-- Posted by Gatac on 11:41 am on Oct. 31, 2003 Captain's Log, USS Eclipse, Stardate 63003.53, Captain Denning. We are currently en-route to Deep Space 7. After three months of shakedown beyond Federation borders, everyone's glad that we're actually bringing the ship back in one piece - mostly, anyway. We did encounter a few glitches, but I must admit that the Vulcan yards delivered an outstanding piece of engineering. Commander Cranston doesn't seem to be of the same opinion, but considering that he was transferred from Utopia Planitia, that is more than understandable. The rest of the crew appears to be capable, if somewhat unremarkable. "Computer, pause recording and delete last sentence." "Affirmative." "Resume." As far as I can tell, the crew is solid, and I look forward to working with them in earnest after the Eclipse has received it's field refit. We will have about three Terran days off-duty, and I believe that shore leave on DS7 will significantly improve crew morale. End log. Denning lifted himself from the chair in his ready room and began pacing around. 45 years old, he briefly wondered whether he was one of the unremarkable crew he'd nearly logged. He was neither the youngest nor the oldest Captain in Starfleet, had not broken any records, nor made any First Contacts. It was not lack of physical or mental power; Carsten Denning prouded himself on being both an avid physical fitness devotee and bookworm. He simply lived the life of 99% of the fleet - it was alright, nothing extraordinarily bad or good being thrown in his way. He did his job with some degree of pride, but he'd come a long way in realising that there was only one Enterprise, and he wouldn't be it's Captain. He began staring out of the window. Bolts of Tcherenkov radiation shot over the navigational deflector, forming streaks of light one might just mistake for passing stars - if it were possible for warp drive to go that fast. People like Denning belonged to a category of knowledgable people who could recall from memory why these streaks could never be passing stars, and who would be able to prove the theorem with a few in-promptu calculations, all in neat and tidy form as if it were the answer to a question at the Academy's entry exam. But Denning was one step ahead of most of these people. He knew he was one of them. And he knew that he'd never be one of the second kind of knowledgable people, those who'd dream and tinker, those who'd just keep going at it until they could make it so that you would see the stars move by. The results of such dreams took up quite some volume on the Eclipse, and in a flash, Denning's mood passed. Hadn't they skipped the Quantum Slipstream stress test ? Yes. They had. Denning grinned. It was time to liven up the view a bit. -- Posted by Gatac on 1:25 pm on Nov. 1, 2003 As Denning escaped from his ready room, he was met by a few surprised looks of the personnel on Beta Shift. Obviously, nobody had expected him to be there, and his reappearance left everyone witnessing his exit to ponder one of three possible scenarios: A) He'd been in that room since Alpha Shift. Seeing that Beta Shift was drawing to a close, that would have meant about 7 hours minimum. Possible, but unlikely. B) He'd used the Transporter system. Technically entirely feasable, remarkable only for the fact that it implied that Denning had a few tricks up his sleave to fool the computer and prevent any alerts - after all, no intership transfers were scheduled, and to mask one from the internal security sensors would have been quite a feat. C) He'd made his way through the Jeffries Tubes. That would imply a willingness to exhaust quite some physical reserves, as he would have had to start at something like Deck 8 to find a suitably unwatched access hatch. While the bridge crew was somewhat lost in trying to determine which possibility made their Captain seem more awe-inspiring, Denning walked up to his chair and sat down. He didn't say anything. Nobody asked the question. After a suitably ackward pause, Lt. Commander Rodan spoke up. As Security Officer, it was his job to know just what stunt the captain had pulled, but he decided that he'd have time for solving the riddle later. After all, him being a Kzin, riddles and such could be confined to times when target practice would become boring. "Captain, there was a minor incident in Main Engineering while you were away. Commander Cranston and Ensign Sirok had a somewhat heated argument. I believe you'll want to speak to both of them. Since there was no physical combat, I felt that it could wait a bit. Do you wish to be informed of similar incidents at once in the future ?" "No, Commander, that's quite alright. I'll see to it later. Anything else ?" "Other than that, I believe that nothing out of the ordinary happened." Another voice rose from the console to the other side. Lt. Raz Guvet, a beefy Cardassian of unusually friendly disposition and the officer on duty at Ops, began to call out some seemingly random numbers and figures. Denning listened. Speed nominal, all systems green, all shuttlecraft secure, etc...It was a report that, quite literally, meant that there was nothing to report. In the end, Denning merely nodded to cut off Guvet's seemingly never-ending torrent of gibberish, then tapped his combadge. "Captain to all hands. Prepare for Quantum Slipstream." At this precise moment: - Cranston shoved a handful of isolinear chips in a storage container and began to brace that container against his chest, murmuring a few prayers - - Half a dozen medical holograms blinked at each other, then deactivated in unison, - - Everyone not currently convinced of a scarcely-tested propulsion system frantically grabbed anything that appeared to be solidly attached to the ship's superstructure. - and the Ensign on pilot duty merely punched a few buttons on her console. The result of this sequence was that a gradual shifting noise echoed through the ship, not unlike the sound of structral stress, but rather more tame, as if someone had heard it and modified it so that it sounded safe and normal. The cause of this audible noise was that, in order for the ship to enter Slipstream, a few nominally invisible components required exposing. Consequently, hull segments towards the rear of the Primary Hull shifted to new positions, revealing delicate equipment nominally hidden away from the many dangers of unchartered space. Compared to that, the equally critical reconfiguration of the navigational deflectors was absolutely soundless. Finally, about five seconds later, the Ensign saw a green light on her display and relayed that information. "Slipstream configuration active. Secondary Deflector ready for initialisation pulse." "Engage." What happened next was a show of unnatural beauty. A beam, easily mistakeable for a weapon, lanced out of the ship's belly, soon followed by a second one. Some distance from the ship's bow, they crossed. Nominally, this would mean next to nothing for any other two beams, but what was happening here was that the two interacted, locally violating space-time by their interplay. Of course, the universe wouldn't have made it this far without means to protect itself from such a violation, and quickly, the focal point of the beams was contained. As far as the universe was concerned, the problem was solved, the anomaly prevented from expanding further. That this stunt had the secondary effect of drilling a pathway through subspace did not count. Aboard the Eclipse, the young Ensign's voice began to reach ever higher levels of agitation. "Slipstream is forming...Conduit established. Entering Slipstream in three, two, one..." And then - nothing. No shaking, no explosions, no detonating consoles throwing crew members around. In fact, there was such a lack of outside influence that it felt mildly disturbing to those who assocated fast travel with the faint hint of acceleration that bled through the inertial dampeners. If it weren't for the facts that the Eclipse was now in a shimmery, whiteish conduit, was travelling at 25,000 times the speed of light and had from one second to another completely disappeared from the Federation sensor network, one could've believed that nothing of any consequence had happened. In this case, only Guvet's voice broke the silence of awe induced by total lack of disasterous circumstances. "We have entered Slipstream. Hull Ionisation within projected levels. I'd say we're safe for at least eight hours before we have to drop back to warp." At this point, Denning's consciousness caught up with his body, and he nodded again, a move which was almost becoming a bad habit for him. "Understood. If you see any instabilities, take no chances. All the shore leave in the world won't help us if we end up as loser of the great battle The Entire Domain of Subspace against One Little Ship." -- Posted by Gatac on 12:26 am on Nov. 2, 2003 Meanwhile, in Main Engineering... Sometime around this moment, Commander Richard Cranston was able to release the death grip that fixed him to a storage container for isolinear chips. Noting that he was the first one to recompose himself, he quickly straightened up and watched with smug satisfaction that everybody quickly returned to their posts. Now to keep the damn ship from blowing up. As Cranston noted, Slipstream was hostile environment. On the first tests, refitted starships were barely capable of sustaining an hour of flight without catastrophic hull damage. After all, subspace stress was a serious danger, and Slipstream provided more than enough of it to require an entirely new generation of SIF. Once that problem was solved, Slipstream appeared to be safe - until a test probe mysteriously vanished and came out into realspace as hunk of scrap metal, showing signs of extreme stress forces that had crushed the object. Heated research followed. SIF failure ? No, impossible, the system was stable against twice the projected maximum subspace stress. Initiator burnout ? What could be recovered from the probe showed that the answer was - probably - no. Eventually, Cranston mused, they'd come to the conclusion that Slisptream imparts quasi-random partial charges into the hull material, a process that speeds up exponentially and, upon reaching a kind of treshold, prompts a sudden and violent collapse of the conduit, crushing the ship and randomly phasing it back into realspace. The best part was that this treshold was dependant on the local properties of subspace, and thus entirely unpredictable, though there was an established range of the most probably values. Of course, the Eclipse had sensors and was following Draconian safety measures. Still, the possibility that the ship could be crushed like an egg without warning was not a pleasant thought. Add to this that work on a workable method of depolarization was still in progress, and Cranston had all the reasons in the universe to be worried. To his immense relief, the Eclipse dropped out of Slipstream some ten hours later. By now, Alpha Shift was on again, and he realised that he hadn't been able to feel weary for the past twelve hours. The danger having passed, he left the ship in the capable hands of Ensign Sirok - which, considering Sirok's Vulcan heritage and rank that was in no way proportional to his knowledge about Engineering operations, was an entirely understandable and reasonable action, though neatly showcasing the ad-hoc command structure in place - and left for his quarters to finally get some sleep. As he stumbld through the doors, biosensors in his combadge measured his state of exhaustion and deduced that he wantd to sleep. Following that, motion sensors installed in his quarters recognised that Commander Richard Cranston, Chief Engineer, USS Eclipse, was falling face first towards the ground. In a flash, the Proteus array sprang to life and projected a bed in front of the nearly sleepwalking officer, which resulted in a soft thump and consequent snoring. The computer verified that Cranston had not sustained injury and deduced from a combination of sound levels and brain wave scans that he was now asleep. Silently, the computer switched off the lights and locked the doors. If the computer was able to scan dreams, it would have found that Cranston was imagining himself as Atlas wedged between two bulging deck plates, trying to keep them from giving in to some outside pressure. Still, it noticed his erratic breath, correctly deduced that he was having a nightmare, and began to play soothing classical music, to the effect that Cranston's dream was modified in such a way that he was now trying to hold up an entire stage set with the Eclipse's Amateur Philharmonic Orchestra perched on top. Somehow, the mental image of Ensign Sirok in a suit playing second fiddle to himself in a gleaming white suit was calming, and he fell deeper into dreamless, more relaxing sleep. The computer switched off the music and left Cranston to his devices. -- Posted by Gatac on 12:28 pm on Nov. 14, 2003 Captain's Log, USS Eclipse, Stardate 63007.4, Captain Denning Denning yawned, then began his entry. As I'm speaking, the Eclipse is preparing for docking with Deep Space 7. It's a routine action and proceeding smoothly, but I'd still feel better if the Helm was manned. I guess it's not much of a difference if it's gray matter in your head or in a bioneural gelpack, but it still feels wrong. There's a reason why ships have pilots. Slipstream works as well as we expected, perhaps even a bit better. We don't know if it will work this good when the ship is in a less ideal state, and I'm not inclined to find out at the moment. I've been told Dr. Cochrane was drunk when he made the first warp transit. We don't have that luxury. Burn out the warp coils, you come to a stop. Touch the Slipstream subsystems, and you're crushed. Commander Cranston told me he had nightmares about it, and I believe him. "Computer, end log." Denning looked around for reassurance, but found his ready room empty. Sometimes, he wondered whether a ship could work too well, and the Eclipse seemed to fit that bill. Not being waylaid by every hostile power between Sol and Talax helped, but still, a prototype didn't spend three months without any serious problems on the way. Denning had been on the Akira shakedown, then still only Lt.-Commander, and that ship had a lot of problems considering that it was almost exclusively rehashed technology pioneered on other ships. Either the Advanced Starship Design Bureau had cranked up it's quality assurance standards significantly when he wasn't looking, or he had an inhumanly skilled team of engineers aboard. He shook his head. No. There had to be something fishy... "Bridge to Captain Denning." Denning tapped the combadge on his uniform. The small pin initiated it's biometric identification routine, scanning for signs that the hand that touched it belonged to a an authorised user, finally finding such signs and chirping in a cheery tone to indicate that a channel had been opened. "Denning here. What's the situation ?" "We have docked and been cleared by the station sensors. Awaiting your orders, Captain." "I'll get right to it." Denning tapped the badge again. Simple as it was, it went through the whole identification process again; sophisticated as it was, the time lost in that behaviour was not subjectively perceivable by the vast majority of humanoids. The badge thus closed the channel. Denning tapped it once more, again proving that the hand was still attached to the authorized user that had been in it's possession just a second ago and still was, thank you very much, and the badge opened another channel for him. "Captain to all hands. I have received word that the Eclipse is safely docked at Deep Space Seven. All personnel currently not on duty is hereby authorized to disembark. Personnel on duty stand by and prepare to secure the ship. I'd like to thank everyone for their good work." Should he say something more grandiose ? No, Denning wasn't good at speeches. He just closed the channel. Since a speech was everything that now stood between about 3/4th of the crew and their shore leave, it was probably for the better that he'd kept it at that. Hm. Bridge. As he passed the door to the ship's nervous centre, he found himself checking the personnel on duty again. Rodan was there, obviously frustrated with something - maybe a malfunctioning system, a thought which amused Denning and served to calm him somewhat -, and Guvet stared blankly ahead from his station, glancing at the viewscreen. Between the two, Commander Cranston stood, having vacated the Captain's Chair but frozen in movement at the sight of the main viewscreen. Denning waited for a few seconds if anyone would actually shout "Captain on the bridge !", but nobody did, and he decided to leave it at that. "Anything interesting out there, Commander?" "I'd say so, Sir. Have a look yourself." Officer Talk 101 - Never tell the Captain what he actually wants to know. Make him come over. Denning walked around, ending up in front of the Turbolift, and had a good look at the viewscreen. "Looks like an exterior camera to me. Number 7, starboard dorsal ?" "Yes, Sir." "And it's showing me part of DS7 and a Sovereign. What does that tell me ? That there's an 'Enhanced Deterrance Explorer'" - Denning had found a way to audibly portray quotation marks without using his fingers - "parked in the spot next to us?" "It's the Titan, Sir." Denning said nothing. -- Posted by Gatac on 11:11 pm on Nov. 21, 2003 Denning disembarked with everyone else at the main starboard airlock on Deck 7, but veered off into a different direction. They headed for their quarters, PROTEUS obediently transporting their sparse belongings ahead of them. Denning wondered. Was there anything they had that was not replicated, not just a hardcopy of some digital storage ? Even he only really owned things he'd been given as presents on First Contacts, and for a second, the uniform collar  shuffled uncomfortably against his neck. The Federation was steadily pushing aside and eliminating real things with it's replicator economy, the flipside of a coin that had the Borg at the other end of the galaxy doing the same to individuality. He shivered, remembered why the Klingons and Romulans had long been hostile to the Federation. They didn't need to do anything; the sheer concept of a society where you could have most of what you wanted and worked not for survival, but higher concepts, had been threatening their way of life for centuries. The Borg. The Federation. Whether it's a fleet of explorers or a single cube, it's millions of tons of symbolism bearing down on your way of life at warp speed. That could frighten anyone. Denning was on his way to Ops, recalling who he was about to meet. Riker. Admiral Riker. Someone whose Captain's Pips barely had had enough time to warm up to environmental temperature before he had been made a rear admiral. But then, all of Picard's henchmen seemed to munch promotions for breakfast. He wondered. What was the Titan doing here ? -- Posted by Gatac on 12:49 am on Nov. 29, 2003 "Ah, Captain. We've been expecting you." Riker extended his hand. Denning took it, reluctantly. William Riker had the reputation of being a friendly man with an ear for his subordinates, but he was also known for getting rid of problems discreetly. Too discreetly. "Admiral. May I inquire as to the reason of your stay ?" "Well, Fleet Command wanted to send you your next assignment, but since my crew needed shore leave and we were in the vicinity, I decided I'd speak to you in person." Denning nodded. "I see. Has a new Captain been determined yet? The Eclipse is a good ship, and I think it would be an honor for anyone to serve on her." "It's not a transfer for you. We're reassigning the entire ship and it's crew." "Where to?" Riker smiled, perhaps reminded of days when he was possessed of such eagerness. Then, his face returned to neutral, him being the bearer of less than good news. "Starfleet Intelligence has requested your ship." "Intelligence ?" A frown played over Denning's face. Normally, Intelligence built their own ships... "That also means that some modifications will be made to the Eclipse." "What about the crew ?" "They are being informed as we speak. Everyone has passed the required background checks, but if they don't want to, we've got willing personnel on standby." "Sounds like it's urgent." "I'm not telling you a secret when I say that the Eclipse will leave in 71 hours. By then, she will have a crew of willing Intelligence personnel. We have taken all necessary steps to ensure that a transfer from the Eclipse will cause no...ripple...in your career." Riker's look was easy enough to read it. Ready to turn your job into your life ? Denning struggled for a second, but managed to stammer an answer. "I'll...consider it." "Good. You are to remain on Deep Space 7 until your next assignment is decided upon. Specifically, the Eclipse is off limits." "Yes, Sir." "Dismissed." Denning nodded and disappeared from Ops as he had entered - insignificant and unnoticed. On the way to his quarters, he walked by the Eclipse's docking pylon. Everyone who walked through the checkpoint had a black collar - Intelligence operatives. He shuddered for a second. Are you ready for this game, Carsten ? -- Posted by Gatac on 12:41 pm on Dec. 5, 2003 Stardate 63012.6, Commander Danar. It's amusing. We're not doing any modifications; we're completing the ship. The more time I spent with Cranston, the more I get the feeling that this ship was built from the keel up in total ignorance of interstellar treaties, then gutted of it's vital organs to comply with them and made to work regardless. Atleast most of the crew has stayed...no offense intended against the junior officers Intelligence has seen fit to send with me, but they behave like every blinking console is a totem worthy of worship. I'm also wondering whether Captain Denning will continue his command. As far as I have been informed, he hasn't made his decision yet. "Computer, end log." Commander Roga Danar stared at the bridge's viewscreen, idly watching the nothingness of space that stretched beyond the space station. It was beautiful - yet hostile. He shivered at the cold abyss, even though he couldn't feel it. Still, people on starships often forgot how fragile their existence was - people in general forgot. Others like Danar wished that their existence were more fragile somehow. He heard the hiss of the turbolift doors; gone like a flash, he was already behind a bulkhead before the person could have seen him. He silently shuffled his position to keep himself out of sight, and eventually got a good look at the intruder without being noticed. Denning. Black collar. He had agreed. Danar sighed inwardly at relief, then approached the still unsuspecting Captain from behind, managing to stay soundless even with standard Starfleet shoes. He stopped at a respectful distance, assumed shape and raised his voice. "Good evening, Captain." Denning flipped around in momentary confusion, then saw Danar and relaxed slightly. Danar noted that the Captain had assumed a defensive stance - perhaps a good omen that he hadn't seen in many officers yet. "Captain, I am pleased to make your acquintance. I assume your uniform indicates that you decided to renew your command of the Eclipse ?" "Yes. Yes, it does. Excuse me, Commander, I thought someone had forgotten his combadge here. The internal sensors must be on the fritz again..." "Actually, the internal sensors are working as well as can be expected. I received a report from Commander Cranston saying just that not two hours ago." "Then how..." Realisation dawned on Denning's face. "I didn't know Starfleet had any Argosian soldiers employed as officers." "I'm the first. And up to now, the only. You see, Argosians would rather forget that Starfleet exists at all. In fact, they'd rather forget the very concept of military. But we soldiers - we thought that service with Starfleet was better than being locked up. Since Argosia thus fulfills it's obligations in providing manpower, all sides profit. Most of the others sign up as enlisted men, though." Denning nodded. "Are there any sensors that read you at all ?" "Not to my knowledge. We have been implanted with technology that makes us all but invisible. Starfleet has no use for sensors that are specifically tuned to defeat our countermeasures. And most of Starfleet's enemies see no use in them. After all, I'm only one." Denning nodded, this time more nervously. He'd heard stories about Angosian soldiers - there were good reasons why they were feared by the rest of their race. Most of them centered around the fact that they tended to be a bit too effective. Denning mustered a slight smile. "Is the ship ready to depart ?" "Not yet, Captain. As soon as Commander Cranston informs me that our additional equipment is ready for use, we can proceed." "I'll see you then, it seems I have a lot of reading to do." The underlying message was easy enough to read. Intelligence spooks messing up my ship...and now I'm even working for them. Danar turned back to the viewscreen as Denning disappeared into his ready room. And so, it begins... (Edited by Gatac at 11:47 pm on Dec. 5, 2003) -- Posted by Gatac on 12:39 am on Dec. 13, 2003 Stardate 63015.2, Captain Denning. We're about to disembark from Deep Space 7 to parts unknown. The crew is assembled, the ship's refit is done, and I'm crazy enough to go along with it all. It doesn't get any better than this. Denning entered the bridge from his ready room and took his place next to Commander Danar; the Angosian merely nodded to him. "Lt. Guvet, are we ready to embark onto our next journey ?" "Moorings cleared, Captain. All departments report operational readiness. And DS7 has assigned us a flight corridor for Slipstream." "Thank you, Mr. Guvet. Helm, take us out." The computer chirped in acknowledgement. "Complying." The Eclipse promptly flickered into a subspace field as the impulse drive began it's magic, accelerating to half impulse in the span of a minute. Guvet finally reported them well outside of known flight vectors from other ships or stellar objects. Denning nodded, then punched his communicator. "Ensign Fuller to the bridge." "Already half there, Captain." Ensign Fuller emerged a scant second later from the turbolift, tying her flowing brown hair into a ponytail and taking her place at the Helm. Denning felt a surge of strange comfort whenever he saw her - maybe because she was one of the few humans on board. He sighed inwardly; there were traces of subtle racism in him that even the cultural progress of nearly five centuries couldn't erase. "Captain Denning to all hands, prepare for Slipstream." This time, there was no panic. The whole shop was merely holding it's breath, waiting for the inevatible disaster and preparing to pick up the pieces. Meanwhile, Fuller listened to the sounds of the ship reconfiguring and finally got a blinking green light on her console. "We have Condition White." "Initiate." Half a minute later, the Eclipse was gone, leaving behind the end of an impulse trail. -- Posted by Gatac on 2:54 am on Dec. 23, 2003 Captain's Log, Supplemental We have reached the supplied coordinates and are in orbit around a Class O planet. Pelagic worlds such as these are suitable for humanoid life, but due to the large amount of surface covered by water, mostly home to aquatic life forms. We have been ordered to explore the planet, and are preparing the Apex for underwater operation. Denning stopped the recording, then looked over to Danar. "Did they tell you anything about why they needed us here?" "No, Captain, not officially. But my sources indicated that we have been sent here for a recovery operation. Apparently, a ship crashed somewhere in this system, or so Intelligence believes; they don't want us to know until we actually find it." "Why would they do that?" "I do not know. I presume the ship contains important technology or is otherwise vital to the interests of Intelligence." A beeping from the Ops console was shortly thereafter followed by Lt. Guvet's voice. "Captain, long range sensors detect an Ion Storm passing through this system. It will arrive in about two hours at present speed, give or take ten minutes." "How bad is it?" "Class Eight, minimum. We can try to weather it, but we would likely sustain extensive damage." "I'm aware of that. Can we speed up the planetary survey?" "Not within the required scan parameters. We're already working at 120% to get to the bottom of these oceans." "Commander Danar, what do you suggest?" The Argosian straightened himself in his uniform. "I suggest we leave this area, let the storm pass and come back later. We could use the time to examine the effect of a high-class Ion Storm on Class O planets." "Lt., how long until the storm would fade?" "The computer estimates that it will stay around the planet for at least three days, Sir. Possibly more, owing to the strong magnetic field of this world." Denning contemplated. Waiting three days doing basically nothing wasn't his style, and an Ion Storm was notoriously unpredictable - he'd read of some that stayed active for weeks, and there was a rumor that an ancient race in the Beta Quadrant had actually caught storms in magnetic bottles and towed them to their homeworld for amusement. Clearly, the delay was unacceptable. "Lt., how far down into the atmosphere will the storm reach?" "All the way to the surface, but with greatly reduced intensity." "Can we land down there?" Denning drew a few looks from the bridge crew, but Guvet made a few calculations. "Not with the annular warp drive attached. If we seperate it, it should be no problem." "Will the drive survive the storm out here?" "That should not be a problem." "Good. Commander?" "We did not detect any intelligent life in the preliminary scans. I must advise that we would be stranded until the storm fades. Other than that, I see no reason not to land." "Very well. Guvet, sound Condition Blue and prepare to seperate the warp drive." "Yes, Sir." Outside, maglocks were released, and the characteristic glow disappeared from the annular warp drive as the plasma was vented to outer space. Shortly thereafter the four connecting beams folded back, beginning to glow themselves as the auxilliary warp coils were energised. The procedure completed, the ship veered towards the planet, beginning it's descent. -- Posted by Gatac on 12:49 am on Dec. 24, 2003 The Eclipse drew a scream behind it as it entered the planet's atmosphere, decreasing it's orbit steadily. Stabilising the ship proved difficult, owing to the fact that large pockets of gas were in their way, obscuring any visual impression. Still, Fuller held the ship together, relishing the challenge. Guvet called out from the rear of the bridge. "Hull temperature stable at 1400 Kelvin. Structural Integrity holding." The ship was still bearing down at hypersonic speed, and the deep blue of the oceans below flickered by on the viewscreen like a planetary rotation on fast forward. Fuller tapped a few more buttons. "Slowing to landing velocity." Forcefields unfolded around the hull, giving the ship an invisible aerodynamic shape. The fields shifted against each other, and became minutely visible as th friction heat made them glow, giving the impression that the Eclipse was surrounded by fire. Eventually, the heat faded away, and the ship hovered over the water at an almost leisurely pace. "Minimum stable airspeed reached. Current altitude 500 meters over the surface. No further atmospheric irregularities detected." "Acknowledged, Ensign. Begin landing procedure." "Roger that, Captain." Gently, the Eclipse slowed to a crawl, and finally came to a stop, descending upon the surface. With nary a splash, the ship landed in the water, submerging up to the leading edge of the primary hull, then floating. Fuller smiled as she gave her report. "We're safe, Captain." "Good work, Ensign. Lt. Guvet, commence scanning at once. Commander, I want an examination of the gas pockets. You have an hour for scans." "I'll assemble a team at once." Danar rose from his seat, walking to the turbolift with a purposefull stride. Denning looked around the bridge until his eyes rested upon Rodan. "Commander, how do you evaluate our tactical situation?" "Unfavorable. We will be unable to retreat from any combat, and have very limited manoverability in this atmosphere, if we take the chance of flying within the storm." "Suggestions?" "The ion storm will likely hold off any spaceborne agressor, but we need to consider the possibility that there may be dangerous aquatic life present." "Agreed. Draw up a few defensive strategies." Denning turned away from the Kzin and tapped his combadge. "Denning to Cranston." "Commander Cranston here. What's the situation, Captain?" "Commander, can we submerge the Eclipse?" There was silence for a few seconds. "Pardon me, I thought you said you wanted to submerge the ship." "That's what I said." "I can not recommend that in the least, Captain. We have very little data about operations of our systems underwater. We would need to adapt our impulse drive, find a way to regulate our depth and to navigate down there, not to talk of the operation of sensors or weapons." "But can it be done?" "Yes, Captain. It can be done. I just would prefer not to push our luck." "I want an engineering team to work out the specifics. We might need to submerge the vessel in a number of situations." There was a sigh on the other end of the line. "We'll look into it." "Can we operate any auxilliary vessels when submerged?" "The Apex will be able to operate somewhat normally, but we can not extend the hull to conformal shape. We will also have to flood the shuttlebay if we want to use it; the forcefields are not designed to withstand much more than the inner atmospheric pressure. We *might* be able to reinforce them for operations up to a depth of about 100 meters, but everything below that will be impossible." "Thank you, Commander, that will be all. Denning out." Denning went back to his chair and looked at the viewscreen, looking at the images of a lush, watery paradise stretching before him. It's a pity we just had our shore leave. -- Posted by Gatac on 1:35 pm on Dec. 29, 2003 "Lt. Guvet, you're with me. Commander Danar, you have the bridge." The Cardassian officer followed Denning to the turbolift; they entered, and Denning ordered the cabin to proceed to the Captain's Yacht. The Lt. stared about uncomfortably, then raised his voice. "Captain, where are we going?" "Our orders were very detailed. Let's pretend I know what I'm doing." "Yes, Sir." "Lieutenant?" "Sir?" "Your file states that you have experience with exosuit operations in deep sea." "I have been certified for HEV Level 5. If there's a suit designed to withstand it, I can operate in it." "Good. Actually, Lieutenant, your file claims that you have experience with a lot of different environments. How come?" Guvet smiled. "My former Captain didn't like me too much. I got the jobs nobody else would touch. Every time we had a port call, I'd get a notice saying that my experience qualified me for another certificate, and so on." "Got off on the wrong foot with him?" "His wife was a junior officer on the Odyssee. He had an understandable dislike of Cardassians." "And you never reported him?" "Why should I? He was a fine Captain, and I think I did get to him in the end." Denning shrugged. "I'd have spoken up." "Sir?" "Forget it." Guvet stared ahead blankly for a second, but chose not to comment on it any further. The turbolift stopped soon thereafter, and the two officers stepped onto the bridge of the Yacht. A couple of Ensigns floated around; Denning recognised one of them as Sirok; the Vulcan was bossing the others around, having them reconfigure the systems. He noted the Captain's entrance - barely. "Good evening, Sir. We'll be ready in a minute." "Is the suit on board?" "We have propped everything up in the cargo bay. We will have to use the transporters for deployment, since we are not currently equipped with an airlock of sufficent structural strength to operate in any meaningful depth." "But I take it you're working on it?" "Indeed, Captain. Modifications will be completed within the hour." "Good. Who's at the Helm?" One of the Ensigns poked his head out from under a console and raised his hand. "That would be me, Captain." "Are we ready to depart?" "Not quite yet. It'll take a few minutes." Denning looked over to Sirok, whose face wore the Vulcan equivalent of "I didn't do it." For the sake of harmony, Denning chose to stay calm. "What's the hold-up?" "Unlike what Sirok would have you believe, Sir, the modifications are not complete. We're trying to track down a few bugs with the weapons. Photon tracking is non-existant, for starters. No matter what the geeks told you, this ship isn't designed for underwater ops." "Watch your tone, Ensign." Denning motioned for Sirok to be quiet. "So we're without weapons?" "No, Captain. The phasers are fine, and the photons are dumb-fire only. But since we haven't run any tests yet, I can't guarantee for either. Just because they work fine now..." "Are other systems compromised?" "No, Sir. Shields and SIF are working fine. We just might find ourselves with no teeth." "Can you work on it once we're underway?" "I suppose, if we switch the systems off completely. Though that would leave us with no tactical capability." "That's a risk we're taking. Take us out, Ensign." The man ceased protesting, climbed into his chair and booted the console. "Yes, Sir." Sirok bowed to Denning. "Sir, this is one of Commander Cranston's men. He's been causing trouble since we got here." "It wasn't too serious." "Captain, your trait of general leniency nonewithstanding..." "Ensign Sirok..." "Yes?" "If I say that it wasn't a cause for concern, then it's not, understood?" "Yes, Sir. I understand perfectly." Sirok went back to his place at one of the multi-function stations, seeming irritated. Denning looked after him a few seconds, then focussed his attention on the viewscreen. A few hours and we're already at each other's throats again. That shore leave solved nothing. "Denning to Bridge, request permission to undock the Apex." "Bridge to captain Denning, permission granted. Proceed at will." "You heard him, Ensign. Take us out." "Roger that." A stream of bubbles escaped from the seperation plane as the Apex uncoupled from it's mothership, leaving the utilitarian secondary hull layer behind. Light emanated from the Yacht's impulse emission pads; with a jolt, the craft launched forward, diving into the deep of the unknown ocean. -- Posted by Gatac on 10:49 am on Jan. 27, 2004 The Ensign at the Apex's helm - Trussell, as Denning had managed to gleam from the conversation - steered the craft further downward into the ocean. Sensors showed nothing of consequence; the readings taken of a few maritime lifeforms would surely be of interest to the xenobiology department of the Eclipse, but as of now, they were in no rush to establish communications. However, that was about to change. A beeping from multifunctional station 2 - configured for Science - rattled Denning back into reality as Sirok shot off new data. "We are reading an artificial structure 60.58 kilometers ahead. Sensors are unable to ascertain what's inside of it, but exterior dimensions make it likely that it is either an underwater habitat or a large submersible craft." "Why didn't we see that from orbit?" "Cause unknown. Seeing how it just appeared on our sensors, logic suggests that we have crossed some sort of defensive perimeter..." The ship shook, and the klaxons confirmed what Denning thought - an attack. "Red Alert! Status?" Guvet called out from tactical. "Shields at 94%. No target. I'm attempting to remodulate our shields." "Sirok?" "I am analysing the firing vectors." Another hit, this time noteably less severe. "New modulation is effective. Shields at 98% and charging." "Still nothing, Captain." "Helm, evasive manovers." The Apex rolled onto it's back, narrowly avoiding another hit as a faint greenish beam shot by, leaving behind a tunnel of hot water vapor. Sirok's console beeped as the computer finally triangulated the enemy's position. "Relaying data to Tactical." Guvet nodded. "Got it." "Sirok, can you get a sensor reading of the target?" "Still negative, Captain. It appears that the target is using a Reman-style cloak, but staying immobile." "Weapon status?" Guvet tapped a few more buttons; he smiled at the reaffirming chirp from his console. "Phasers are back online." "Good. Fire a warning shot, minimum power. Just let them know we've found them." From the ventral array, a crimson lance of energy shot out, struck the cloaked target, and promptly shorted out it's cloaking field. From behind it, a rather primitive-looking weapons platform appeared. On the Apex's bridge, Sirok checked the new data with some concern. "Sensor data indicates a surplus Romulan border defense drone, Mark 7. Although it appears to be lacking a shielding system." "Excuse me?" "No shields. Still, our phaser beam did not damage it. The cloak was shut down." As if in response to an unspoken question, a craft decloaked in front of the Apex. Sirok eyed his console. "Captain, we are being hailed." "Put it on screen." A vaguely humanoid face appeared on screen, offering a few incomprehensible words before the universal translator kicked in. Denning's counterpart was obviously the product of a low-gravity environment, his body spindly and frail-looking. "...sorry for the attack. Our drones are programmed to destroy floating junk, but their software still has a few quirks." "Nobody was hurt." "I am happy to hear that. I am Thuil, of the Innari." "I am Captain Carsten Denning, of the Federation Starship Eclipse." "Then, on behalf of all the Innari on Hive World 93, allow me to welcome you, Captain Denning. If you will please follow our ship, we will escort you to our settlement." With that, the communication link was cut, and Trussell raised his voice. "Lay in a pursuit course?" "Yes, Ensign. Follow them." Denning stared at the viewscreen and the dark water in front of him. Hard to believe that Intelligence didn't know about these people - so why weren't they mentioned? -- Posted by Gatac on 12:17 pm on May 15, 2004 About fifteen minutes and slight confusion due to incompatible docking collars later, Captain Denning finally set foot onto the soil of the habitat per transporter and at once began to regret it. The gravity was only about a third of Federation standard (which, in itself, was quite close to surface gravity on Earth, if slightly on the high side, and still less than what was common on Federation starships), and Denning felt distinctly unwell. Lieutenant Guvet seemed to have no such problems; he had enough experience with zero- and low-g environments to move effectively. Still, it was probably the better solution for the time being; the Innari didn't look like they could survive, let alone comfortably move in anything more than half a g. And neither Thuil nor any of his staff seemed to bring up Denning's less than expertly movements at the table; for somebody like Denning who was used to negotiating with Ferengi, a bit of maturity during negotiations was always welcome. Thuil waited for everyone to be seated (which led Guvet to discover that Innari spines must follow a different curvature, prompting him to aboid resting his back against the chair), then opened the talks. "Allow me welcome you again, Captain. I really must apologise for the deception, but we Innari prefer solitude." "There is nothing to apologise for, Ambassador Thuil. It's not every day we see Romulan border droids deployed on supposedly uncolonised planets, though." Thuil seemed thoughtful for a second. "Ambassador...I am afraid I do not understand this term." "I'm sorry for confusing you, Sir...I was not aware of another title to address you with." "The use of...titles...is not common among my people." "Hm. Thuil is it, then?" "Yes, Denning. May I ask who is accompanying you?" "Oh, forgive me. This is Lt. Guvet, one of my bridge officers." Thuil bowed his head to the Cardassian. "We are honored by your presence, Guvet." "Yes, thank you, Thuil." Guvet seemed to blush a bit - first contact never was his forte -, but Captain Denning cut in before the situation could become more ackward. "Thuil, we are here because we want to explore your world." "You are certainly free to do so. We would just prefer if you could avoid our colony." "We will take that into account. However, I would like to ask you if you are interested in Federation membership." "I do not understand. What is the Federation?" Denning sighed, then launched into his canned speech. "The United Federation of Planets is an interstellar body comprised of 160 members, stretching over nearly ten thousand lightyears of space within the Alpha and Beta quadrants. It is dedicated to peaceful coexistence, scientific progress and exploration." Thuil seemed to contemplate that for a second, but finally shook his head. "We are not interested. We do not engage in interstellar diplomacy." Denning shrugged. "We are not a press gang. If you ever change your opinion, the Federation will be waiting. Now, if you could provide us with a map of your settlement, we'll take care to avoid it." Thuil seemed to sink into unconsciousness for a second, his face returning to a blank expression after showing brief amusement at the idea of a multi-species alliance of such vast scope as the Federation. Then, with what Denning noted with faint alarm was a completely different voice, he went on. "We are the Innari. Welcome, Captain Denning." -- Posted by Gatac on 7:30 am on June 17, 2004 On the Eclipse's bridge, Commander Danar had to make a conscious effort not to slouch into his chair. There was only so much to do on a ship with most of it's major systems shut down, and while the viewscreen's calm image of a nearly endless ocean contrasted with the approaching ion storm was pleasing to look at, boredom had it's way of wearing down enthusiasm for work. The rest of the bridge crew seemed to share that sentiment; the silence where a more familar crew might have engaged in idle conversation to pass the time was telling, and Danar sighed inwardly. Starfleet liked to boast of it's frontier activities, but as was the case with any navy, most of the actual work was rather tedious. Danar briefly pondered whether he should just sound for reduced crew duty, seeing how they appeared to be going nowhere, but the sudden beeping from a console behind him snapped his thoughts back into proper focus. "Mr. Rodan, report." "Tactical sensors are picking up something approaching orbit. It's movements would suggest that it's a ship entering orbit, but I can't tell you anything more without bringing the main sensors back online. That would take a few minutes." "Do it." On the viewscreen, a sudden burst of vapor appeared near the horizon, then another and another followed it, each closer to the Eclipse. Danar didn't need to guess about obscure physical phenomena - his gut instincts already told him that these were the results of weapon impacts. "Red alert! Raise shields and power weapons!" At once, the bridge's rather cheerful lighting switched to a more subdued illumination with a distinct reddish tint to it, and klaxons blared across the ship. Behind the Commander, Rodan frantically worked the tactical console. "Shields are up, but we're running off reserves. No weapons." Simultanously, Commander Cranston's voice travelled through the comm system. "Cranston to Bridge. What in tarnation's going on there?" Danar barked a few more orders to the helm, then turned his attention to the communication. "We're under attack, Mr. Cranston." "Well, that's a tiny bit inconvenient, seeing how we shut down the warp core for some preventive maintenance." "What can you give me?" "We're bringing fusion reactors up now, but main power is down for ten minutes, give or take a few seconds. And believe me, Commander, we've got everyone and their grandmother working on it, so anything less than that is very unlikely." "I need options, Mr. Cranston." Rodan coughed politely. "Excuse me, Commander Danar, but the sensors show that the weapon impacts will reach us in about 2 minutes if it continues following it's current pattern. Also, the enemy weapon seems to be greatly impeded by the water." Danar turned to the helm. "Ensign Fuller, how long to a Condition Blue?" "About 4 minutes. The thrusters are still venting water. We're not going to fly this one out, Sir." Danar pondered the situation. Sitting here with shields on reserve power waiting to be pounded into submission by orbital bombardment was definately not an option, but without working thrusters, escaping from the attack was extremely unlikely. Unless... "Computer, are the hallways on decks 5 to 7 empty?" "Affirmative." "Erect emergency forcefields for all rooms with crew inside, then seal off these decks." "Acknowledged. Decks five, six and seven secured." Rodan blinked nervously. "Commander, I'm not sure if this is a good idea..." "I'm open to suggestions." Rodan didn't answer; instead, he looked down at his console. "Impact predicted in one minute. Either now or never, Sir." Danar nodded, then shifted his view back to the screen. "Computer, open all airlocks on decks 5 to 7." "Warning: Foreign atmosphere detected. Procedure not recommended." "Security override, Danar-9-4-3-Beta." "Confirmed." ----------------- With a terrible rushing noise, the air bubbled out of the open exterior airlocks while water rushed to fill the hallways of the Eclipse. With the impacts steadily approaching it's position, the mighty ship slowly sank below the surface, venting its atmosphere from three decks. ------------------ On the bridge, Ensign Fuller examined the readings of her navigational interface. "We're not sinking fast enough, Commander." Danar wore a grim expression on his face and turned to the computer interface on his chair once more. "Computer, flood all lower decks without personnel." "Affirmative." Now visible on the viewscreen, the Eclipse vented more precious air, distancing itself from the ocean's surface. A final weapon beam shot into the water above the ship, but only vaporised water; the starship was already too deep to be affected by the impact. Rodan nearly wanted to cheer, but thought it inappropriate, especially since their problem was far from solved. Danar seemed to be relatively calm, though, so perhaps he was already planning a cunning exit strategy with suitable punishment for the unwarranted attack on a Federation ship. The Kzin smiled at that thought; perhaps he would yet be able to have some fun outside of the holodeck. "Firing seems to have ceased. Apparently, they are unable to project a beam powerful enough to penetrate the water above." Rodan breathed a short sigh of relief. "Good thing they don't have phasers." Danar nodded. "Could you get a scan of them?" "No, Sir. Sensors are still on hold because of the energy drain from the forcefields." "I see. Ensign Fuller, can you stabilize our descent?" "I'm working on it, Commander, but the thrusters are not designed for this. We're going to need more power for them." "Indeed. Bridge to Engineering; how's she faring, Mr. Cranston?" "Looking good, but we shouldn't wait until we rest on the bottom of this pond. You'll have Impulse power in a second; warp's going to take some more time, we blew a plasma coupler and there's three decks full of water between us and the next spare." "Can you rig the transporter for inter-ship transfer?" "I'll work on it once we've made sure that we're not going to find out the crush depth of this ship, but don't expect fast results; we'll need to run a Level 2 diagnostic on the EPS systems before I can even think of doing anything else." "Did we get a hit while I wasn't paying attention?" There was a short sigh on the other end of the line. "Commander, if you could look at Engineering right now, you would agree. You told us to bring things online. We did what we could, we pokered, and we almost lost. We've got 40 meters of emergency EPS redistribution tubing running all over the floor, and any of the segments could blow up if I look at them funny. I can't in good conscience leave things running like that." "Understood, Mr. Cranston. Do your best and inform me of any progress you make." "I will." Danar closed the comm channel and looked over to Ensign Fuller, who had stopped struggling with the console. "We're holding steady at 200 meters, Commander, but we've got thrusters running at 130%. They're not going to agree with that for long." "I'm aware of that." The Commander turned to the Ops station, where a rather nondescript Lieutenant had taken Guvet's place. "Lt., run a simulation on how much flooded volume we require to keep stable at this depth." "Sir!" Tapping a few buttons, the young officer prompted the computer to start it's calculations while Danar stared expectantly. The Lt. noticed; he briefly recoiled, a single bead of sweat running down from his cheek. "It's going to take a few minutes, Sir." "Good." Danar turned back to face the viewscreen while the bridge around him was frozen in anticipation, waiting for the next disaster. All in all, Danar surmised, adventure was severely overrated. -- Posted by Gatac on 1:08 pm on June 26, 2004 Meanwhile, at the Innari colony... Denning had learned a few things in the Dominion War. Most of what he'd learned dealt with ground combat tactics, courtesy of three months at an outpost where the Jem'Hadar really didn't care that he was an officer. Neither did anyone else; Denning could hold a phaser rifle, and since Starfleet was still in it's "Run around like a headless chicken" phase of the war, it took some time for a fresh detachment of Marines to arrive and secure the outpost. One thing Denning had noted that Jem'Hadar would sometimes beam right onto the battlefield, then "shroud" at once, making them invisible until they decided to strike. So, upon hearing the telltale whine of the annular confinement beams resulting from a transport and seeing the sparks in front of him, Denning vaulted over the conference table, drawing his fist back for a quick strike should it prove to be a fitting action. The figure that materialised out of the beam was a Kzin in standard, no-frills privateer clothing. Denning let his fist fly and placed it firmly on the snout of the felinoid; the intruder stumbled back, dropping his laser rifle and falling to the floor in what looked like a sudden bout of unconsciousness. Denning landed behind him, rolling a bit ackwardly in the low gravity, while Guvet followed with a more modest jump, snatching up the intruder's rifle. Denning decided not to take a chance; he freed his Type 2 phaser from it's belt holster and gave the felinoid the benefit of a Heavy Stun setting. Having succesfully pacified the attacker, Denning looked around at the blank faces of the Innari. "It's alright. He's just stunned." When more silence followed, he added "Trust me, it's better this way. That uniform shows he's an unaligned privateer. The worst kind of Kzin you could meet." Guvet coughed. "Actually, Captain, the correct name of this species is Tzenkethi." Denning stared at Guvet. "As I was saying, if we've got Kzin around here, we're going to have a problem." Thuil raised his voice, but Denning cocked his head around reflexively - mainly because he could've sworn that Thuil had previously stood somewhere else, but then, the Innari weren't exactly very distinguishable from one another. "Will they seek to harm our colony?" "They're not here for your hospitality, that much is sure." The Innaris' blank stares suggested to Denning that they were either unfamiliar with the concept of sarcasm or found it so deplorable that they chose not to display any reaction to it. Ever optimistic, he decided that the first option was more likely. "Ambassador, you should place your colony on alert. There are probably more intruders." "We appreciate your concern, but there is nothing to be archieved this way. We do not stock weapons here." "No weapons? At all?" "Aside from the border control drones, no. We Innari do not condone violence. Anyone who is sufficently advanced to find us will have no need for violence against us. We do not have much to steal or plunder." "Yes, but that won't stop the Kzinti from trying." "We will not oppose your attempts to stop these Tzenkethi, provided that you avoid unnecessary bloodshed." "Don't worry, Ambassador. Can you keep this one subdued?" "We shall...take care of it." Denning nodded to the Innari leader, then looked over to Guvet, who - after fiddling with the laser rifle and slinging it away for later use - had drawn his own phaser and aimed it at the door. "Good. Lieutenant, phaser on medium stun, light dispersement pattern." "Already set, Captain." Denning nodded and inched towards the door, which in turn opened into an empty hallway. The muffled sounds of Kzin trying to move around in the low gravity could be heard not too far away. Guvet followed behind, wishing that he'd brought a Type 3 rifle, or that those backward Tzenkethi atleast had a stun setting on their weapons. Even though even a Type 1 palm phaser was a very dangerous weapon, there was a certain solidity to a rifle that lent itself to a more relaxed mindset - and in case of a dampening field, you could use it as a club. Unless fate had decided to give you one of the several hundred faulty rifles stocked upon, amongst others, the flagship Enterprise herself - and even they had some utility, even if it was only once. Guvet was pretty sure that none of those had sneaked into the Eclipse's armory, because Rodan was just the kind of person who'd actually take each rifle and bash a few holograms over the head with it just to see if they could take it. He was, after all, a Kzin. Speaking of which, just what exactly where the Kzin doing here? Guvet shelved the question for later. -- Posted by Gatac on 1:50 am on Sep. 13, 2004 Finding the Kzin privateers, Captain Denning mused, wasn't all too difficult. Subduing them was a different proposition. Crouched behind a corner, the Captain sat, his Type II "cobrahead" phaser set to heavy stun. The Dominion War had taught him that lethal force was sometimes required, but not setting his weapon to kill had been a simple reaction of common sense - he didn't know what the hallways of the Innari colony were made of, and he didn't wish to risk a rupture. The Kzin, however, didn't bother with such details; their laser fire rained down the hallway, and Denning flinched as he saw a stray bolt strike the forcefield over one of the large exterior windows. Eventually, the firing stopped, and he saw a few Kzin charging down the hallway through a reflection on the wall opposite to himself. The Starfleet officer knew that he would have a hard time, but his chances had just improved a bit; the Kzin would not fire their weapons at such a close range with their comrades in the line of fire. Jumping out from behind cover, Denning squeezed off a few shots from his phaser, putting down three Kzin and slowing one; two were still heading for him, their laser rifles discarded in favor of traditional hunting knives. The first slash cost him his phaser, but the Kzin his balance; Denning shifted his weight out of the way, leading the warrior to fall down. The Captain followed with a kick below the ribs; the seconds he bought here would have to be enough to subdue the second in a more permanent manner. Starfleet hand-to-hand combat was, at best, a blending of different styles from all over the Galaxy, and at worst a disconnected bunch of techniques nobody seriously pursued. Denning, like many other Dominion War officers and Marine soldiers, had spent quite bit of time on making it the former. Human martial arts were still the essential basis, as they were not only the most numerous of the Federation's members, but also not dependant on anatomical peculiarities that required a specific species to take advantage of. Of course, this basic reportoire of Gong Fu and Judo had been reinforced with Vulcan, Andorian and, more recently, even Klingon forms - A'sum'i and Mok'Bara dojos were something of a fad. Still, it remained a bit obscure and underused, to the extent that many hostile species - among them the Tzenkethi - did not know that there was such a thing as Federation hand-to-hand combat. Denning was glad to of service instructing the charging Kzin of this facet. The feline warrior came in too fast, trusting his knife to do the work; Denning slipped to the side of the attack, propelling the assailant to the ground with a trip. The Kzin still groggy, Carsten grabbed a nearby knife and slammed it's handle below the Tzenkethi's chin. The reaction he got was unexpected; the Kzin revitalised almost at once, throwing the Captain off and picking himself off the ground. As Denning found himself sprawled on the floor, he looked up to find an angry Kzin, brandishing a knife, and...collapsing, a hand having appeared from behind and pinched his neck. As the privateer finally tumbled down, he cleared the way for Ensign Sirok to step up to the Captain and help him up. "A most impressive display of combat prowess, Captain, but the Tzenkethi do not have a nerve cluster at the spot you struck. A peculiarity of their physiology." "What can I say? It works on Jem'Hadar." "Evidently. I have armed the Apex's crew and given orders to secure the colony. We were unable to contact either you or the Eclipse due to a concerted jamming effort by the Tzenkethi scout ship that carried these privateers. I decided that we should assist you." "Good call, Ensign." "Thank you, Captain. Mr. Trussell also suggested I bring along what he called a 'CARE package'." Sirok unslung a Type III phaser rifle and a backpack; a short inspection of the latter revealed half a dozen photon grenades set for stun. "Obscure terran vocabulary?" "Indeed, Ensign. Have you found the Innari yet?" "We have secured everybody our sensors could locate in the conference room you transported to. The Tzenkethi appear to have sensor scramblers, so we do not know how many boarded, but judging from the size of their transport and the number of privateers we have already subdued and arrested, as much as half a dozen of them could still be mobile." Denning shouldered the backpack and began to bring the phaser rifle to firing condition. "You can go back to the defensive perimeter. I'll head for the Kzin transport and try to disable it." "Captain, I must advise against that kind of action. A security detail can take care of the transport once we have secured the colony." "That may be too late." The rifle came to life, the light humming of it's pre-fire chamber permeating the room until the short power-up sequence had ended. As Denning walked off, he heard footsteps behind him, and Sirok appeared at his side, brandishing his backup Type II phaser pistol. "Why are you coming with me, Ensign?" "General Order Fifteen requires a flag officer to have an armed escort in hostile territory." "That only applies to insertion by transporter." "I am unaware of that specific clause. I shall have to refamiliarise myself with the text of the General Order once we have returned to the Eclipse." Just then, Denning swore that he saw something like a smile creep over the Vulcan's face. -- Posted by Gatac on 1:10 am on Sep. 18, 2004 The Tzenkethi transport had not used one of the Innari colony's airlocks. That would have been tactically unsound, seeing how hostile territory had the tendency to have hostile technology, too. Instead, they had anchored their vehicle to an outside wall and cut a hole into it for access. Of course, as soon as their transport were to leave, the whole segment of the colony would flood. To the Tzenkethi, this was merely collateral damage (which they cared little about), but to a Starfleet captain with a charged phaser rifle, it was an open invitation to do his best to stop them from just fading. Now that Denning was properly armed and backed up by a competent fighter, his technological and tactical edge over the numerically superior privateers was beginning to tip the scales. Another burst of phaser pulses screamed downrange, all three impacting one of the felinoids. At a heavy stun setting, three hits could cause serious damage to the nervous system of the target, but Carsten Denning's mind was not concerned about the immediate wellbeing of his opponents. Now that he had the upper hand, he was more than intent on closing the deal before the pirates could regroup. One of the privateers, his laser pistol exhausted, sought victory in melee. Denning had no time for fancy moves this time; he twirled his rifle around and gave the attacker a faceful of rifle stock. Ensign Sirok, his Type II nearly depleted from supressive fire, gave the stunned attacker a dose of medium stun, just for safety's sake. As the Captain advanced further, he caught a glimpse of the transport's controls - and the Tzenkethi operating them, frantically pushing buttons. Denning had no experience with Tzenkethi transport ships, but he recognised a pre-start sequence when he saw one; dropping down to one knee, he raised his rifle, reconfigured for beam, and sighted down the holographic projection of crosshairs, reflexively finding the Kzin's head and pulling the trigger. The beam struck true, downing the privateer pilot. Smirking, he turned to the Vulcan behind him and handed him his rifle. "Ensign, you cover the transport's entrance. Shoot everything that moves." The Vulcan grabbed and readied the rifle with the focussed, deliberate movements one had come to expect from their species; no muscle wasted, no energy spoiled, all down to effectiveness and logic. As he raised the rifle for snap shots, Denning kneeled down again, unslung the backpack, and pulled out two photon grenades. "Set for stun, right, Ensign?" "Yes, Sir." Denning weighed the projectiles in his hands. "Lucky me. Here I am with the grenades, and my fire support is the only guy on the ship who doesn't have to cover his eyes from the flash." "In my opinion, Sir, this is nothing but a coincidence." "But a lucky coincidence." "A beneficial one, Sir." Denning cut the conversation short and tossed the grenades down the hallway. Two bright flashes later, the combat was over. With every Tzenkethi subdued (though some a bit more thoroughly than others), Captain Denning and Ensign Sirok were free to examine the transport vessel. Like every other design of the Tzenkethi the Federation had on file, it was utilitarian, far behin the curve of Federation technology, and just generally what one would rightfully label garbage were it not for the coincidence that it worked. This one, however, showed a bit more sophistication; a single device was bolted to the floor in the middle of the craft, looking incredibly more advanced than anything around it. While Denning marvelled at the complexity of the construct, Sirok merely pulled out a tricorder and began to scan the device. The output of his tool was atleast enough for Sirok to raise an eyebrow. "Captain, if these readings are correct, this is a wide-area sensor scrambler. It does not look like normal Tzenkethi technology." "That much is clear. Can you tell me where it came from?" "The general appearance would indicate a Romulan device." "Romulan?" "Of an obsolete design. It contains components that the Romulan Navy stopped using about seventy years ago." "So it's from the age of the Tomed incident?" "Or older." Denning nodded thoughtfully, then tapped his combadge. "Denning to Eclipse. What's your status?" "Trussell here, Sir. We're holding position and beaming the prisoners aboard. Oh, by the way, Commander Danar wants to speak to you." "Relay, please." "Yes, Sir." There was a short beep that signalled a switch of comm signals before the Angosian's deep voice filled the channel. "Captain?" "I'm fine, Commander. How's my ship?" "We're submerged for the moment, but closing on your position. We've had slight trouble with an unidentified attacker, but she's holding together." "Unidentified?" "We were in the middle of preventive maintenance when they attacked. We barely had time to get out of the way. Fortunately, they only had lasers." "Kzin." "As said, we couldn't get a sweep of the sip, but it seems likely. Now, the Tzenkethi have been aggressive for as long as we've had contact with them, but openly attacking a Federation starship and raiding a foreign colony with no appreciable natural resources? It doesn't add up." "I was thinking just the same, Commander. Are they still in orbit?" "We're getting a reading from them. They're up there." "Reunite the ship and transport us aboard. If they want to rattle sabers a bit, I'll be happy to oblige them." Danar's smile was audible over the commlink. "Yes, Sir. Stand by for transport." The tingling sensation in Denning's body mixed with the adrenaline in his veins for a dangerous cocktail. As he began his light-speed journey back to his ship, Captain Denning prepared himself for another fight. -- Posted by Gatac on 9:45 am on Sep. 24, 2004 A few minutes later, Captain Denning stepped ontothe bridge of his ship and took notice of the slightly orange tint everything was cast in; yellow alert, obviously. His eyes wandered a bit more, spotting Commander Danar having an animated talk with Rodan; the Tzenkethi's neck hairs were working their way out of the variant Starfleet uniform. (Type 4-B, felinoid, size 5 - Denning recalled memorising that fact which was one of the few interesting facts in Rodan's personal file.) Denning figured that in five seconds or less, Rodan would either smile or attempt to strangle the ship's First Officer. Fortunately for the chain of command, the former happened; Rodan merrily hammered away at the tactical console while Danar took notice of Dennings arrival. "Status, Commander?" "Clawing our way back to the top. Main power is up and running at eighty percent, shields and weapons are fully operational. There's some damage to non-tactical systems from energy surges, but nothing that's going to get in our way for the next few hours. We can begin the ascent at your command." "Best news I've heard all day. Good work." Nodding for the Commander to follow him, Denning made his way to the Captain's chair, sat down and activated the console in his armrest. "Captain to all hands, assume battlestations. Department heads, report operational readiness to the bridge." The order did not come unexpected; confirmations began to come in almost instantly. Lt. Guvet - in a fresh change of uniform - reached his console just in time to report that the shipwide call of battlestations had been completed. Denning smiled grimly. Time for a show of force. "Red alert." Almost at once, Commander Danar began barking additional orders. "Shields up! Arm weapons and torpedoes!" Rodan's voice came from behind, spiked with adrenaline. "Shields and weapons online. We're live." "Ensign Fuller, takes us up, full thrust, and vent the flooded areas." "Yes, Sir." Fuller began to work her console, her fingers gliding over the various sections of the touchscreen interface with months of muscle memory guiding them. As her seat began to tilt backwards and the holographic strategic interface initialised, she began to consider the possibility that despite their superior technology, the Eclipse could still lose if the Tzenkethi privateers played their cards right. She'd just have to be faster. Momentarily, the large ship burst through the ocean's surface like a submarine of old, but instead of coming to a rest on the surface, it boosted further upwards, still gaining speed as it freed itself from the liquid medium. As the cruiser gained altitude, more laser beams began to rain down from the sky, some harmlessly bouncing off the shields, others missing altogether. Then, in what could only be called a freak encounter of chance, a single green bolt lanced out and crashed against the Eclipse, rocking the ship substantially. On the bridge, Captain Denning was still trying to figure out just what had happened when Rodan called out from behind. "Shields at 83% ! That was...a disruptor." "How can a single disruptor hit do so much damage?" Guvet piped up, trying to make sense of the readings on his console. "Sensor logs show that it was almost completely in phase with our shielding, Captain. In fact, I think that would've blown clean through our shields if we hadn't patched them up down there." Rodan stared at the viewscreen and the small Kzin privateer ship in disbelief. "How could they have found out our shield frequency?" "I don't care how they did it," Denning stated matter of factly. "Just give them a good reason not to try it again." The next disruptor bolt followed, but this time, Fuller saw it coming; banking the ship to the right, the attack passed right by the Eclipse.  At the same moment, a single sphere of white light shot from the Eclipse's bow; the torpedo slightly adjusted it's flight path on the way, hitting the Tzenkethi ship - and creating a peculiar distortion pattern on it's now visible shields. As everybody on the bridge realised what had happened, Rodan fired off a few bursts of phaser energy from the ventral arrays, squarely hitting the privateer and collapsing it's shields. Denning's smile was short-lived, however; before his eyes, he saw the small ship go up in flames. "They self-destructed, Sir," said Guvet, his voice not entirely under control. "We're also picking up...twenty-five other ships heading for us from a multitude of vectors." "They tried their trick, and it didn't work. Now they're going for herding." Rodan made a snarling noise. "I really have to hand it to our privateeers - when they show up in force, they show up in force." Denning called up a holographic tactical display, not entiurely pleased with the way this had turned out. "I need options, people." "Transwarp and Slipstream are out," Daran said. "We can't warp past them with the ion storm nearby messing with out sensor accuracy." "A better mousetrap..." "Sir?" "This isn't improvised privateer behavior. They were waiting for us. I guess the ion storm is affecting their long-range sensors, too?" "Yes, of course." Guvet swallowed. "Of course, we're not exactly sure what kind of sensors they have, but unless it's totally experimental and top-secret, all they're seeing is us, and that barely." Denning nodded, then began to type a series of numbers into his armrest. A few seconds later, the computer's voice piped up. "Please confirm with voice profile." "Captain Carsten Denning, USS Eclipse." "Positive identification. Standing by for Tactical Equipment Beta." There was a short hush on the bridge as the computer uttered it's words without emotion; a few seconds of silence passed while Denning looked around. "I'm about to violate interstellar law. Please note any objections you may have and present them to me later." Still receiving no contrary words, Denning nodded. "Activate Tactical Equipment Beta." Deep in the bowels of the ship, there was a crawlspace at the intersection of two Jeffries tubes that was a bit peculiar. Several major EPS lines ran through it and met in the middle, in a pedestal with a power adapter that bore no resemblance to any standardized Federation tap. The absolute peak of strangeness however was the specialised replicator system installed here, with no patterns programmed into it - atleast, none that were obvious. In the blueprints, the intersection had been marked as an upgrade-only feature, an adaptive sensor system for specialised mission equipment. To date, no actual equipment for use in this mount was planned; indeed, the entire intersection was probably one of those dead features that would either make total sense or be completely scrapped in the next refit - or atleast, that's what any impartial observer would have concluded after intense scrutinity. However, despite all evidence to the contrary saying that it should, indeed could not happen, this gadget came to life, and a strange object began to take shape on the pedestal. From one second to another, the Eclipse vanished in the telltale distortion of a cloaking device. -- Posted by Gatac on 8:55 am on Sep. 27, 2004 Captain's Log, Supplemental We have succesfully evaded pursuit by renegade Tzenkethi. A fleet of some 26 privateer ships has gathered around the planet and instituted an orbital blockade. The disruptor hit from one of these ships has destabilized our entire shield system. While repairs continue, I have asked Lt. Commander Rodan to perform a security sweep of our systems. Still, the question remains - just what are the Tzenkethi looking for? Denning entered the bridge looking a bit worse for wear; lying under cloak for hours at a time, waiting for the enemy to make a move, was clearly not the kind of combat he enjoyed. There was a certain element of brutal clarity to it, knowing that his ship was terribly outgunned by those uprated Tzenkethi ships. The kind of cat and mouse games akin to the old days of interstellar combat was something he had little experience with. Commander Danar, on the other hand, seemed to thrive on it, showing no sign of tiring despite being quite a bit overdue for shift change. "Anything, Commander?" "They're still holding their positions, Captain. No transporters, no other submersible craft." "Perhaps they don't have any means of going down to the colony. We immobilised their craft, aftter all," Guvet said. "Or they know we're here and are just waiting for us to make a move," Rodan replied, looking a bit more worried by the minute. Denning fixed him with a sympathetic look. Tzenkethi were not know for their subtle tactics, and the feeling that he might be outmatched weighed heavily upon his tactical officer. "How goes the security sweep, Commander?" "We're halfway through a Level 3 diagnosis. Not the slighest trace of anything remotely resembling Federation, Romulan, Klingon, Kzinti or Cardassian surveillance gear. I have a theory, though." "Yes?" "We did not detect any advanced electronic warfare gear aboard the Kzinti ships. No taps here. Maybe they didn't find out our shield frequencies, they already knew them." Denning blinked for a second, then nodded and turned around. "Computer, set shields to automatic modulation, fractal algorithm." The quite chirp of acknowledgement was followed by a few seconds of silence. Then, all hell broke loose as klaxons began to ring and consoles beeped furiously. "What's going on?" Denning shouted over the noise. "The cloak is failing!" Guvet replied. "Drop it!" The struggling Eclipse finally emerged from it's flickering shroud, finding itself staring down the enemy starships. As the Tzenkethi starships began to fire, the small Federation ship began to evade the bolts of fire, first slowly, then more fluidly, neatly dodging the green arcs of disruptor bolts while taking the ineffective laser beams. The bridge rocked as a stray bolt hit the ship. Rodan clung to his console, trying to keep the ship in the fight. "We're getting target locks on twenty of them. Shields holding at 97%." "Target their main reactors and weapons!" Denning nearly flinched as he watched the hologram around him move, multiple beams shooting out of the Eclipse as it's phaser arrays worked overtime. Shot by shot, the odds were rapidly evening out. Denning hoped that the ship would hold together against whatever the Tzenkethi could throw against them. "Down to ten," Rodan announced happily. Now that the sneaking around part of the mission had apparently ended, he was right where he wanted to be, riding a tough little ship against overwhelming odds and enjoying every second of it. In another well-conceived maneuver, the Eclipse neatly evaded an immobilized privateer ship (which caught a disruptor burst, on top of that), used the mutual repulsion of shield bubbles to push one of the smaller ships against another, leading to a devastating crash, and fired off a salvo of photon torpedoes at one of the lead ships, critically overloading it's shield grid. The other small ship, blindsided by the Eclipse's unexpected combat agility, quickly fell to a staccato of concetrated phaser fire. Only, the move was a bit too smooth, and the Eclipse caught a trio of disruptor bolts before it could evade. The bridge was noteably quieter than before; Rodan's messages came shorter, in clipped, hushed tones. "48% shields." "Helm, full reverse." The ship rocked slightly, the inertial dampeners straining to diffuse the forces being imparted on the Eclipse. After a brief struggle, the ship suddenly lurched backward; the big privateer ship, normally more nimble than the even larger Eclipse, could only evade the Federation ship, and in doing so, passed their intended target. While the privateer tried to turn around to reaim it's forward-mounted disruptor cannons, the Eclipse merely came to a stop and began going forward again. "Collision projected in ten seconds!" Fuller shouted from her console, perhaps a bit louder than strictly required. "Torpedoes locked," Rodan said. Only now did Denning allow himself to smile; the plan had worked. "Fire torpedoes, full spread!" As the two ships closed in, the Eclipse's twin torpedo launchers spat, each unleashing five missiles in rapid sequence. The Federation ship and the privateer both aborted their crash course, pulling away; however, the disruptor bolts flew away harmlessly, while the torpedoes tracked their target, impacting one after another and finally leaving the privateer spinning out of control. Denning grinned as he saw the last enemy ship disabled. "Mr. Guvet," Carsten said, "please signal the Tzenkethi that we are ready to accept their unconditional surrender." -- Posted by Gatac on 11:44 am on Jan. 26, 2005 Captain's Log, USS Eclipse, Stardate 63006,0, Captain Denning. We have contacted Starfleet Intelligence and appraised them of our situation. The Tzenkethi survivors have been escorted away by the USS Pericles; I regret to say that many died by self destruction even after we had already disabled them. Commander Rodan informed me that this was not unusual for Tzenkethi privateers. Just what they were looking for here remains a mystery. The Innari have politely declined to establish diplomatic relations with the Federation; their planet has been marked for non-interference. Denning nearly floated over the bridge, wordlessly watching the crew at work. The Eclipse was still in one piece, but all the little bugs and quirks from shakedown had come back to haunt them. He briefly wondered whether the next replicated coffee would be blue again. "Status, Mr. Guvet?" The Cardassian replied, never once looking at his console. "Annular warp drive section is due for reattachment in 20 minutes. We have weakened sections of ablative armor on the starboard side, but Commander Cranston has informed me that we need to return to a starbase to have them replaced. The Pericles gave us a spare set of torpedoes, so we're currently fifteen photons and three quantums over nominal load." There was a short pause before Guvet went on. "And Commander Cranston asked me to give him two hours notice the next time we go play submarine. His words." "I take it we're ready to depart?" "Yes, Captain, we are." Denning nodded, then turned to Ensign Fuller at the helm. "Ensign, bring us back to Federation space, Warp 9." The young woman nodded, punched in a few coordinates, then spoke up. "Two hours at Warp 9, Sir." Denning nodded. "Do it."