STF

Main Sim [Bridge]: The Kestrel and the Shrike

Posted Aug. 8, 2021, 4:29 p.m. by Lieutenant Commander Kohr (Executive Officer) (Jason Wolfe)

Posted by Captain Rende Asam (Captain) in Main Sim [Bridge]: The Kestrel and the Shrike

Posted by Lieutenant Commander Kohr (Executive Officer) in Main Sim [Bridge]: The Kestrel and the Shrike

Posted by Lieutenant Markus Woods (Chief Science Officer) in Main Sim [Bridge]: The Kestrel and the Shrike

[SNIP]

The tactical officer blinked at him, but he gave her what he hoped was an encouraging nod. While he was well within his right to assume her position, one thing he’d learned in Starfleet was the value of trusting one’s subordinates. In a tense situation respect and morale were just as important as phasers and shields. He did watch the readouts carefully, but that was more a warrior’s curiosity and preparedness than concern for her thoroughness.

He turned to the science station. “Lieutenant Loeffler, scan Starfleet’s database for any known encounters with similar vessels or technology, starting with both the Enterprise and the Bonaventure. I want to know as much about that ship and its composition as possible.”

=^=Transporter Room Two,=^= Kohr grunted finally, =^=maintain a lock on our away team. Beam them back upon any sign of distress, or if the alien ship moves more than 39,000 kilometers from the Viking.=^=

Once all stations returned assent and set to their assigned tasks, Kohr’s attention returned to the captain and the vessel on their view screen.

Kohr monitored the away team’s progress at an auxiliary console at the bridge’s rear mirroring the tactical station, his heavy brow even more deeply furrowed as he considered their situation. So the alien ship was not as empty as it had first appeared, he noted gravely. But are they crew or are they guests of previous encounters? After tapping a few commands, the energy distribution readout washed down the left side of the screen. With a greater draw on the ship’s grid devoted to a single pod, he was more curious as to its contents than the others.

As if mirroring his thoughts, he noticed the another of the away team’s locator signals break off and head towards the prioritized pod. While he was perhaps wary of the Viking crew encountering a new species—the most awkward first contact situation of his career, if so—the Klingon had to admit that the possibility of some actual answers intrigued him. That, however, would have to wait until the away team made an informed decision on how best to handle the pods and their contents. Nodding to himself Kohr turned his attention to the ship’s systems, in particular their propulsion and defensive systems.

If the shrike dips for the trees, he glowered, I will be prepared to clip its wings.
—Kohr, Executive Officer—

“Cmdr Kohr. Let’s see what the the ship makes of this. Respond with 2.9 liters of matter. Just that nothing else.” Mathematics was the first universal language. Warp travel was also the standard by which they dictated when to make first contact with new species. The statement of 2.0 liters of anti-matter could be a request, an offer, or a way to determine if they understood the ratio of matter to anti-matter was 1:1 and there fore had the knowledge for warp capable space flight. Or it could be something completely different. Rende tapped fingers to her console quietly waiting for a response from the away team.

Rende, CO

“Aye, Captain.” Kohr nodded crisply, then turned to the console and coded the requested transmission. What returned to them brought a frustrated growl from deep in his gut. Thankfully he was controlled enough that it did not surface, merely seethed in his chest.

The ship altered its message in response to Viking =^=Requesting, 2.9 liters of antimatter. Not requesting 2.9 matter.=^=

GM

“More curious still,” he said more to himself than to anyone else, though his resounding voice would carry. The Klingon stared at the screen hard enough to crack it, though thankfully it did not, before he righted himself and faced Rende. “Perhaps the vessel is in some sort of distress? That would explain the encapsulated crew and minimal life support until the away team’s arrival. If, however, it is a requested payment, what service have they—or might they—be providing? It evokes a curious Terran saying a colleague often quoted when dealing with Ferengi and the like: ‘Never pay cash up front.’ To that end, I would very much like to know what we are agreeing to and with whom we are dealing with first.”

Kohr stepped up to the tactical station and peered over Pearson’s shoulder at the defensive analysis she was pouring over, specifically whether or not the alien vessel appeared in=need of the antimatter it was requesting.
—Kohr, Executive Officer—

Rende turned to look at Kohr meeting his gaze. She didn’t like it either. “Perhaps we should simply ask. For what purpose is it requesting the anti-matter. Does it need it and is asking assistance or is it, as you say, payment for some service. And if payment what are we getting. I don’t like it. I also don’t like that the away team hasn’t answered.”

She nodded to the comms officer and the channel opened. =/\=Viking to Away Team. I want a status report.=/\=

Rende, CO

Streaming to the ship was at least one datastream from one of the tricorders. It was from one of the science loadouts, and traced back to Lieutenant Woods. It was set to slurp up as much data as possible, scanning the entire EM band, as well as measuring environmental factors, 3D inertial mapping data and more.

A chirp came from the console behind him and Kohr turned to investigate. Noting that the energy distribution readouts had changed, he reviewed their path. While it was fortunate that the vessel was not routing power to defensive or offensive systems, the life sign that was being awakened within the pod did not ease the tension between his shoulders.

“Captain,” he called, “a pod has begun what appears to be a cycle to bring its contents up from deep sleep. Life signs are strong—unusually strong—but it appears to be unconscious for the moment. No other changes have been detected by our sensors.”

OOC: Not relevant enough to edit, but it’s not possible to know what the pod is cycling to revive someone, perhaps a good science officer to determine that there is a power draw in the medical section, but for what purpose one would not be able to determine, until the life form started reading.

The Klingon tapped a few commands into the interface, and new data washed down the screen. “Perhaps the ambient EM fluctuations are distorting our comm signal, or they are focused on threat assessment. Transporter lock is holding.”

Glaring at the wakening life sign, Kohr leaned against the console and folded his arms across his chest. Let us hope you have answers for us.
—Kohr, Executive Officer—

=^=Viking Actual, we’ve located what appear to be four survivors in cryostasis. The vessel is auto-thawing one of them. I would assume it’s one of the command crew if not commanding officer.=^= Markus’ voice came through, though it was quiet.

Rende had been sitting on the edge of her chair, leaned forward, weight on her left forearm on the arm rest, her right hand clasped around the opposite arm rest, elbow locked as she stared at the alien ship across the view screen. When Markus’ voice came through the com she sat back in her chair. Finally after after more than one attempt to get contact. =/\= I appreciate the update, Lt Woods. We are getting a request for the alien ship for 2.9 litters of anti-matter. Perhaps you or Lt Cmdr Korczak can find out why. =/\=

=/\=Bridge to Lt Stone and Lt Sharvi, report to the bridge.=/\= She turned to Khor, “We have transporter locks, but I want constant read outs of the away teams vital signs. Set Science station 2 up to do so. I want Lt Sharvi monitoring that as soon as he arrives.” She looked at the tactical officer, “Split the view screen, I want to see the ship on half the screen. Split the other half into a read out of energy output and then a deck by deck layout based on the information the ship sent, what our sensors are getting, along with the information coming in from Lt Wood’s linked tricorder.”

The Klingon nodded ascent and moved to the appropriate station. It was a simple enough task but he was silently grateful for the interruption. Once he was done, Kohr returned to his own station… and the vexing, unchanged conundrum lurking in space.

When Stone and Sharvi appeared, “Lt Stone this alien ship is asking us for 2.9 liters of antimatter. First do we have it to give, second scan that ship and tell me why they need it. I also want to know what is going on with the power. Our initial scans showed NO area that was powered to sustain life, but apparently there are stasis pods powering up over there, which means our sensors didn’t pick that up. Why?”

“Lt Sharvi, take science station 2. I want a constant read out of the away team’s vital signs, and as we pick up alien life I want those too.”

Rende stood up and pacing a few steps towards the view screen and then coming to a complete stand still. The marine in her would much rather be doing something than waiting. “Kohr, what do you think?”

Rende, CO

The Chief Science Officer’s voice came back over the relay,t hough it sounded as though he was trying to be quiet. Not hiding, but trying to be respectful of other goings-on. =^=Easily explained enough. The ship seemed to be on a power conservation protocol. From what we can ascertain, they’re out of gas, or almost. Our guest identifies themself as Lord Hub’rabi, and seems to confirm that hypothesis with the ship’s computer system. Seems neighborly enough, so far.=^=

Lt Woods, CSO

Kohr took one last baleful glance at the tactical readouts before slapping a gauntleted hand on the console and punching up clear. The screen darkened with his mood, but he had it well under control as he turned to the captain. He would not dishonor himself with an outburst, nor would he disappoint his commanding officer. Why, then, he snarled to himself, is this so irritating?

His composure was firmly locked by the time he took his place at Rende’s side, taking a moment to study the alien vessel on the viewscreen. His free hand clasped the wrist of his gauntlet hard enough that the leather hushed a protest. It was always a battle within him—the warrior’s desire to be at the van and the officer’s duty of command. But perhaps there was a way to sate both.

Rende glanced at the offended leather and nodded silently to herself. She understood Khor’s frustration. Too many years hoping for peace and the reality so much more violent. She’d rather get out in front of it. Face it head on rather than standing safely on the bridge.

“If he is a creature of station,” the Klingon said slowly, his baritone carrying a sly edge to it, “perhaps it would be permitted to extend him due diplomatic courtesy aboard the Viking. It would allow us to study them more thoroughly, learn what we can about them in our own territory. We can offer them respite away from key areas, have the science and engineering teams learn what they can under the guise of rendering repair assistance. If nothing else, it would buy us time to determine their purpose in this region of space. They are quite far from their own people, and I for one would know why. They could easily be explorers as we.”

“Or perhaps fugitives,” he murmured darkly, as much to himself as the captain.

Rende glanced up at him she was having the same thought. “And I am curious how long they have been asleep. And if anyone is chasing after them. When the Botony Bay left Earth several ships were sent out after it. This ship seems large for an escape…prison ship or cross galactic cruise ship? Get in touch with Korczak, have him extend the invitation and an offer to assist repairs. Let engineering and science get a better look at that ship.”

Rende, CO

Kohr nodded, stepped politely away from the captain before tapping his comm badge. =^=Kohr to Korczak. Lieutenant, please inform your host that the Viking is standing by to render assistance in the repair of his vessel should he require it. Extend an invitation to join us should he and a delegation from his ship wish a respite from their present accommodations while we consider their request for anti-matter. Once the away team completes their survey and determines there is no danger to the vessel and crew, return to the Viking.=^=

After a pause for consideration, the Klingon tapped his comm badge again to mute his end of the connection. That was simple enough. The alien’s reply to their offer of assistance and benevolent invitation could give them more clues as to their objective here in this section of space. Assuming the return of the away team was not interrupted, the Viking still held the advantage. He trusted in Lieutenant Korczak’s ability to interpret his meaning, smooth over any rough edges between species. Kohr tended to be more… direct than diplomacy would wish sometimes.

“Lieutenant Pearson,” he called back to the tactical officer, “what is the status of our tactical assessment of the alien vessel?”

The woman tapped furiously at her console, gave him a frustrated shake of the head. “I’m sorry, sir, I’m having trouble with some of these readings. I’ll have it sorted soon.”

The Klingon nodded, then turned back to the viewscreen. Your move, he thought bleakly.
—Kohr, Executive Officer—
[OOC: Still waiting on tactical, just a reminder]


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