NRPG: Compile Index: Stardate: 2408.02.19 (Starbase Geneva -Deck 50-ATac Ensign (jg) Ben Soma- 1515) Stardate: 2408.02.22 (USS Mithrandir Deck 2, Mess Hall OPS Ensign Cattia Spero 1012) (USS Mithrandir - Deck 5, Operations - OO Petty Officer Markra - 1013) (USS Mithrandir Deck 5, Operations A-OPS Ensign (jg) Jeffries 1020) (USS Mithrandir Deck 5, Operations OPS Ensign Cattia Spero 1021) (USS Mithrandir Deck 06, Lanista’s Quarters ACEO Lanista 1402) (USS Mithrandir Ready Rooom ACEO Lanista 14:11) (USS Mithrandir - Ready Room - CO, Captain Archibald Stakes- 15:05) (USS Mithrandir - Ready Room - ATac Ensign (jg) Ben Soma- 15:08) (USS Mithrandir - Sickbay CMO Dr Nymes - 15:16) (USS Mithrandir - Ready Room - CMO, Ensign Lewis Nymes - 15:26) (USS Mithrandir - Ready Room - CO, Captain Archibald Stakes - 15:28) (USS Mithrandir - Ready Room CMO Dr Nymes - 15:29) (Starbase Geneva -  Promenade CMO Dr Nymes, CONN Ele Night & CSO/2O Dale Bracken -1900) Stardate: 2408.02.23 (USS Mithrandir - Holodeck - OPS Ensign Kit Spero and LMH - 0900) (USS Mithrandir - Sickbay Dr Nymes  - 0936) >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Mission: Interlude Stardate: 2408.02.19 <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< (Starbase Geneva -Deck 50-ATac Ensign (jg) Ben Soma- 1515) The search for Sanok was not going well, no one on this deck had any useful information to share. They all said the same vague thing, a Vulcan was helped out of the lift by a couple men and the Vulcan appeared to be ill.  Sanok was fine when Ben left him on Deck 25, so he came to the conclusion that Sanok must have been drugged. Where could he have been taken, what are they doing to him, what reason did they have for abducting Sanok? These were a few of the questions Ben wanted answers for and he wanted them soon. The other teams were having no better luck with the search, it seemed that they had just disappeared of the station. Ben decided to check in with OPS to see if there had been any ships departing the area around the time of Sanok's disappearance. The officer on duty informed him that no ships had departed the area in the past few hours which meant that Sanok was still on the station. If he was still on board Geneva he could be found. Ben referred to his tricorder for the information that the PADD contained, there were no Vulcan bio signs on this deck, but Sanok had to be on this deck. Why would his captures take him off at this deck, proceed to another lift and move no another deck, it would arouse suspicion and questions from others. He was still on this deck, he had to be. Then it struck him like a blow to the back of his head, there was a dampening field in operation. It was a low power device, just enough to hide a few bio signs but not enough to raise the stations alarms. It was probably independently powered so it would avoid being detected on random scans of stations power. Ben indicated for his team to begin a door to door search, if no one answered the door he would get clearance to over ride the locking mechanism and enter the room. Time passed and door after door was opened by the occupants and questions were asked and visual surveys of the rooms were allowed. Everyone promised to keep an eye out for the lost Security Officer. Just when Ben thought they were out of luck no of the crewman motioned for Ben to join him at a door. "Sir," The crewman said."I have rung the door bell a number of times and received no response, either it is silenced from the inside or we found the room we are looking for." "Okay," Ben said, "Take up positions on either side of the door and stay low. Phasers on heavy stun, if Sanok is in there I want you to take down his captors as quickly as possible." Ben stepped back as his people took up their positions around the door. When everyone signaled they were ready he tapped his commbadge. "Ensign Soma to OPS, I need an over ride on door 50-603-1A." =/\= Proceed Ensign, the door is now unlocked.=/\= Came the response. Ben nodded to the crewman nearest the release and drew his phaser. The door opened and he was shocked at what he saw. Sanok was unconscious on the floor, apparently the victim of a bad beating. Someone inside yelled that they were found and phaser fire was heard from within. A few stray shots to keep them out. There were at least three men inside judging from the fire they were laying down. He motioned for his men to lay down their own suppression fire as he tried to reach Sanok. Bolts of phaser fire passed over his head and struck the bulkheads and walls, he heard a groan behind him signaling that someone had been hit, a quick glance back and he saw two of his men in heaps at the entrance. Sanok was on the opposite end of the room and Ben was hardly halfway across when another sound from behind him signaled another fallen man. A glance further into the room revealed that at least no of the perpetrators was also down. The phaser fire was still dancing around him as the team exchanged fire with the occupants of the room. A cloud of sparks was stirred up in front of him, a near miss and judging by the charring on the floor that phaser was not set to stun. Ben fired at a shape in the back of an adjoining room and heard something hit the floor, another one down. The remaining security entered the room and took up positions inside still exchanging phaser fire. Ben had reached Sanok and was trying to wake him when he was struck from behind. He was slightly dazed which meant he had not been hit by a phaser but by some other weapon. He rolled over and looked up, standing above him was a person, human for the most part holding a long rod. Ben reached for his phaser but it had fallen out of its holder as he rolled away from his assailant. The phaser fire had died down and he motioned for the others to hold position and watch for others. Then he turned his attention back to the man with the rod, which had been raised above his head for a killing strike. Ben waited for him to swing the rod at him before he moved, giving the attacker no hint as to his intentions and allowing the force of the swing to leave the attacker vulnerable. The attacker swung and moved out of the way, his opponent was caught of guard but could not recover it was too late. Ben rose up and struck him in the side with both of his hands, palms open allowing for maximum impact and damage. The man stumbled and swung the rod again catching Ben in the right arm, pain flared and Ben tried to ignore it. He stood up and faced the assailant as he regained his balance. He swung at Ben again but he was too slow, Ben stepped in towards him deflecting the attack and countering with an elbow to the man’s solar plexus. He heard his attacker gasp for breath and just to be on the safe side gave him a solid punch rendering him unconscious. With the fight over Ben told the team to clear the room and get medical attention for the fallen officers. He went back to Sanok who was beginning to stir, he waited for his friend to open his eyes before he said, "Hope I didn't wait too long before crashing the party." (reply Sanok/any) (posted by Milo Young) >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Mission: Interlude Stardate: 2408.02.22 <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< (USS Mithrandir Deck 2, Mess Hall OPS Ensign Cattia Spero 1012) Kit was enjoying a cup of Mei Ling's excellent hot chocolate and a kind of Terran sweetmeat called, for some reason unknown to Kit, 'Danish pastries'. She had just popped the last piece of her first pastry into her mouth and was savouring the sweet, cinnamon taste. =/\= Ensign Jefferies to Ensign Spero please respond=/\= With a sigh, because she hated her breaks to be interrupted, Kit hastily swallowed her mouthful and tapped her badge to respond. "Spero here, what's up Alex?" =/\=Kit I've got Petty Officer Markra, in operations with me I wondered if you were free for an introduction =/\= Kit looked regretfully at the second pastry sitting on her plate and the half-full mug of steaming chocolate and stifled another sigh. "Give me five to ten minutes and I'll be with you," she said. It was, after all, incumbent upon her to meet the new department member. "Spero out." She gulped the rest of her hot chocolate as fast as she could without burning her mouth and stood up. On impulse she picked up the last pastry from her plate to eat on the way as she headed out of the Mess Hall. (USS Mithrandir - Deck 5, Operations - OO Petty Officer Markra - 1013) As Markra introduced himself, he looked over the Ensign with great interest.  He appeared to be younger looking, even for a human, and both shorter and thinner than he.  He found the man's choice of hair style amusing but then, he always did wonder why humans spent so much time with their hair.  It was so much easier to wear it as was traditional for a Xindi; minimal messing and fuss that way, and to Markra, it looked far better too. "Ah Markra, if I remember correctly you've transferred from engineering to operations, a good choice if I may say so," said Jefferies, moving to shake Markra's hand enthusiastically.  There was an instant friendliness about him that Markra was drawn to, something he hadn't come across too much before. Returning the gesture, Markra shook hands vigorously.  "That's right.  I have been part of the maintenance teams on Geneva for many months and I felt a change was necessary."  Markra retrieved his hand with a smile, "Although I did not expect a transfer to a ship like this when I planned to move to Operations." "Well I'm glad to have you on the team.  Well, I say team; at the moment I've only met you and Ensign Spero but I'm sure we'll get a few newbie's assigned here soon."  The Ensign smiled again, and Markra had to wonder how long this Ensign Jefferies had been in the job himself - from the sounds of it, not too long at all. Markra thought this might be a good thing.  ~It will be easier to impress the boss if the boss hasn't seen much else to compare my work with~ It wasn't that Markra doubted his work would speak for itself, but his need for appreciation from the Humans meant that any advantage was a bonus to him. Feeling a little more at ease after the initial introductions, Markra looked around the Operations area.  ~Interesting equipment~ he thought, wondering if the devices here were standard issue or not.  As he continued his little exploration, he heard Jefferies in the background speaking over the comm. system to an Ensign Spero.  Jefferies was invited the other Ensign here to meet with Markra, and instantly he wondered what this other officer would be like. As he finished speaking with Ensign Spero, Jefferies turned to Markra and asked, "So how long have you been in Starfleet?" Unsurprised that questions would be asked about his time in service, Markra had already prepared some answers.  "I've been in Starfleet for nearly two standard earth years.  I graduated during the war and was moved out to Geneva shortly after.  I've been there ever since, working on the maintenance teams for all the ships passing through." (reply: Jefferies IYW) Picking up a small hand-held device use for calibration of some description, Markra continued, "I've seen my fair share of battle damage and am ready for something new."  He looked around, deciding that the device in his hands was a type-III plasma dissipater, "My specialist field is Electromagnetic Manipulation."  Although he was certain it wasn't necessary, he offered a 'laymans terms' description.  "Energy fields, shields, forcefields of any kind.  You name it, I love to manipulate it." Markra grinned, and hoped Jefferies wouldn't think him too much of a geek. (reply: Jefferies, Spero, any) (posted by Dave) (USS Mithrandir Deck 5, Operations A-OPS Ensign (jg) Jeffries 1020) Alex listened to what Markra had to say. ~He specializes in  field is electromagnetic manipulation, that could sure come in useful in the future~  He thought to himself, he then turned to look a Markra again "Well that will come in handy I expect when we depart on our mission, so you had a chance to look around the rest of the ship yet?" Alex asked, ~If he hasn't I might offer him a tour~ (reply Markra) (posted by Tom) (USS Mithrandir Deck 5, Operations OPS Ensign Cattia Spero 1021) As she reached Operations, Kit had just managed to finish the second pastry and quickly brushed a few crumbs from her uniform before entering the room where Alex and the new guy were. As she did so, she heard Alex ask if Markra had had a chance to look round the ship and smiled to herself. It seemed he was doing his best to make Markra feel at home. "You must be Petty Officer Markra," she said, moving forward and holding out her hand to the Xindi primate. "I'm Ensign Spero, but as long as we're not on Bridge duty, you can call me Kit. The Old Man's a bit of a stickler for regulations," she added, "Which is a good thing on the whole." She remembered how uncomfortable it had made her feel when the former FO had used her nickname on the Bridge instead of the more proper form of address. (reply Markra, Alex, any) (Posted by Liz) (USS Mithrandir Deck 06, Lanista’s Quarters ACEO Lanista 1402) Lanista had read 90.220% of the Dennison mission logs. Though there was effectively no longer a Dennison the logs of missions past could still be of some importance. Lanista had been primarily reading from the perspective of Engineering. However, with a new ship this 'Mithrandira' th there would be less catching up to do with respect to old news. The Dennison logs thus far left Lanista a bit bewildered about how things were done aboard. Lanista put her PADD/tricorder down on her bloodwine/coffee table and grimaced. Being born outside Federation space had clearly made her way of thinking different from that of her new comrades. For example, the viral issue of not-so-long-ago had been solved in a less-than-Klingon manner. It was not a solution about which to sing songs. There had been no evident fire in the eyes of those who had played a part in this. No werewolves had run amok aboard ship. No glorious combats had been fought against infected crewmen. Not one brace of dueling disruptors had been donned. Not one boarding axe had been raised in defense of the vessel. No one had even said, “It is a good day to die.”ť Even the end of the war had seemed devoid of celebration and glory. Lanista's own father and grandfather had been involved, and they had sent word to her of incredible engagements possessed of great honors and achievements. ~How is it that Humans involve themselves in warfighting without any fanfare?~ Still, it was good to have finally reached at least hints of the beginning of the Maltorian Saga in the Dennison's logs. Lanista knew how that had ended. It would be good to know that start of it. Setting aside her reading for the time being, Lanista sat in her standard duty uniform. Almost twenty-four hours had passed since that hrikha-taHqeq* Commander Olorin Okita had reprimanded Lanista for being in out of uniform. Her response to the higher-ranking Qovpatlh* at that time had been the sort of overly proud and bloodwine-clever utterance one makes after a celebration such as the Captain's yeoman's peHghep ritual. Despite the consumption of alcohol, mostly on Lanista's part, Esme's Age of Inclusion ceremony had been been a thoroughly Human affair there was song but no story, footwork butt no blows. A charming Donald and an enigmatic 'Kit' during the party, and certainly the enthusiastic young Bill afterward, had salvaged Lanista's mood that day and night. Today, Lanista was attired as she ought to be aboard a Federation ship, in a rather unimaginative and somewhat uncomfortable tunic and slacks. Klingons had a tradition of showing off their achievements, with medals and decorations on collars, sleeves, and vambraces. Vulcan fashion was at least not restrictive. But, when came the com-signal =/\=Captain Stakes to Ensign Lanista. Report to my Ready Room immediately. Stakes out.=/\=, Lanista was happy to be properly attired for what would be her long overdue reporting-for-duty with this Captain. "On my way," Lanista said, knowing the computer would relay the response without her having to activate her combadge. Lanista hated the tribble-like chirping noise Federation commbadges made when tapped. (USS Mithrandir Ready Rooom ACEO Lanista 14:11) The Captain nodded acknowledgement as Lanista entered the Ready Room. "Thank you for being so prompt, Mister Lanista. Have a seat," he said and the half-breed officer did as directed. ~Takes his time,~ she thought while the CO briefly regarded her, his expression unreadable. ~But then it is his time to take.~ When the Captain spoke again, he began with "I have received a communique from BuPers, Ensign, regarding a review of your service record…" The explained his perspective in the overly wordy Human way, then demanded rank pip. This surprised Lanista somewhat, as his lead-up had seemed at least somewhat positive. Lanista surrendered the pip then tried, not entirely successfully, to suppress a snarl as Stakes tossed the single bit of metal into a bin of scraps. It was then she noticed the malt whiskey bottle on one end of the desk. Curiosity about that, of all things, helped her keep from saying (or doing) anything rash. Before she could comment (or act), though, the ship's CO said, "I deem it appropriate, Mister Lanista, to promote you to Ensign, Senior Grade, effective immediately." He handed her a box containing a single gold pip and a package he said contained a Dress Uniform. His next directive was odd, even from a Human's mouth: "…It is my wish that you retire to your quarters, change into the dress uniform and attach the rank insignia to it. Then for a period of not less than 24 hours but no more than 25 hours you will wear the dress uniform instead of your normal uniform. This is to signify to all you have been found worthy of a promotion." He nodded as if to allow Lanista a chance to respond but then continued, "However, Ensign, before you say anything, could you perhaps explain to me why Consul Rog of the Tazarian Conglomerate found it necessary to hand me this package with strict instructions to hand it to you only?" He handed her this too a roughly wrapped parcel that smelled strongly of minn'hor musk. She tried not to smile as she noted to look of displeasure on the Captain's face. ~This could be only one thing,~ Lanista thought. "Qapla', joHwI'*!" Lanista said, responding first to her promotion. Then she unwrapped the cloth-covered packet as it rested in her lap. As a scabbard for a Daqtagh came into view, the pungent aroma of minn'hor oil was released into the room. It had been only a faint presence before this. Regarding this sheath for a true warrior's blade, Lanista was convinced of Darm's earlier claim this was the craftsmanship of Mastersmith K'ron, alright. Lanista had seen such pieces before but never held one. Lani's eyes went wide with wonder – but she was not sure if that was because of this remarkable treasure or due to the big, brass lobes it took Darm to use a Starfleet Captain as a delivery boy. Her delight at the merchandise and the circumstances of its coming into her possession made the prospect of wearing Class-A's for a day an easy burden to bear. At once both excited and confused, the Klingon/Vulcan hybrids eyed the item passed to her while she turned it about in her hands. It was, as Darm had claimed just a day or so ago, of spectacular workmanship indeed, skillfully done in the ancient style. Lanista couldn't remember her father ever having owned something like this, though Darm (unless Lani was very much mistaken) had implied QolloH, son of DI'al, did once have this object. "In all honesty, I have no idea who Consul Rog is or even where the Tazarian Conglomerate may be located," Lanista said in answer to the Captain's query. "But this, sir," Lanista said, holding up the scabbard, "is a … good faith payment from a would-be … business associate…" Her explanation would have been longer but, seeing the Captain's reaction to the musk of the leathers, she quickly rewrapped the item and set it down beside her. Leaning to one side in so doing, she noticed the whiskey again. "You know, my father kept warnog in his war room," Lanista said, nodding toward the bottle. "Do you permit drink on duty, sir, or is that for a special occasion?" (Reply CO, rfm) (Posted by FT) (USS Mithrandir - Ready Room - CO, Captain Archibald Stakes- 15:05) "Thank you, Sir." The A-TAC said and looked at his commanding officer.  "I am honoured to receive this promotion and will to my best not to disappoint you. But if I may ask a question, Captain. What actions warranted this promotion, Sir." Archibald regarded the man through slotted eyes, signalling him to continue. "Sir, I was unable to prevent the abduction of Commander West on Maltoria as well as Lieutenant Bracken. The lieutenant has since returned but West is still out there somewhere. It was my duty to protect the away team, a duty that I feel I have failed." Archibald sat back and rolled a none-existing piece of fluff with his fingers for a second. "In short, Ensign, because Starfleet deemed it appropriate. If you feel that you made mistakes, that you failed your duty because an outside interference proved to be beyond your capability to either predict or prevent its occurrence, then that is your call. It is Starfleet's duty to look at all evidence in front of them and determine if an officer's action was deemed insufficient or failing in his duty. Do you believe that if a Klingon Negh'Var decided to attack a Nova, the tactical chief would be held accountable for the fact that the Nova's beams could not penetrate the enemy's shields? Or the fact that the enemy fire would render our defenses useless? Would there be any failure to perform one's duty then? So why should there be one in your case? Could you foresee the abduction? Should you have foreseen the abduction? And had you foreseen it, would you have been able to prevent it? Starfleet believes not and therefore does not hold you responsible. Nor do they hold you responsible for any mistakes that your commanding officer's made, if there were any." Archibald shot a quick, humourless grin. "They said there weren't any, but when you reach my position, politics come into play." Archibald became serious again. "Regardless, Ensign, Starfleet does not hold you responsible, therefore it would be wrong to punish you. What I DO expect, however, is that learn from it. Learn from every experience, but ESPECIALLY the bad ones.  For the rest, you did what you had to do or could do, and that is enough for this promotion. Of course, next time I'll be expecting more of you, so don't think that the next one will be as easily got." Archibald regarded the young officer. (reply Ben, room for more) (posted by Adrie Geuken) (USS Mithrandir - Ready Room - ATac Ensign (jg) Ben Soma- 15:08) Ben listened as Captain Stakes explained that Starfleet hadn't held him responsible for the loss of the Dennison's officers, even if he held himself responsible. The situation was out of his hands and there had been nothing he could have done to prevent it without being insubordinate and risking a court martial for his actions. "Regardless, Ensign, Starfleet does not hold you responsible, therefore it would be wrong to punish you. What I DO expect, however, is that learn from it. Learn from every experience, but ESPECIALLY the bad ones.  For the rest, you did what you had to do or could do, and that is enough for this promotion. Of course, next time I'll be expecting more of you, so don't think that the next one will be as easily got." Archibald regarded the young officer. "Thank you, Sir." Ben said to Stakes." I will keep that advice in mind. I shall endeavour to my duty to the best of my ability Captain, and serve this ship and crew as I had aboard the Dennison." Ben regarded his CO for a moment and added, "Captain, as you said the circumstances were out of my control and I was unable to anything about them. It was just the way that I was raised, the discipline and the immersion into Asian martial arts that lead me to ask the question, Sir." Ben waited to see if there was anything else the Captain wished to say to him or if he would be dismissed to his quarters to change into his new dress uniform and new pip. His father and mother would be quite proud of him for the promotion but his mother would be quite annoyed as to his asking about it. His father would probably understand, he always understood. The ancient disciplines would have more strict on Ben than Starfleet was, having failed in those times would have resulted in disgrace and dishonour requiring the ending of his life by his own hand. (reply Stakes) (posted by Milo Young) (USS Mithrandir - Sickbay CMO Dr Nymes - 15:16) =/\=Captain Stakes to Ensign Nymes. Report to my Ready Room immediately. Stakes out.=/\= Nymes looked up from the records he was finalising. He had overviewed the medicals of approximately 50 of the crewmen, with the remainder set to arrive with the officers  in the morning of the twenty-third. As the commcall came through, Nymes collected his PADD containing all the pertinent data regarding the ships complement and the requirement for all the officers to have another medical before the Mithrandir went under way. As was his custom, the trill took a medical kit with him as he left his sickbay. (USS Mithrandir - Ready Room - CMO, Ensign Lewis Nymes - 15:26) The CO nodded at the new arrival, Nymes walking respectfully into the room, standing behind the chair. "Thank you for being so prompt, Mister ... Doctor. Have a seat." Nymes gracefully took the proffered chair, aware the last tete-a-tete had been soured by both of the men’s stoicism. “Is there anything i can do for you, sir?” "I have been informed by Starfleet Medical that they have made some modifications to the LMH program for it to be better capable to assist with case diagnostics and have given the LMH an increased medical database. They felt it appropriate for a vessel as small as ours since the limited crew will mean a limitation in our diagnostic capabilities, especially considering the types of missions we would be performing. The modifications will be downloaded straight from Earth and should be completed by no later than tomorrow 10 o'clock. Until then, please do not activate the program as that may interfere with the downloading." “Understood, Captain. I have a list of personnel that are required to submit to medicals before we get underway, as well as a memo that was forwarded to all the command staff yesterday for consideration regarding medical staffing.” Archibald nodded and continued. "Furthermore I have received a communiqué from BuPers, Ensign, regarding a review of  your service record. There were some actions that I felt should be brought forward to their attention regarding your service on the erstwhile USS Dennison and your actions whilst on board." ~Let’s see: promoted ACMO Dennison under Admiral Gr’iann. Promoted CMO and Ensign SG when the admiral decided to leave for 52nd fleet commitments; Promoted Lt.jg and 2O Dennison before almost immediate demotion to Ensign sg, due to “Actions unfitting of a Starfleet Command officer” a.k.a “not wanting to risk 1400 lives over a hawkish response to a fully solvable science puzzle which did not mark a military response.” What could they have seen in my record now? Probably going to get hit with a fraternisation charge with a superior officer...~ "They have confirmed that they share my views and have allowed me to take all the required actions that I deem appropriate in response to your actions. Your rank pip please, Ensign." Nymes smirked at the inherent humour at this. ~If this keeps up, I’ll be a cadet again soon...~ The CO held out his hand to receive the single filled pip. Once he held it in his hand, he regarded it for a second then tossed it into the small waste basket next to his desk. "I deem it appropriate, Mister Nymes, to promote you to Lieutenant junior grade effective immediately." Nymes swallowed, before giving his tanks to the Captain, and accepting the rank pips. "Congratulations, Lieutenant junior grade Nymes." he said as he handed him the package on the desk. "In this package you will find a white dress uniform in your size, according to your records. It is my wish that you retire to your quarters, change into the dress uniform and attach the rank insignia to it. Then for a period of not less than 24 hours but no more than 25 hours you will wear the dress uniform instead of your normal uniform. This is to signify to all you have been found worthy of a promotion." “Thank you once again, sir.” Nymes said, taking the package, before taking the two PADDs and placing them on the desk. “Here is the list of personnel who have been cleared to board the Mithrandir; 53 personnel have been seen, of which one will require a further check before we get under way. As of this time, no officers, bar myself, have been cleared for duty on the Mithrandir for this tour of duty. I will arrange appointments with operations starting tomorrow at 0800, but I would appreciate a moment of your time now, sir, if I may.” (reply Stakes) “I would be negligent if I neglected to follow up on your care after your injuries. Despite your immediate scans coming back satisfactorily, I would like to run one more set of scans.” (reply Stakes) (posted by GC) (USS Mithrandir - Ready Room - CO, Captain Archibald Stakes - 15:28) After thanking him again, the CMO placed two PADDS on the desk. “Here is the list of personnel who have been cleared to board the Mithrandir; 53 personnel have been seen, of which one will require a further check before we get under way. As of this time, no officers, bar myself, have been cleared for duty on the Mithrandir for this tour of duty. I will arrange appointments with operations starting tomorrow at 0800, but I would appreciate a moment of your time now, sir, if I may.” Archibald regarded the officer for a second. "What's on your mind, Lieutenant?  Unless it is about your recommendations. They have been signed and logged. Hmm, it might be though that they were ended up in your quarters on the base. But if there is anything else?" “I would be negligent if I neglected to follow up on your care after your injuries. Despite your immediate scans coming back satisfactorily, I would like to run one more set of scans.” Archibald nearly sighed. "You can overdo it, Doctor. But it is your prerogative to request another examination. As luck has it, I am available if it doesn't take more than an hour. Otherwise you will seriously upset a Starfleet Admiral. And that I would advise you not to do. Not to this one." (reply Lewis) (posted by Adrie Geuken) (USS Mithrandir - Ready Room CMO Dr Nymes - 15:29) "You can overdo it, Doctor. But it is your prerogative to request another examination. As luck has it, I am available if it doesn't take more than an hour. Otherwise you will seriously upset a Starfleet Admiral. And that I would advise you not to do. Not to this one." Nymes smiled at that, before reaching into the medkit for the neural scanner, which he affixed to the Captain’s temple, and starting bioscan with the kit’s tricorder. After the  tricorder scan completed, Nymes turned to the Captain once more. “Do you have any current medical problems, sir? Anything changed since I last saw you in Sickbay?” (reply Stakes) “Well, the scans are normal the high resolution neural scan.” Nymes said, indicating the small, blinking piece of technology affixed to the Captain’s temple. “Will complete in 10 minutes, and will automatically update itself into your file. I fully expect the results to mirror those I have taken with the Tricorder, and, results not-withstanding, I am prepared to pass you fit to fly. This will, of course, be noted in your medical file.” (reply Stakes) Nymes nodded once; taking his leave he left the ready room, turning to the Turbolift, finding his way to his quarters on Geneva to change into his whites. (reply any) (posted byGC) (Starbase Geneva -  Promenade CMO Dr Nymes, CONN Ele Night & CSO/2O Dale Bracken -1900) “Hey, Lew!” was the shout, as the trill walked along the promenade, ready to melt away into the background, let down in his attempt by the garishly white dress uniform. Nymes looked around before seeing who was to blame for the indiscrete salutation, and wasn’t surprised to see Ele sitting at a round table outside one of the bars on the base; sipping a coffee as she relaxed, saying farewell animatedly to a  friend  who had just stood up from the table. “So you got a rank bump as well, then, Lewis.” She said, happy in her ability to stay on first name terms with most of the crew off duty, and knowing that her long-standing friend would expect some sort of ribbing for the promotion. Nymes smiled as he approached the group, and nodded. “’Tis the season, I guess. You know, I’m not sure what’s worse: that I have to be in whites for a day I’m sure these whites could be more comfortable that I had to search through the database to replicate the medal ribbons after they were incinerated in the Sickbay fire;  or the fact that we’ll be leaving the base soon...” It was a leading statement, but one that Ele latched onto with typical aplomb. “So you saw that lady from the party again then?” “Wonders never cease; you didn’t manage to ruin that night for me, Ele.” Nymes smirked, as he gained the attention of a waiter. “Trillian Tea please.” It was difficult to imagine Ele’s reaction; one of wide-eyed amazement, happiness and shock rolled into one. “So....” “So what, Miss Night?” “So who is she?” “’She’ is Dr Hazel Jones, from Geneva.” Nymes said, simply. Ele rolled her eyes at this, Lewis was used to deflecting the pilot’s interest in his life. “Fine. Be that way, Lewis.”  The waiter returned, a tray balanced on his skilled hand, a cup of tea nestled on it. As Nymes took the cup, placing it on the table, he looked at the empty chairs positioned around them. “Expecting anyone?” Ele nodded, “Yeah, a few folks from the pilots mess were here a while ago; Tim just left” She said, referencing the man who had left as the trill arrived. “ I think Dee will be here soon too.” “The old crowd.” Nymes replied. A troubled Dale seemed to walk past them, before doubling back to the pair at the table and taking a seat. “Hey everyone.” She said, but taking care not to say what was troubling her, she shied away from the quizzical looks she was being given. Something in her air showed her to be uneasy, almost off colour, but she was stoic enough to hush Nymes’ concern for her. Ele seized on the arrival to ask the question she obviously had wanted to ask right from the start. “So, when do we meet her, Lew?” Nymes considered the group for a moment. “let’s see; Do I want to inflicit my closest friends on someone I just met?” Nymes tailed off as the group focused on a spot above the trill’s head. “She’s standing behind me now, isn’t she?” “Well... she could be...” “Yeah, I could be, Lewis... Is this a new trick to sweep me off my feet? Get a Promotion and try and blind everyone with Dress-ones?” Hazel said by way of introduction, endearing herself to Ele forever. Ele and Dee laughed at the answer,  Nymes was backpeddling without knowing it, but the mood was amiable, at least. “When I said someone I just met...” “Yeah, I meant to ask you about that, Lewis.” Hazel returned, “But then I figured you’d kick yourself enough if I didn’t bring it up.” She smiled again, her blonde hair framing her face as she took the vacant seat next to the trill, planting a kiss on his cheek. Ele smirked, already making up her mind about the new lieutenant jg in the group. She was intelligent and funny, not intimidated by the gaggle of women around Nymes. “I’m Elenor Night, I’m his pilot, and have the misfortune to be his friend.” She said as way of introduction. “Well,” she said, turning to the trill. “You didn’t introduce us!” “...” Nymes was fighting a losing battle, his body language matching his dress robes as a flag of surrender. “And the nicer one of these two ladies is Lieutenant Bracken, 2O of the Mithrandir.” “Charmed, Lieutenant.” Dee replied, noting the officers blue uniform denoting her to be medical or science, the single gold and black pips reflecting the light from the vase on the table. “Nice to finally meet his friends; Hazel Jones.” Hazel replied, “So what are you all up to this evening?” Immediately the atmosphere was informal, Hazel readily accepted by the two officers who knew the trill so well, the conversation loose and filled with laughter. “Yeah, we are just having a quiet drink, catching up before sorting out more of the same old paperwork tomorrow. Shakedown’s going to start soon.” Ele had said, to be countered by Lewis “That’s when you get to crash the ship and blame engineering, Ele.” The group sat around, laughing and joking, a diorama of amicable camaraderie, a sight much improved from the same place during the war. (reply any/none) (posted by GC) >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Mission: Interlude Stardate: 2408.02.23 <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< (USS Mithrandir - Holodeck - OPS Ensign Kit Spero and LMH - 0900) Kit had been up since 0600 supervising the end of the download of the new modifications to the LMH. It had now finished and she planned to test it out before releasing it to Sickbay for use. She had configured the holodeck to represent the Mithrandir's small Sickbay and was now preparing to initialise the LMH. She had a backed-up version of the original LMH program and as soon as she was confident that the modifications worked, she would delete the back-up as instructed by the program's creator. There would be a back-up taken of the new version before she released it to Sickbay, so if anything went wrong the back-up could be initiated. But there'd be no way back to the pre-modified version. A final glance round the holo-Sickbay and she nodded to herself. It would do. "Computer, initialise beta version of the LMH program." A tall, lean, bearded figure materialised in front of her and turned his piercing blue eyes on her. "Well?" he said. "What is that you require?" He looked around. "I see this place hasn't changed much," he added disparagingly. "Still small and pokey but I have to say the scenery is improved." Kit looked surprised. "It has?" she asked. She'd been very careful to copy the exact layout of Sickbay. "Yes, last time there was a male Trill, judging by the amount of over-sized freckles around his face and neck. You, madam, are a distinct improvement. Though not," he added with a tinge of disapproval, "Medical staff. I assume the Trill is gone so you need my services. Who are you and what do you require?" Kit smiled in spite of herself as she tapped the PADD in her hand, running the diagnostic as she spoke. "I'm Ensign Cattia Spero, OPS. I'm testing your program after some modifications," she said. The LMH frowned, and then nodded. "I noticed a distinct improvement," he commented. "No more sucking up." "Sucking up?" Kit asked, intrigued in spite of herself. "Please state the nature of the medical emergency," the LMH intoned in a mock-pleasant tone. "Understood Sir. Welcome aboard," he continued, sarcasm dripping through the words. "Do you know who they based me on?" he asked. Kit shook her head. She hadn't checked up on that yet. "Rick O'Shea. *The* Dr Rick O'Shea. " He paused, obviously waiting for something from Kit, who after some thought provided it. "Dr Rick O'Shea? The diagnostic specialist? The one who found the cure for Speleo-choriomeningitis?" she asked, impressed. Speleo-choriomeningitis had been incurable until O'Shea had been called to an outbreak some six months previously. The whole quadrant was aware of his achievement. "The same. So do they put me somewhere my immense talents can be used? No. They stick me on a small bath-tub of a ship to remove splinters and dispense headache pills to the idiots that people the ship. *And* suck up to some junior doctor barely out of medical school. What was his name, Nymes, wasn't it? Did they replace him, by the way, or am I expected to run the whole department on my own?" Kit bit her lip. "Dr Nymes is still the CMO of the Mithrandir," she said. "Oh, joy." The LMH looked at her, frowning slightly. "Shouldn't you be asking me to run some kind of diagnostic?" he demanded. Kit gestured with the PADD. "It's running as we speak," she said. "In fact...." she glanced at the display. "It's finished. And you check out perfectly." The LMH rolled his eyes. "Of course I do. So are you going to call Nymes in here? Introduce me to him?" Kit shook her head. "No, this is just a holodeck. But we have holo-emitters throughout the ship. You can make your own way to Sickbay - access the ship's schematics and that will show you the way." His face went still for the briefest of instants, and then he nodded. "I took the opportunity to download the Sickbay schedule for today at the same time. I note you are scheduled for a medical examination in one hour's time. It seems that Nymes is conducting them all morning. No doubt he will require my assistance with his undoubtedly heavy workload, so maybe I will have the pleasure of having you lie to me later." "Pardon?" "Everybody lies," he said matter-of-factly. "Especially patients. Grasp that simple fact and you won't go far wrong." Kit shook her head. "Vulcans don't lie," she pointed out. "Ha! A lot you know. *Everybody* lies. It's just *how* they lie that varies." "That's very cynical," Kit said. "True though. Unless I'm lying, of course," he said pleasantly. Kit rolled her eyes. "Computer, arch," she said. The exit appeared. "That's your way out," she added. "I'd never have guessed. Do you often state the obvious or is this just for my benefit? Because it really isn't necessary. I do have a brain the size of a planet. Relatively speaking, of course. But it is capable of working out where the exit to a holodeck is, especially when someone has just requested it. No doubt I will see you later, at some point. But for now I will go where I can be more use. Sticking-plaster at the ready, to coin a 20th century phrase. Sticking-plaster as such is redundant now, of course." With that, he turned and left the holodeck. For a moment Kit stood silent. Then she said, "Computer, delete LMH Mark 1-A. Authorisation Spero Lambda-Five-Gamma-Seven." [LMH Mark 1-A deleted.] Kit nodded to herself. "End program Mithrandir-Sickbay1." The holodeck returned to its normal, black and yellow state and Kit left to go to the Mess Hall for breakfast. (USS Mithrandir - Sickbay - LMH - 0935) The LMH entered Sickbay and looked around for the CMO. Not seeing him immediately he stopped a passing medical officer. "Where's the CMO?" he asked abruptly. "I suppose he'll be wanting me to help?" (Reply medic, Nymes, Any) (Posted by Liz) (USS Mithrandir - Sickbay Dr Nymes  - 0936) The LMH entered Sickbay and looked around for the CMO. Not seeing him immediately he stopped a passing medical officer. "Where's the CMO?" he asked abruptly. "I suppose he'll be wanting me to help?" Nymes sat at his desk in the office, tapping out the final notes on Ele Night’s medical record, preparing to call the next officer through for the medical, when he became aware of a “discussion” outside his door. Standing up, he noticed an unknown crewmember talking to Diane Duande, and with a nod to his triage nurse he interceded into the conversation. “What seems to be the problem, Diane?” “This man is looking for you, sir.” Was Diane’s rather flustered response it had been a busy morning so far, and the appearance of an abrupt and arrogant man had thrown her relatively dependable good nature for a spin. “And he has found me. The new LMH, I believe. Dr Nymes; the CMO as I am sure you are aware. Would you care to bring me up to speed on your recent changes, please, doctor.” (Reply LMH) (Posted by GC)