! Zap! Two bullseyes. The target started to move, accelerating after each hit. Zap! Zap! Zap! Three more. Zap! Zap! Zap! Another three. Hits kept coming.
"Target shooting over. Hits: 100%. Range: 200m Maximum distance from center of target: 2cm."
Last edited by alexmann on Sat Feb 18, 2012 11:01 am, edited 3 times in total.
-
Reliant121
- 3 Star Admiral
- Posts: 12263
- Joined: Thu Jul 26, 2007 5:00 pm
Re: The Earth/Romulan War EPISODE I
The vast, empty corridors of the lower engineering decks were a comfortably quiet place for T'Varaan. She had taken to assisting the engineering department with a number of Fulton's "improvements" seeing as the engineer, who spent most of his time being at best exasperated, was positively fuming at the numerous design corrections that the accountants in charge of the Daedalus project had enacted after the engineering consultants had finished the ideal image. Fulton was understandably concerned that the ship would falter much quicker under fire than he had specified in the original design; Since the Daedalus class was the premier warship of Starfleet, There was plenty of reason to be annoyed.
The Aegis was one of the first multi-section warships in Starfleet command, having a separate engineering section to the rest of the ship. She was considerably larger than her NX class forbearer which gave her a much longer operational deployment time and a much needed boost to fire-power. Effectively, the Daedalus class ships had become the battlecruiser to the NX's heavy cruiser. Until the advent of the Aegis with all her various technological advancements, the Romulan Star Empire had drove deeper and deeper into Federation territory. Not so much as a view screen image was ever seen of them; Only rumours of their Vulcan heritage existed. She of course knew who they were; They "flew under the Raptor's wings" so the childhood legends on Vulcan told and were the forsaken brethren that had abandoned Surak in the "Time of Awakening". T'Varaan knew that every teaching of Vulcan philosophy would make her the diametric opposite of a modern day Romulan, assuming they still clung to the violence that made them so abhorrent; Yet, she was curious of what they had achieved. What did they look like? What did they speak? One would assume it was still the ancient Vulcan dialect Rihannsu but how would she know? More importantly than ever, would she resent them if she could ever put a face to the name "Romulan"?
"Commander T'Varaan, captain Federov has requested all senior staff to report for briefing," A comm. panel lit up, penetrating the eerie silence upon the lower deck. T'Varaan pressed a single response button, an audio "ping" that told the comm. officer she had understood.
Leaving her musings behind along with the newly replaced plasma conduit, T'Varaan walked toward the nearest lift, mind more clouded in thought than ever before.
The Aegis was one of the first multi-section warships in Starfleet command, having a separate engineering section to the rest of the ship. She was considerably larger than her NX class forbearer which gave her a much longer operational deployment time and a much needed boost to fire-power. Effectively, the Daedalus class ships had become the battlecruiser to the NX's heavy cruiser. Until the advent of the Aegis with all her various technological advancements, the Romulan Star Empire had drove deeper and deeper into Federation territory. Not so much as a view screen image was ever seen of them; Only rumours of their Vulcan heritage existed. She of course knew who they were; They "flew under the Raptor's wings" so the childhood legends on Vulcan told and were the forsaken brethren that had abandoned Surak in the "Time of Awakening". T'Varaan knew that every teaching of Vulcan philosophy would make her the diametric opposite of a modern day Romulan, assuming they still clung to the violence that made them so abhorrent; Yet, she was curious of what they had achieved. What did they look like? What did they speak? One would assume it was still the ancient Vulcan dialect Rihannsu but how would she know? More importantly than ever, would she resent them if she could ever put a face to the name "Romulan"?
"Commander T'Varaan, captain Federov has requested all senior staff to report for briefing," A comm. panel lit up, penetrating the eerie silence upon the lower deck. T'Varaan pressed a single response button, an audio "ping" that told the comm. officer she had understood.
Leaving her musings behind along with the newly replaced plasma conduit, T'Varaan walked toward the nearest lift, mind more clouded in thought than ever before.
-
alexmann
- Lieutenant Commander
- Posts: 912
- Joined: Fri May 27, 2011 6:52 pm
- Location: I'm in your mind!
Re: The Earth/Romulan War EPISODE I
Sickbay, 1100
"Chief Medical Officers Log, 8th May 2158. As we get nearer and nearer to combat, the trickle of patients has became a steady stream. Engineering has been getting increasingly busy, resulting in a large number of minor injuries. With my medical staff, I have been managing well. I can only hope that we cope as well when the fighting starts. I have started to train volunteers in case my team are not enough. I will be training nearly a third of the crew, and we only have another 36 hours. End log."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"MACO NCO's, Report to the MACO Briefing Room."
Conway looked over at Darwin.
"I'm sorry, I need to go. Have the computer record your scores for me and I will contact you later." He walked out and through to the briefing room.
After a couple of minutes they were all there.
"As I am sure you are aware, this ship will be entering combat in approximately 36 hours. Our duty will be to protect Aegis from being boarded and to board enemy vessels. Our mission will be to gather intelligence on Romulan capabilities, numbers and positions. We will only have our four ships to depend on. There will be no backup apart from MACOs on the other ships. We will be fighting against an enemy with unknown strength. When we rendezvous with the Neptune, Ajax and Burke we will begin exercises with their MACOs. Until then, I want you and your teams to assist the engineering staff with whatever they need. We're going to need those systems. Tell all those who volunteered for training as field medics to report to sickbay at 0900 tomorrow. I want all powerpacks charged and all personnel to carry 2 spares. Any questions?" Asked Nelson.
Conway put up his hand.
"I'm going to need exemption from the exercises. We won't have enough time to train all of our crewmembers in the use of laser weapons otherwise."
"Granted. Anyone else?" No-one put their hand up. "Dismissed."
"Chief Medical Officers Log, 8th May 2158. As we get nearer and nearer to combat, the trickle of patients has became a steady stream. Engineering has been getting increasingly busy, resulting in a large number of minor injuries. With my medical staff, I have been managing well. I can only hope that we cope as well when the fighting starts. I have started to train volunteers in case my team are not enough. I will be training nearly a third of the crew, and we only have another 36 hours. End log."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"MACO NCO's, Report to the MACO Briefing Room."
Conway looked over at Darwin.
"I'm sorry, I need to go. Have the computer record your scores for me and I will contact you later." He walked out and through to the briefing room.
After a couple of minutes they were all there.
"As I am sure you are aware, this ship will be entering combat in approximately 36 hours. Our duty will be to protect Aegis from being boarded and to board enemy vessels. Our mission will be to gather intelligence on Romulan capabilities, numbers and positions. We will only have our four ships to depend on. There will be no backup apart from MACOs on the other ships. We will be fighting against an enemy with unknown strength. When we rendezvous with the Neptune, Ajax and Burke we will begin exercises with their MACOs. Until then, I want you and your teams to assist the engineering staff with whatever they need. We're going to need those systems. Tell all those who volunteered for training as field medics to report to sickbay at 0900 tomorrow. I want all powerpacks charged and all personnel to carry 2 spares. Any questions?" Asked Nelson.
Conway put up his hand.
"I'm going to need exemption from the exercises. We won't have enough time to train all of our crewmembers in the use of laser weapons otherwise."
"Granted. Anyone else?" No-one put their hand up. "Dismissed."
Re: The Earth/Romulan War EPISODE I
As the MACO stepped out of the firing range, Darwin started up the program. Target drones moved through the air. Darwin began firing off his pistol, trying to hit even one of them.
After two minutes, the drones came to a rest on the floor. Darwin looked at the computer readout. Zero percent. He hadn't even hit them once.
Darwin huffed and recorded his score. He turned to leave, but paused at the door.
No one was scheduled to use the room for another hour, and he had two before reporting to Engineering.
Darwin picked up the pistol and started the program again, determined to at least hit something.
_____________________________________________________________________________
Corina looked at the MACO's swollen fingers, then at his swollen lip, and then at the scanner displaying his bruised ribs. Glancing over at the security crewman on the next bed, whom was in no worse shape, she sighed a bit.
"So... it wasn't a fight. This was all a training exercise? Approved by your CO?"
"No ma'am, we agreed to this ourselves." the MACO replied.
Corina gave him a look, the kind of look a mother gives her son who just told a ridiculous story. The MACO cleared his throat.
"The Petty Officer and myself wished to test our abilities in real close combat, in case the ship is boarded. The exercises we do in training are good, but they don't prepare us in the way real fighting does."
Bandaging the MACO's hand, Corina tried her best not to lecture.
"Those exercises train you to keep alive. All this did was waste medical supplies unnecessarily. Now, you are going to report to Nelson and tell him why you have more bruises than he does. And I'm sure he will gladly lecture you on the differences between training and 'real' fighting."
Dismissing the MACO, Corina brought her attention to the mildly bruised Petty Officer.
"I just want to know one thing from you. Did you at least win?" she said with a slight smile.
_____________________________________________________________________________
The drones came to rest on the floor for the tenth time. Darwin wiped sweat from his forehead and checked his score.
"Twelve percent... well I'm getting better, a little. That will have to do."
Saving his last attempt, Darwin headed off to the showers so he wasn't a mess for his shift.
After two minutes, the drones came to a rest on the floor. Darwin looked at the computer readout. Zero percent. He hadn't even hit them once.
Darwin huffed and recorded his score. He turned to leave, but paused at the door.
No one was scheduled to use the room for another hour, and he had two before reporting to Engineering.
Darwin picked up the pistol and started the program again, determined to at least hit something.
_____________________________________________________________________________
Corina looked at the MACO's swollen fingers, then at his swollen lip, and then at the scanner displaying his bruised ribs. Glancing over at the security crewman on the next bed, whom was in no worse shape, she sighed a bit.
"So... it wasn't a fight. This was all a training exercise? Approved by your CO?"
"No ma'am, we agreed to this ourselves." the MACO replied.
Corina gave him a look, the kind of look a mother gives her son who just told a ridiculous story. The MACO cleared his throat.
"The Petty Officer and myself wished to test our abilities in real close combat, in case the ship is boarded. The exercises we do in training are good, but they don't prepare us in the way real fighting does."
Bandaging the MACO's hand, Corina tried her best not to lecture.
"Those exercises train you to keep alive. All this did was waste medical supplies unnecessarily. Now, you are going to report to Nelson and tell him why you have more bruises than he does. And I'm sure he will gladly lecture you on the differences between training and 'real' fighting."
Dismissing the MACO, Corina brought her attention to the mildly bruised Petty Officer.
"I just want to know one thing from you. Did you at least win?" she said with a slight smile.
_____________________________________________________________________________
The drones came to rest on the floor for the tenth time. Darwin wiped sweat from his forehead and checked his score.
"Twelve percent... well I'm getting better, a little. That will have to do."
Saving his last attempt, Darwin headed off to the showers so he wasn't a mess for his shift.
No trees were killed in transmission of this message. However, some electrons were mildly inconvenienced.