Author Topic: A Lovelace Ordinary  (Read 7376 times)

Offline sero

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A Lovelace Ordinary
« on: December 14, 2009, 01:19:31 pm »
Captain Gregory Blake had just last month been promoted to the rank of Commodore and given more responsibility within Task Force 38.  He hadn't yet bothered to change his pips to a bar nor had he announced his promotion.  Why?  Because he didn't really care.  He had thought he did at the time but what had been a very good day had turned to shit after he'd returned to his Ready Room to complete some paperwork and drink some Scotch before his date with his wife.  His wife it turned out, had other plans.

Gregory leaned back in his chair much like he had a month ago.  His booted feet on his desk, a glass of Scotch in his hand and his collar undone.  Today he was catching up on his Captain's Personal Log, something he hadn't bothered with since that fateful day.  He cast his mind back as he tried to formulate the words of the event, for his Log, as it had transpired...

One month ago, after the Black Tie Event

Gregory hadn't bothered to change out of his evening wear.  It had seemed a bit redundant to him to refer to it as evening wear when the Black Tie Event had taken place during the afternoon, Kepler time.  He'd swaggered across the command centre and into his Ready Room, poured himself a drink, slammed it back and poured another.  After he'd collapsed into his chair, his yeoman had brought him a slew of padds and left without a word to him.

A few moments later his reading was interrupted by the chime and Chief Petty Officer Catalina Jayce floated in.  Her deceptively young face had a haunted look to it and after he had studied her he decided she'd been crying.  Again.  It appeared the once warrior woman was becoming an emotional wreck.  Any concern he had for her though was swept away when she revealed to him the cause.

She was pregnant.

It was not his.

She was leaving Kepler.

And he let her.

And then it got worse...

The next morning, the father of her child had taken a few drunken swings at Gregory.  He had been forced to remove him from the station.  Unfortunately that meant he was in need of a new Chief Security / Tactical Officer and Intelligence Chief.  The real blow to his pride though was that the pair, until recently lovers, would return through the gateway on the same transport.  The odds of a reconciliation were great.  The blow to Gregory's pride was greater.


Now all Gregory had to look forward to was the imminent arrival of his new boss, the Task Force Commanding Officer.  One Rear Admiral Elizabeth Bassenthwaite.  The Ice Queen.  The Wicked Bitch from the West.  All those and more.  Everyone on the station had something to keep them busy while they readied for her visit.  Engineering still had troubles with reactor two to sort out.  Sciences had received a new shipment of things to inventory and store away.  Medical were ploughing through the physicals that were still outstanding.  Security / tactical had been a bit lax of late without a leader so Lieutenant Commander Isis Rae had taken over their drills.  The civilian population on the other hand were being a pain in the arse, turning up where they weren't authorised to and harassing Gregory's staff.  Gregory suspected they were going space crazy as there hadn't been any vessels visiting Kepler in almost three weeks, aside from yesterday's brief visit by the Einstein.

Soon though there would be action.  USS Lakota would be arriving with the Rear Admiral and he had an appointment to meet his new Chief Security / Tactical Officer, any minute now.  Then, in a few more weeks Gregory would be welcoming his baby-sister Eva.  Something he realised worriedly, he would need to warn his senior staff about.  Disruption and distraction had a habit of affecting those around her, wherever she went.

Gregory scrubbed at his bearded face and kicked his feet off the desk so he could go back to his new favourite habit, pacing.  He took his drink with him of course and pondered, life, the universe and everything.
Former CO Gregory Blake


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Re: A Lovelace Ordinary
« Reply #1 on: December 14, 2009, 02:09:34 pm »
Kepler Station
Zoey's Office

MD1, 07:26


Zoey sat at her desk a cup of tea in her hand, she took a sip and put the mug down.  She sighed as she stared at the blank computer screen before her.  She had been sitting in her office for the past half hour and nothing came to her.  Her hair was down which was unusual for her appearance in sickbay.  Her trademark smile was also missing something that wasn't often seen since her return to the station.

Ever since dropping her sister off on the other side of the Gateway something was missing.   She didn't understand the feelings knowing she did the right thing, but still...  She had taken care of Olivia like she was her child and it was tough to adjust.   Mike certainly helped, she spent most nights with him.   Either he slept on the couch of her quarters, or she spent the night in his bed and him on his couch.   Although she did feel guilty for him sleeping on the couch but he wouldn't have it any other way.

She wasn't quite sure what she would do if he hadn't shown up on Kepler.  It was a chime at her doorway that brought her back to reality.   "Come in," she said.

"Morning Zoey," the Medical Support Assistant said.   Crewman Sarah Kirstyn was the Medical Support Assistant assigned to the medical staff in sickbay.  Mostly however she dealt with the Chief Medical Officer, the Assistant Chief, and Zoey.   Although recently Zoey had taken on the role of Acting Assistant Chief Medical Officer, awaiting results from the Starfleet Personnel review board about her commission.   She also needed to prove herself worthy of the job before becoming second in charge of the medical department.

"Whats up Sarah?" she asked the woman, who around Zoey's age.

"Just wanted to give you a couple things," she said, placing a few PADDs in the inbox of Zoey's desk.   "Just so you know I did get word from the Admiral that she wanted to meet with you regarding Captain Blake."   The MSA said, sitting down in one of Zoey's chairs.

"I figured," she said, quietly.   She knew that Greg had been released from her care officially and from probation.  However, she hadn't had the chance to give her formal findings even though she agreed with the results.  The troubling thing was she wasn't really ever sure if she was helping Greg or if he was helping himself.   She also wanted to do one last visit with him, although now that he had the option to say no she doubted it would happen.

Sarah smiled, "Cheer up Zoe."

Zoey gave her a weak half smile, "I'll get over it eventually."   Zoey watched Sarah leave and decided she should just get on with her day's work.  There was a lot of new administrative things that Zoey had to do.  Mike had given her the job of scheduling the medical staff aboard the station, which she didn't mind.  It was just something new to get used to having to do.  Zoey turned on her computer and opened her confidential file on Captain Blake, and she skimmed she saw a note that something had been updated by Starfleet Personnel.   Being curious, she scrolled to the section of the file that contained his service record and a large smirk appeared on her face.

"I knew it."


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Re: A Lovelace Ordinary
« Reply #2 on: December 14, 2009, 05:52:24 pm »
| Docking bay, Kepler Station
| MD1
| 0745


With a PADD in hand, Isis Rae loitered around the docking bay, watching and waiting.  It had been some time since she had attended the academy, but she still remembered the anxiety of reporting to her first assignment, how overwhelming it was to learn the layout of a new location, and how the orientations seemed to breeze over the important information.  She spotted her mark with little difficulty and set off to meet her, "Cadet Holzwarth?"

As Julia made her way across the docking bay, she resisted the urge to tug her uniform tunic down or check her ponytail for the umpteenth time. And, for the umpteenth time, she wished she had cut her hair as short as her roommate Qin's. Instead, Julia felt that anyone watching her cross the docking bay would tag her with the descriptions of 'cute' or 'perky', and not give her or her potential abilities serious consideration.

Julia mentally shook her head out of her self-doubt, reminding herself of the advise of the Senior Chief who had taken Julia under her wing on the trip out to Kepler Station.

"Chin out and shoulders straight, Kay-det. Fleet wants its officers to be officers, and you start doing that by acting it on the outside and believing it on the inside."

When the taller lieutenant walked over to her, Julia tried to display an air of confidence she didn't totally feel as she came to attention.

"Yes, ma'am, Fourth year Cadet Julia Holzwarth, reporting to duty as ordered, ma'am."

Rae offered a brief smile, "Lieutenant Isis Rae, acting XO.  I'll show you to your quarters and give you a brief tour around the station."  She checked around the bay, looking for the reporter that seemed to stalk newcomers and was relieved to not see her.  "Did you focus on a particular science at the academy?"  Rae asked as she began walking toward the exit.

"Yes, ma'am, probability mechanics. I had researched the subject for my doctoral thesis at Washington University---that's a college on Earth ma'am, central North American continent. Before I entered the academy. Not that I'm not conversant in other areas. I have an interest in combinatorial game theory, though that stems from my fascination with chess and chess variants. I like to think my time at the Academy has allowed me to become adept at creating a number of mathematical models describing subjects in various disciplines, though I must confess my comfort level on doing so is primarily in physics, although I have admit a certain fascination with Pareto efficiency in pre-warp---" Julia's jaw suddenly snapped shut as she realized she had started babbling, something she had  tendency to do when she was nervous. "Sorry, ma'am. Can I grab my bag, ma'am? I just have the one."

"If you'd like," Rae answered, pausing at the door, "though delivery is fairly reliable.  I haven't heard of anyone complaining of lost luggage."

"Yes, ma'am." Julia quickly hurried to follow her new XO through the exit, trying to fight down a blush at making another faux pas. "Sorry, ma'am, I wasn't really sure what to expect at this posting."

"It's the nature of Starfleet to be unpredictable," Rae explained as they continued on.  "No need for apologies.  The docking bays," she indicated with a dismissive wave, "you'll probably not see those again for quite some time."  Turbolift doors opened for them a moment later and Rae called for a promenade level and turned the conversation back to the Cadet.  The science talk was all above Rae's level of comprehension; yet she appreciated the young woman's enthusiasm.  "Outside of the science department, what other interests do you have?"

Julia felt herself relax somewhat as the older woman coaxed her to opening up. "Well, my brother Luca has been trying to get me to do things to break my neck for most of my life, everything from Parrises Squares to white water kayaking," Julia said with a half-smile. Luca, her fraternal twin, a gifted athlete and natural adventurer, was a member of the Academy's Parrises Squares team. Luca had considered it his brotherly duty to make sure that Julia didn't withdraw into her intellectual life. "I can't say I'm very good at any of the things he dragged me into, but I like to think I'm good enough not to embarrass myself. I'm an avid reader of anything halfway decent in the Sherlock Holmes genre. And I'm something of an amateur ludologist...that's the study of games. Though some people would say narratologist, depending on whether you treat games as play or stories. Sorry, ma'am," Julia said, ducking her head with a blush, "I tend to go on sometimes in unfamiliar situations. I do like games of all sorts, though. It seems the easiest way for me to make friends."

The lift chose that moment to open up to the promenade deck. "Oh my! Sorry, ma'am, I just wasn't expecting anything like this when I got my assignment!" In truth, Julia had been expecting an aesthetically barren outpost, with everything designed strictly for efficiency.

"Kepler is home to a large number of civilians.  You'll find them intermingled in most departments on the station," the lieutenant quickly explained.  "Generally, the favored locations to gather, eat, and drink are the Treehouse lounge and the Orchids and Jazz, but there are other, smaller places too.  Shopping, people watching, recreation..."  They strolled toward a different set of turbolifts in order to give the cadet a chance to absorb some of the promenade's sights.  "Your brother is also in Starfleet?"

Julia looked around the promenade, trying not to gawk. In an odd way, the mingling of small shops and restaurants, despite its exotic setting, reminded Julia of main street in her home town. So enthralled was Julia that she almost missed the Lieutenant's question. Quickening her pace to catch up with the Lieutenant, Julia answered, "My brother? Yes, ma'am. He went into the Academy a year before I did. Went into the Marines. He's in flight school right now," Julia added wistfully. Her brother had been one of her best friends, and talking about him made Julia realize just how truly removed she was from everyone and everything she had ever known.

As the two women walked into the new set of turbolifts, one of the places the Lieutenant mentioned suddenly registered. "Treehouse lounge, ma'am? That seems an unusual name for a restaurant in a space station. If you'll forgive me for saying so, ma'am."

Rae called for deck five.  "Decks one through three contain the arboretum, with the Treehouse lounge being located on deck one - in a tree.  Nice ambiance.

"Science is a maze of modules B, C, and D (decks 25 through 28) which is better directed by the science staff.  I'll let you figure those out on your own and show you to deck five, where your quarters are," she offered while the turbolift doors opened to a standard-looking corridor.  "Do you play games, or just study them?"

Julia's mind reeled at the thought of an actual an actual space! And a treehouse that served as a restaurant or a lounge or something many people? If Julia had been sitting in her room back at the Academy, and somebody had asked Julia to give the dimensions of such a lounge based on a few facts, which didn't include the type of tree, it's heights, etc., but only the dimensions of the arboretum that the tree grew in, Julia would be spewing out numbers, including the probable dimensions, its optimum size, etc. But here, literally hundreds of thousand of light years away from home, it was the right side of Julia's mind that was filling in the details of the unseen treehouse, not the left.

Julia shook her head and blushed as she realized she had again gotten distracted by her imagination to the point that she almost hadn't heard her Executive Officer's question. Lt. Rae must think I'm a real airhead, Julia though to herself.

"Oh, yes ma'am, I grew up enjoying games." A weekly game night had always been a key feature in the Holzwarth family social life, with seasonal modifications on the games played to coincide with whatever holiday was being celebrated. She had bonded with Keanna over games of Konane. And, of course, Qin had taught her how to play Pai Gow, and insisted that it was only Julia's perverse puritanical streak (Qin's words, and not ones that Julia agreed with) that prevented Julia from fully mastering a gambling game.

As the Lieutenant led Julia to what she took to be the door of her quarters, Julia asked, "Ma'am do you know who my roommate will be? Or will it be roommates?" Julia's father had warned her that on some of the smaller ships and stations, only senior officers and non-commissioned officers rated single quarters.

"You're free and clear of having to share; currently, you're the only cadet on the station."  Rae handed over the PADD she had been carrying as they approached the correct room.  "Your room assignment and information about the science departments," she explained.  "Best way to learn the place is to go exploring on your own, or I can show you to the arboretum if you'd like." she offered.

When Lieutenant Rae invited her to take a tour of the arboretum, Julia nearly leapt at the invitation. Nearly. Julia felt sure that it wouldn't reflect well on a fourth year cadet who didn't report to her duty station as soon as she checked on the ship.

Regretfully, Julia replied, "I guess I should report in to my station, ma'am." With a glint of hope, Julia asked, "Lieutenant, would it be possible to get that tour later? When I...well,when I see everyone I'm supposed to see when I check in, ma'am?"

"Certainly," Rae replied with a nod.  "I'm a comm link away, or send me a message and we can stop in the Treehouse lounge for a bite to eat," she offered.  The offer gave her a chance to kill two birds with one stone; help the Cadet settle in and check on Matthews in a less-than-obvious manner.

Julia thanked the XO again, then made her way into her new private quarters. Not quite as big as her room back home, but still she wasn't sharing it with anyone. Thinking of a roommate made Julia think about Qin, and Julia wondered how her Academy roommate was doing on her cadet cruise.

Shaking her head, Julia unpacked a few of her things, then decided there would be time for that later. For now, she better find her new department head and check in.


A joint post by Lt. Isis Rae, Acting Executive Officer

« Last Edit: December 14, 2009, 06:49:01 pm by Julia Holzwarth »


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Re: A Lovelace Ordinary
« Reply #3 on: December 14, 2009, 07:46:44 pm »
[MD 1; 0730]

Aaron strolled quietly through the forest, walking along the edge of a small stream. His first month on the station had come and gone and he had quietly settled in. He could place names on nearly all the faces of the science staff and he knew his way around the station. All in all he daily routine had become rather dull; work through the science backlog, go back to his quarters, sleep and repeat all over again. Every once in awhile some of the science staff would go out and do something and he would go along but mostly everything had a nice repetitive feel to it.

It was not a bad thing, not by any means, but a little more variety would be nice. His mind wandered back to Z’tan (again). The kind of variety he could provide would be most welcome however despite the hint that further encounters would be happening he had not seen hide nor hair of the Romulan. Granted Aaron had not made any attempt to contact the Lieutenant but if their one and only encounter had made one thing clear it was that if anything else would happen he was the one that would be pursued.

He shook his head; his now longer hair falling in his face. The only reason his mind would drift back to Z’tan was because his biological clock was ticking, so to speak. With only one serious relationship under his belt, only that lasted all of 6 months, part of him was itching to sow his oats or whatever the hell the Humans called it. Z’tan, even though the Romulan captivated him in more ways the one, did not seem like the dating type but perhaps it was time to spread his wings. Unless Z’tan happened to show up; then he’d put his wings back in storage for a little bit longer.

His commbadge chirped. “Prior to Ingles.”

He tapped the small badge. “Ingles here.”

“The Chief wants us to start going though the staff that arrived the other day. Seems we have a big wig on the way and he wants everything squared away.”

Aaron rolled his eyes. Damn Admirals. Why couldn’t that just keep their annoying asses firmly planted in a chair on Earth? “I’ll be there in a minute”

[Cargo Bay 8]

The petite petty officer followed Aaron into the cargo bay. He walked up to the first case he spotted and popped open the lid.

“What do we have here?” He picked up a rather elaborate and heavy crest, decorated in ornate crystals and odd text.

Kaya scrolled through the PADD in her hand. “Skareen battle crest, date unknown. It’s one a several Skareen artifacts that have come out of the Star Desert. Seems the Horlderlin pulled out a bunch of stuff.”

Aaron studied the artifact closely. It belonged to a house or sect of high power, perhaps royalty if that was how their society worked. “What are the Skareen?”

“Lizards.” Kaya replied. “Really big, really dead, lizards.”

Aaron grimaced. He hated lizards. “I’ll look at all of it at once.”

He placed the crest down and picked up a robe.

“That is robe of the last empress of an empire, or at least that is what the trader said.”

It look like cheap Risan cloth to Aaron. “Did they give us the name of the empire?”

Kaya scrunched he face up and just made an S sound before trusted the PADD in Aaron’s face. “You try and pronounce it.”

He took one look at the PADD and gave it back to her. “To much work for a crappy robe. Next.”

“A data repository advice, origin unknown.”

He picked up the device. It looked like a bulky keyboard with foreign text all over it, three rows of keys sat in the front. He turned it over and located a small button and pressed it. The thing whirred to life, orange light illuminating the keys. Seconds later a small holographic display with the same alien text popped up.

Aaron grinned like a kid in a candy store. “Jackpot.”


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Re: A Lovelace Ordinary
« Reply #4 on: December 15, 2009, 12:01:45 pm »
|Kepler Station
|MD 1 0800

Working himself to death wasn't doing the job.  Ling was having no success in forgetting Mike Freitas, though he'd broken the habit of calling him Makani ...... mostly.  That brought too many memories with it, memories he was trying to block out.  What was the point of remembering things that hurt him?

On the other hand, it wasn't doing the job.  Memories still flashed in and out of his mind at odd moments when he forgot to guard his thoughts.  With the day off, he looked over the unworked pieces of wood he'd brought back from Acheron and chose a smooth chunk of golden color.  Picking up his tools, he headed out of his quarters, dressed in jeans and a Marine-green t-shirt.

Where to go?  He had no workshop on Kepler.  Maybe he should look for space for that soon.  If he decided to stay.  He hadn't made many friends, and most of those were gone now. Maybe he should get out of the Marines, leave Kepler, go ...... somewhere, anywhere.  Without planning to, he found himself at the Arboretum. 

Good a place as any, he shrugged, looking around for a likely spot where he could be out of the mainstream.  He spied a small hillock at the beginning of the woods beyond the flowers spread out close to the entrance.  It would work.

Shortly, he was seated on the grass, tools spread out on one side, looking at the chunk of wood.  He'd originally picked it up to carve a  bust of Freitas.  "Well, why not?  Maybe it will get him out of my system," he muttered as he began to shape the wood, carving away the corners. 

As he shaped it, the carving worked it's magic on him, calming his spirit, leaving him only with a  yearning for Mike.  It was such a part of him now, he didn't recognize it playing in the background of his mind.

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Re: A Lovelace Ordinary
« Reply #5 on: December 15, 2009, 04:08:27 pm »
| Astrometrics, Deck 27, Module C
| MD1
| 1000


It was obvious she was a Marine.  The uniform gave it away, with its green accents and the different rank insignia worn by that branch of service.  The woman wearing the uniform wore her hair up, in a crown braid, in keeping with the severer standards the Marines observed.

So when she entered Module C, which many of its inhabitants regarded as exclusively Science territory, it drew some stares.  When she walked straight to the new Midshipman, it drew a lot of stares.  "Hello," the Marine said.  "I am Lieutenant Ivanova.  You are Cadet Holzvarth?"

Julia was busy at her temporary workstation in astrometry, a half smile on her face. In truth, she hadn't really been sure what to expect when she came aboard the Kepler, and had been pleasantly surprised with everything her new XO, Lt. Rae, had shown Julia while she escorted Julia to her new quarters. Her unshared quarters, Julia couldn't help grinning to herself. After unpacking her few belongings, Julia decided to track down her department head and do a little exploring with the modules that would be her work area for the foreseeable future.

Julia had passed a crewman trying to make sense of the data gathered on a comet that had passed by the station before Julia's arrival. Apparently, the comet had caused quite a disruption, including gaps on the data collected on the comet itself. There was some indication in the comet's trajectory, however, that there might be a heretofore undetected body out there whose gravitational pull had affected the comet's trajectory, if only slightly. The emphasis being on the word might.

Julia had leaned over the crewman's shoulder, at first giving helpful hints on how to arrange the data. Before long, the crewman had surrendered his position to Julia, whose fingers gleeful maneuvered the data in question. It was just simple celestial mechanics, after all, but the gaps in the data made it like a real live detective story.

So enthralled was Julia in her project, she almost missed the marine lieutenant marching straight on her.. The marine had a presence, though, that mad Julia immediately come to a stance of attention. "Yes, ma'am, I'm Cadet Holzvarth, um Holzwarth, ma'am."

Ivanova raised an eyebrow slightly, and examined the midshipman for a moment.  "Stand easy," she said.  "You are inwestigatink comet effect?  I haf tu fighters on deck vith blown sensors.  Afionics techs can not tell vhy.  Fighters vere flown near comet.  Am hafink sensor suite replaced... do you vant look at before ve pull from birds?"

"Yes, ma'am, right away, ma'am." Julia started to move then stopped. Embarrassed, she turned to the marine lieutenant. "Um, ma'am, which way are the fighters?"

Ivanova smiled slightly.  "Relax, cadet," she murmured.  More loudly, she added, "First, go to turbolift.  You kno vhere is turbolift?"  To help the cadet out, she looked in the appropriate direction.

Julia gave a quick bob of her head, her face beet red. "Yes, ma'am, I know vhere..uh, where the turbolift is. Ma'am," Julia added hurriedly.

Ivanova waited, her eyebrows raised, until the cadet started off in the direction of the turbolift.  "So much vork," she complained, quietly, and then followed.


A joint post by

Lt. Svetlana Ivanova, Acting Marine Commander

« Last Edit: December 15, 2009, 04:12:37 pm by Julia Holzwarth »


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Re: A Lovelace Ordinary
« Reply #6 on: December 15, 2009, 09:19:20 pm »
| Sickbay
| MD1, 1100h

He woke with a start and found himself back in sickbay where he had dozed off, the chair he had been sitting on fell over as he stood up quickly to move away from something that wasn’t there.  His senses were fogged and had tried to register that it was all just a dream.  Michael’s heart tried to slow its racing pace while his breathing returned to normal, but it seemed like it was a long battle.  He shook his head to try to clear the memory of the heat on his face, and especially the memory of that scream.  All ghosts from a dark place, a place long since gone.

After a long moment he stepped forward and righted the chair that had fallen over, and then slowly sat back down into the seat.  He had worked yet another double just for something to do, but then actual work had come up and he had not actually gone to sleep until he had suddenly dozed off out of nowhere.  He figured that his mind switching everything off like that was a clear indication that it was time for some sleep before he had to come back later tonight.  He put a hand on the back of his neck and rotated his head around, felt a few cricks right itself, and then he was good to continue.

The last of the personnel reviews had still been on his screen.  His department was small enough that he had decided to handle them all himself anyway.  Sure he could have doled out the responsibility to someone else, but then he would get one word reviews half the time.  It is what he had done in the past, try to figure out as many variations on the word ‘excellent’, ‘great’, ‘awesome', or ‘bad’ that he could find.  It drove his last chief nuts before he had shown up on Kepler.  He figured since he had forced his last chief to rewrite half of his reviews with his half assed approach to personnel reports, chances are someone else would have done the same to him sooner or later.  Might as well skip the middle man and do them all himself.

“Superlative worker,” Michael said as he typed out the words.  He paused from typing. “Oh I like that word,” He continued his dictation at that point. “And fabulous dancer.”

He chuckled and looked at the file.  It would at the very least cause an eyebrow to rise from the Captain, if he didn’t just delete the line itself.  Harris shook his head and deleted the line, then finished off a serious paragraph much as it pained him to send something in without some oddity.  With the work finally done, he looked through his queue and noticed that things were pretty much tickety-boo.  Requisitions were done, special requests had been seen to, schedule was updated, and last but not least his latest shipment of cigars and some fine scotch was on its way apparently.  He mentally drooled and kicked his feet back onto the desk mentally shoring himself up to not sleep again.

On the screen he started bringing up information regarding Starfleet regulations and continued a bit of a search through what he could find out.  On a whim he had decided to look some information up, but then he realized over time that the whole system of Starfleet rules was byzantine enough that one either had to be completely drunk, or on some sort of rather impressive hallucinogen for any of it to make sense.  He had tried the former and the words started to make sense, but in retrospect he figured that it was only every third to fifth word he had been reading.  The latter might have worked better if he was not sure as hell that there was a rule regarding that.

Maybe they had made the whole no hallucinogen rule so that no one could figure this stuff out?” he thought, and then just chuckled to himself.

Whatever the case, he didn’t like what was on the screen.  He shut his eyes and imagined a different world.  A world where he had not bitten off more than he could chew, and one where he didn’t have make the tough calls that had to be made.  It was a simpler world though of fairies and unicorns, and rivers of chocolate fudge.  He had to play the cards that had been dealt.  His eyes opened after a few moments, and then he shut everything down.  Michael rubbed his head a bit as he looked around the room to see that things were all good and taken care of before he took off.  When he was satisfied he left sickbay.

“Lunch,” He muttered under his breath. “Booze, and sleep." He paused in his train of thoughts before muttering again. "Lots of booze.”


Solo post type thingie by the ruggedly handsome:


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Re: A Lovelace Ordinary
« Reply #7 on: December 16, 2009, 06:27:28 am »
|Kepler Station, Turbolift
|MD1, 1005

The turbolift doors opened, and the pair stepped in.  "Repair bay one," Ivanova said, and the lift started into motion.

After a moment, Ivanova said, "Lift, halt."  She turned to face the midshipman.  "Holzvarth... vhat is gifen name?"

"Julia Anne Holzwarth, ma'am. Fourth year cadet, ma'am." Julia added, bracing her shoulders as she made her reply.

"Julia," Ivanova said.  "I am Svetlana Yevgeneva.  Perhaps you haf noticed, Cadet, that ve are not at Academy any more?"

"Um, yes ma'am," Julia answered bemusedly, wondering where this line of questioning was going.

"You are behafink like first-year Cadet," Ivanova said.  "This is surfifal skill for Academy, but not for fleet.  You behafe this vay, and you vill get one of tu reactions: either people vill presume you are incompetent, or they vill bully you.  Neither is good for make happy cadet."

Julia was a bit taken aback with the the Marine Lieutenant's bluntness. She didnt know what else to offer in response except a very weak "Ma'am?"

"Nobody here is inspector, Julia," Ivanova explained.  "Here ve is all fello professional.  Nobody vill inspect you.  Nobody vill efen care if you make, or don't make in the mornink your bed.  All ve care about is if you do job."

Julia suddenly realized the Marine Lieutenant dressing her down was actually a little bit shorter than herself. It didn't seem to matter, as Julia felt as if the Lieutenant's presence was filling the turbolift. Julia wasn't really sure what kind of response the Lieutenant wanted. Personally, Julia just wanted this confrontation to be over.
"Yes, ma'am. I'll---I'll try harder, ma'am," Julia finally managed to reply.

Ivanova looked the cadet over for a moment, and then sighed.  "Да.  Is vhat I am afraid of."  She shrugged.  "Lift, resume."

In the uncomfortable silence that ensued, Julia had the distinct feeling she had failed some unspoken test. As the lift doors opened, Julia tried to change the subject.

"Ma'am, the two fighters that you spoke of, the one with the unrecoverable sensor pods. You still have their flight paths on file, don't you?" The most reasonable answer, Julia thought, is that they were the two that came closest to the exotic material that had been on that comet. "And where can I pull a pair of dungarees, ma'am?" Julia was already starting to put the uncomfortable situation in the turbolift out of her mind, as she started to focus on a new problem, a new mystery.

The pair walked into the repair bay.  Rather than answer directly, Ivanova called, "Corporal Bennet!" and a dark-haired young woman came over.  "This is Corporal Bennet," Ivanova said, by way of introduction.  "She is plane captain for one damaged bird.  She vill take care of you.  Bennet, find Midshipman Holzvarth coveralls."

"Yes, ma'am," Bennet answered, and looked at the middy.  "If you'll come this way?  We'll get you some coveralls, and then I'll show you the damaged sensor packs."

"Thank you, Corporal. With your leave, ma'am?" As Julia followed the Corporal, she was sure that she felt the Marine Lieutenant's eyes on her and, for some reason, a verse from her family's bible came to mind.

TEKEL, you have been weighed on the scales and found wanting

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Re: A Lovelace Ordinary
« Reply #8 on: December 16, 2009, 07:57:53 am »
|Captain's Ready Room
|MD1 0805

Gregory stopped pacing the short length of his Ready Room and returned to the chair behind his desk.  He reached out and idly fingered his glass of Scotch while he stared unseeing at some paddwork before him.  It was something to do with the new personnel who were currently arriving at Kepler Station.  He had been surprised to find they were accepting a cadet in sciences, this wasn't exactly a prime posting for an almost Academy graduate.  Who was he though to argue with it, it would keep sciences happy as they would have a new plebe to do some of the grunt work he heard them often bitch and moan about. 

Gregory however was more interested in the replacements in the Security / Tactical department, so when the door chimed he knew it was his new Chief.  He considered the unfinished glass of Scotch for a moment, opened a drawer in his desk and put it away.  Out of sight, out of mind.

"Come in," Gregory called out and the door obediently opened to admit his visitor.

Ben was surprised by the figure greeting him as he stepped through the door and into the room.

For a second he flashed back to the conversation he'd had with Captain Caldwell aboard the Tecumseh, when he'd volunteered for the posting here at Kepler; - "You do realise that 'ass-end of nowhere' is paying this place a compliment, lieutenant", was what the Captain had said, But Ben was adamant - here was his chance to do some good work, and he wasn't going to pass it up.

In truth, Ben found it hard to imagine that the man in front of him - slightly disheveled and rumpled - was a Starfleet Captain at all, but rank insignia and uniforms don't lie. Ben mentally shrugged and brought himself to attention.

"Lieutenant Junior Grade Tremaine, reporting for duty, Sir".

Gregory rose to his feet, standing at his full height which gave him a whole two inches over the younger man.  He'd only had the one drink before the man had arrived so his hand was steady as he stuck it out over the desk and waited for the man to approach him.  "Gregory Blake.  Welcome aboard Lieutenant," he said.

Ben stepped forward, grasping the Captain's hand and shaking firmly, surprised by the grip of the older man for a second, and  noting the way his carriage straightened almost imperceptibly. Ben made a mental note not to underestimate Gregory Blake in the future.

"Thank you, Sir - although I should apologise - I haven't  had a chance to familiarise myself with the stations layout or personnel yet. My appointment seems to have been a little more...well, impromptu than is the norm".

Ben let a small smile flicker at the corner of his mouth before continuing.  "Was kinda hoping you could fill me in".

Gregory gestured to the seat in front of his desk before he sat back down in his own.  "We're a small Regula 1 class station.  We have anywhere up to 374 personnel and civilians residing here.  Because we're out of the way and have a predominantly scientific purpose some of the departments are running on minimum staffing levels, and that includes Sec / Tac, running on about half.  They've been without a Chief for a month, the Assistant Security is green but seems to be a capable security crewman.  The past week the XO has been running drills with them and we've had some issues with civvies turning up in places they shouldn't," Gregory explained.
Ben sat down in the proffered seat and raised his eyebrow at the Captain's last comment.

"Excuse me sir, what sort of problems - and define 'places they shouldn't be'. Also sir, If a may ask? What exactly did happen to the last Chief of Security you had here? The reports seem to be a little sketchy on the subject".

Ben waited for the Captain to respond and was certain he wasn't going to like either answer...

"Engineering seems to be a popular tourist spot," said Gregory.  He paused as he considered Tremaine's last question.  "Your predecessor was dismissed due to acts unbecoming of an officer."

This caused Ben to pause for a second before returning his thoughts to his commanding officer, seated opposite. He almost decided to dig deeper, but quickly dismissed the idea. For whatever reason the former Chief was no longer here, so move on and do the job.

"Then I guess my first port of call should be the XO and the rest of the security team - get caught up to speed. Any known threats I should be aware of? Any particular problem people or races?"

Gregory started to recount the short history of Kepler since it opened, "There are no Borg in the area, although we had a problem with one that was found in stasis when we first arrived.  We had an encounter with a nomadic species known as Tiddleoffs but they've moved on.  Recently we-" he was cut off abruptly as his commbadge chirped.

"Captain, the Admiral's ship has arrived.  She's requesting to beam over."

"Give me two minutes then grant it," Gregory told them and ended the communication.  He got to his feet and said to Ben, "I've got to get that.  Welcome to Kepler Station, Lieutenant.  You'll probably find the Commander in her office."

Ben followed Gregory out of his Ready Room and the two parted ways.


JP brought to you by:

Lieutenant JG Ben Tremaine
Chief Security / Tactical Officer

Former CO Gregory Blake


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Re: A Lovelace Ordinary
« Reply #9 on: December 16, 2009, 09:13:32 am »
|Main Transporter Room
|MD1 0815

The journey had been productive, so Bassenthwaite was pleased. What lay at the end of it wasn’t so pleasing to her at the moment. In the short time Blake had been Task Force Executive Officer, she’d been afforded little opportunity to bring him to task. At first, he had briefly appealed as an opportunity to re-hone her ability to break down and rebuild a man. Now that task seemed like an unwelcome distraction. However, she had never left anything unfinished in her life and she did not intend to start now. Of course, finished had had a certain lasting finality in some cases, but sometimes unpleasant decisions had to be made for the greater good.

As she stepped onto the main transporter onboard the Lakota, a vessel she could only describe as a veritable hodge-podge of old and new, she gave the engineer at the console a level stare; energise. As she dematerialised, a thought was split for an instant between the Lakota and Kepler. It was satisfying when crewmen knew their duty... favoured the Lakota, while ...without needing to have it spelled out. came into being as her newly reformed eyes swept the room, her eyes lingering for only an instant longer on one man in particular – and his attire. She forced her gaze to move on, for now, and said nothing.

Gregory stood, to all intents and purposes, in what looked to be a relaxed manner.  His weight was evenly distributed and his arms were hanging loosely at his sides, the perfect stance for fight or flight.  He watched as the woman who was now his superior appeared before him on the transporter pad.  She had that same ramrod straight posture and calculating gaze that made one think she was looking down her nose at them, just like he remembered from a month ago.

"Admiral," he acknowledged her once she had finished forming and checked him out.

Taking her time to sweep the room again slowly, in what some would call an antiquated attempt to gain further dominion, she stepped off the transporter and stood close to Blake, inclining her head infinitesimally and responding with a cool, “Commodore,” placing an artful touch of emphasis on the new rank to make her point without having to demean herself by making it verbally. She was glad there was no greeting party. She wanted to get down to it, but supposed some formality should be observed. Besides, it would rankle him to have to say yes and give her time to observe him. “Permission to come aboard?”

Gregory lowered his eyes to study her face.  "Like I've a choice," he said to her.

She changed tactics. At once, her ice mask whipped away, not to reveal what was underneath, but to be replaced, imperfectly, by another; there were so many masks there really wasn’t any ‘underneath’ anymore. She smiled. It was a hint of warmth melting ice to dew; thawing the bone-chilling to merely bracing – she was out of practice, but maybe the effort was would not be wasted. “Come now, this visit needn’t be totally unpleasant.” Just mostly, she appended silently, the smile not slipping.

He gave her a look that said he didn't believe her.  Instead of replying to her comment he said, "We're holding up the transporter.  I'll show you to your quarters."

He had deflected, rather than quipping back with something as she’d expected.  It was a diversion she would accept while she thought on the significance of that. She had the feeling it was going to take some time to get anything real from Blake. A diversion was the first line of defence and something she could do little with. When she hit a wall, she would have something to tear down. “Of course. Someone should be bringing my belongings shortly.”

Gregory gestured for her to precede him through the door to the transporter room.  He followed her out and then took the lead with his usual long strides.  He gave a quick explanation to the layout of the station as they walked briskly to the turbolift, "We're on deck 11 along with the security, tactical and operations offices.  Below us the areas designated for marines, then the hangar bay, cargo hold and engineering.  We have four modules, one reserved for medical while the other three are taken up by sciences.  Below that are fuel storage tanks.  Above us is the command centre, then recreation decks, permanent and temporary quarters and the arboretum."

“Is there an itinerary for my visit?” Bassenthwaite wondered if Blake would appreciate her doing rounds of Kepler. She would, if only to learn something more.

"Not really.  Dinner with the senior staff tonight and you're free to poke your nose in wherever you want to," Gregory told her as they reached and entered the turbolift.  To the computer he instructed, "Deck 3."

“Excellent. Dinner.” The emphasis on the pauses exhibited what might be one similarity between them, even if it was fleeting; neither was likely to be looking forward to any form of formal dinner. Bassenthwaite wondered if it was only in their animosity they would find common ground.

Gregory didn't reply.  He remained quiet for the duration of the lift ride, taking the time to ponder what he would have for lunch later.  The lift stopped and the doors parted to reveal a small grassy hill and just a few metres away, what looked to be a forest.  "After you," he said and waited.

Bassenthwaite had spent much of her time on ships and the latter part of her life on Earth. Perhaps it was for that reason that she didn’t expect the arboretum to be quite as expansive as it was. Certainly, it didn’t take her breath away. In fact, she found herself musing over the resource drain and efficiency. Still, she hadn’t expected anything on this station, to all intents and purposes in the middle of nowhere, to surprise her even mildly.

She took the lead walking stepping out of the lift, while asking, “I understand you have a significant number of civilian personnel. How do you find they integrate into work here in the delta quadrant? ” She expected Blake had to put up with a great deal of moaning.

"Around a third of them are contracted to the sciences and medical departments," Gregory explained as they walked along the path, further into the arboretum.  "They fill the gap we've got due to lack of officer positions.  So long as they remember they aren't indestructible, they're fine."

“I see,” she replied simply, wondering how often civilians had taken liberties with their own lives in order to elicit that comment. Then she turned her thoughts to crew morale. “And for entertainment here?”

"Usual stuff," Gregory said and directed her down a smaller path when they reached a fork.  "Two large restaurants, music, some shops, smaller pubs and holodecks."

Bassenthwaite noted the fork, taking the direction she indicated without breaking stride. At the same time, she continued her attempts not to lengthen it too much to match his. She would set the pace, if she could. Intent on dominion as she had been, she’d forgotten how tall – and apparently long-legged – he was. “I understand the Searcher is testing a new shield which might enable them to enter the interior of the Solaria nebula. You’re scientists will probably have alot of data to go over if they are successful. Or more likely I’ll have alot of paperwork to fill out when it’s not.” It was almost a joke, but cynical at the same time, implying their destruction.

"A small sacrifice in the name of science," Gregory said as they came out into a small clearing which contained two ground units separated by a tall hedge and two more units further back and above in the trees.  Gregory pointed to the second ground unit and said, "Yours."

She assessed the dwelling, which almost seemed a house, compared with some quarters she’d been in. “Excellent. This will do nicely.” She stopped and turned to Blake, signalling she would take care of herself from here.

A female voice suddenly cut through the calm quiet of the clearing.  "Greggles!"

Gregory for his part tensed and closed his eyes briefly.  "Excuse me," he said to Bassenthwaite and turned just in time to catch a petite blonde who jumped into his arms.  "You're early," he told her as he tried to keep her fluffy blonde hair from getting into his mouth.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and laughed, "I caught an early ride in.  I mixed business with pleasure, Lakota might be the second Starfleet vessel to play host to an O'Malley.  I should design them someone special.  Maybe a strong masculine Irishman for the harpy of a CO."

Bassenthwaite fervently wanted to be somewhere else. She was not in the mood for socialising. She never was. Still, she felt compelled to stay at the last comment, her left eyebrow shooting skyward. “Harpies aren’t afraid to take what they want. You should remember that.” Her voice was soft and cool, but she couldn’t allow herself to appear offended by this...girl. She might be a backdoor into having her way with Greg – in a professional sense, of course. “Though I suspect Georgia, the busty ECH installed by the last Commanding Officer, a man with little self restraint and less...” She smiled mysteriously, as if she had accidently started to blather. “...but that is neither here nor there. I’m Admiral Bassenthwaite. I see you know Commodore Blake.” She wondered if he had told her and relished the possibility of a negative on that front.

The girl turned her head so she could see the Admiral over Greg's shoulder.  She studied the older woman carefully and took in the regal bearing before she turned her attention back to Greg.  "Another promotion," she asked before she relinquished her hold on him and slid down until her feet touched the ground.  She was barely five foot five.  "You've had as many of them as you've had wives."

"More promotions than wives," Gregory pointed out.

"Whatever," she said and turned back to Bassenthwaite.  "Eva Blake," she said by way of introduction and then hugged the Admiral.

Bassenthwaite’s arms remained awkwardly at her sides for a few moments before her left raised stiffly and patted this Eva Blake on the back a few times. She deserved that much for dismissing what Blake’s correction so completely. She wondered how many wives he had had and how she could get in touch with them. She’d been through a few husbands and it was always the women who came away with the upper hand; any women worth her weight in sawdust, in any case. “It is...nice to meet you,” she managed, even adding a smile which wasn’t entirely superficial. “Where about will you be staying?” She cursed herself for the question as soon as it left her lips. The opportunity was too good and she was letting it show. Her access would’ve made it a simple process to find out.

"It's nice to meet you as well," Eva replied, all smiles.  "Greg said I could live in a tree.  I've not lived in a tree since I was ten.  I think they have better weather control here though than I ever did, aye.  Will you be living in a tree as well?  Maybe we could share.  You have this classical beauty that -"

Eva was abruptly cut off when Gregory picked her up and separated her from the Admiral.  "Don't hit on the Admiral," he admonished her quietly.

"I wasn't!" Eva said and stuck her tongue out at him.  To Bassenthwaite she said, "He's a very over protective brother.  And he doesn't know what he's talking about.  I'm in love with someone else."

"Your horribly disfigured boss?" he asked.

"No," Eva said.  "I met him.  He's not horribly disfigured at all."

"Great," said Gregory although he was secretly happy that she'd lost interest there.  He pointed to one of the units in the tree and said to her, "That one's yours.  Go get settled in and we can have lunch."

Eva pulled another face at her older brother, smiled at Bassenthwaite and ran off to collect her belongings and investigate her tree-house.

“She has plenty of energy,” Bassenthwaite observed, dangerously close to making small talk now. As if realising this, she cleared her throat and somehow managed to stand just a little straighter, though that hardly seemed possible.

"She's a little shit," Gregory told her.  The corners of his mouth turned up however to show otherwise.

Bassenthwaite reminded herself why she was here, dispensed her most frosty stare for a few seconds, then turned her head and sniffed dismissively, working her jaw very slightly as if tasting something sour and then turning back to him, cold eyes set off by the greenery. “I’ll see myself in.”

"Well I wasn't gonna carry you in," Gregory told her and headed off back in the direction they'd come.  Over his shoulder he called out, "I'll send my yeoman over so you can do with her whatever you want."  Perhaps eat the poor girl alive, he added to himself.

My first victim, Bassenthwaite thought, twirling around and gliding eerily to the residence she had been assigned.


JP brought to you by:

Captain Gregory Blake
Commanding Officer


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Re: A Lovelace Ordinary
« Reply #10 on: December 16, 2009, 03:15:30 pm »
|Treehouse Lounge
|Backpost, 1902 Hours

Singing a favorite old song, Van carried crate after crate of freshly replicated glasses and mugs and placed them behind the bar. He figured a few more crates would be enough and then he could relieve the day shift bartender. He grinned, excited about beginning his first shift in the Treehouse Lounge, and amused at the butterflies in his belly.

That was normal, he told himself. Starting a new job was always nervewracking, for both bosses and employess. Still, he liked what he had seen so far of his new digs. Not that he'd seen much. He'd only arrived two days previous, having come in with a cargo freighter carrying items for the scientists and items for the bars. He had sneaked a peek at some of the scientific stuff and could only imagine what some of it was for. And Van had a very active imagination.

Still singing, he went back for a few more crates. That should be enough to get him through a full shift.

Not very far away another Treehouse Lounge employee was preparing for her first shift.  Although Violet wasn't all that nervous.  Power outages, and her lunch with Isis, yesterday had helped keep her mind off her upcoming job.  She was fairly confident in her ability to perform her job and doubted there were too many unpleasant patrons in a place like this.  The only problem was the uniform was a little more revealing than she'd anticipated.  Nothing overly racy but Violet doubted her father would have been happy to let her take the job if he'd known beforehand.

As she entered the lounge the teenager finished tying up her medium length black hair and made her way towards the bar just as someone emerged from the back room.  "Hi!"  She greeted him with a warm smile.

Van walked back out of the store room with more crates of glasses. A pretty young woman greeted him as he came out. "Hey, there!" he answered her. Setting down the glasses, he straightened up and appraised her. "By the uniform I see you must be the new waitress." He held out his hand for her to shake. "I'm Van, the new bartender. Wow, two new employees on the same shift! What were they thinking?" He gave her one of his famously charming smiles.

Violet returned the smile and the handshake.  "I guess they assume we can't blow the place up since it's deep inside a station."  She replied with a soft giggle.

"Or maybe that it wouldn't matter if we did, since it's deep inside a station," he laughed with her. She had a pretty laugh. "Have you been on the station long, Miss...?"

"Sorry where are my manners?  I'm Violet Matthews."  The teenager replied with a slightly embarrassed smile.  "My father and I arrived a couple of days ago.  What about you?  Don't tell me they've put you to work as soon as you arrived."

Van smiled again and said, "Nice to meet you, Violet. Well, sort of they did, but no more than you. I arrived two days ago as well, with the cargo freighter. So I've had a day to acclimate myself, now it's time to go to work! It all good, though, I love my job." Out of years long habit, Van whipped a towel out of his back pocket and began to wipe down the immaculate bar. "Have you ever waitressed before?" he asked her.

"Nope, this'll be my first job outside of babysitting some of the Officer's children on ships Dad served on."  Violet replied as she found her datapad and the list of specials.  "So hopefully I don't make them regret hiring me before I'd even set foot in the quadrant."

He laughed and shook his head. "I don't think you'll have any problem. I mean, you're pretty, that outfit is sexy as it can be. Customers will forgive a lot for a pretty waitress. So if you have trouble, use an old waitress trick: just giggle and apologize all over yourself. You'll not only have them eating out of your hand but you'll probably get a bigger tip." He grinned at her and flipped the towel over his shoulder. "A waitress friend told me about that one years ago when I first started bartending."

Another waitress came over and requested an Aldebaran Whiskey. "Whew, somebody's drinking heavy early in the evening," he said as he quickly poured the beverage and sat it on the waitress's tray. "You'll do fine, Violet, and so will I." He smiled at her again. She really was a nice young lady.

Violet's cheeks reddened a little and she turned towards a couple who were signalling for her.  "Oops better stop chatting for a little bit!"  She said as she took off towards the table.  "Thanks for the tip, I'll keep it in mind!"  She called back to the bartender with an amused smile.

Brought to you by:

Van Thurmond
Bartender, Treehouse Lounge
Kepler Station


Violet Matthews
Waitress, Treehouse Lounge
Kepler Station


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Re: A Lovelace Ordinary
« Reply #11 on: December 17, 2009, 06:38:38 am »
|Kepler Station
|MD 1 1030

Pili had been coming here as often as possible lately. It was quiet and restful in these turbulent times, and its peace tended to calm the troubled thoughts of its visitors enough that Pili could truly feel that calmness. He'd finished the school work he'd brought with him and decided on a walk through the woods to get himself going again. He was still surprised to find woodland trails on a space station, but he wasn't about to start questioning its existence.

He had been thinking about his father as he wandered. He knew something was going on with him; he hadn't been the same since he'd returned from Acheron. Something had gone horribly wrong there, more than the death of Dr. Despard, but his father wouldn't talk about it. He'd been miserable for quite some time, but he'd been hiding it. He'd recently been behaving a bit more like himself, though. Pili had no idea what was going on with him, and that bothered him. His dad had always shared his life with him before, but now he felt somehow...shut out. He hoped he wasn't still angry about the set-up with Cade.

Pili was still trying to figure out what was going on with his dad when he broke through the trees and all but fell over a man sitting on the grass carving a block of wood. He pulled back before he trampled the man. "Oh, sorry," he stammered. "I guess I was daydreaming." He was actually a little surprised that he hadn't sensed the man's presence before he'd been right on top of him. It was strange for him.

Ling didn't glance up.  He was carefully shaving  the right amount of wood to get the curve of Mike's cheek just right.  "No problem.  Daydreams are sometimes what keep us going," he said absently, leaning back to get perspective on the piece.  It wasn't recognizable yet as Mike ... but his heart could see the man within the wood.  "Yep, that's exactly right," he muttered. 

Finally, he looked up and for a second he froze. Pili!  It can't be anyone else.  Mike's eyes ... Mike's son.  A feeling of grief swept through him quickly and was gone, taking with it his immobility.

He looked back at his carving as he said, "Ling Dessan, Marine at your service."

"Pili Freitas-Drune. Nice to meet you," Pili said as he folded his legs and sat beside Ling. The man's sorrow drew him in, trying to see if he could help. "That's coming along nicely." Pili looked over the bust. It was strangely familiar, like he ought to know him. "Is that someone in particular or just a blank?"

For a moment, Ling wasn't sure what to say.  Then he answered, "Someone very particular," he answered.  Then, hoping to deflect the boy's curiosity, because he wouldn't lie to him, the sergeant asked, "Are you interested in wood carving?"

Arboretum JP brought to you by:

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Curious Teen

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Re: A Lovelace Ordinary
« Reply #12 on: December 17, 2009, 11:20:32 am »
|Captain's Ready Room
|MD1, 0830

Zoey had arrived at the Ready Room, where the computer placed Greg.  Of course, he wasn't there which was a bit annoying.  "Computer where is Captain Blake?" she demanded.

"Captain Blake is located near his quarters," the computer responded.

Zoey turned with a huff and a puff and headed quickly for the Turbolift not wanting to miss her opportunity to talk with him.  A few minutes longer and she entered the arboretum to see him walking away from his quarters.

She walked up to him and put her hands on her hip staring up at him, her normal smile replaced with a smirk that had just the slightest hint of evil to it.

Gregory looked the younger woman up and down before he walked past her.  She however caught up to him and fell into a hurried step alongside him.  "Your trip go well?" he asked in reference to her taking her younger sister back through the gateway.

Zoey continued to walk alongside him.  "All considering," she said.  "I miss her," she said, frowning a little.  "How'd your Task Force thing go?" she asked.

He too frowned as he tried to work out what she meant.  "The black tie thing?" he asked and seeing that was it he said, "that was a month ago.  It was... uneventful."

"Yeah, well I've been busy.  And besides, something interesting crossed my desk this morning and I just needed to talk to you about it."  She said, her evil smirk returning slightly.

Gregory glanced at her and said, "That's not an attractive look on you."

Zoey blushed a little and the smirk faded, "So... talk."

"About?" he asked innocently.

"The uneventful time you had with the black tie event," she said.  The innocence in his voice almost made her laugh, knowing he was trying to evade her questioning.

He shrugged and turned at the fork in the path which would take them to the turbolift.  "Danced with a couple of women, caught up with colleagues, met the green COs.  Usual boring stuff."

"Became Task Force Executive Officer, made Commodore, and advanced in your career," she said, flatly.

"Thank you for reminding me," he told her.  With a grin he pointed out, "And an end to my probation.  I don't have to see you anymore, counsellor."

"Well I just wanted to say that I told you so, and you're right you don't have to see me if you don't want to.  But, you can if you would like to," Zoey said, not expecting to ever see Greg again, at least as a patient.

"I hope to never take you up on that offer," said Gregory.  The turbolift opened at their presence and he stepped in after her.  "Deck 10 and 25," he instructed the computer.

"Well there is the trouble with people, they see counselors and look at themselves as needing help.   I look at a counselor as someone to vent to without having to worry about it leaving the room.  And who knows occasionally some good advice.  But then again, I suppose I'm a little biased."  It was then that something had occurred to her.  "You're going to two decks at once?" she asked, curiously.

"I'm going to Deck 10," he said.  "I assumed you were going to Sickbay."

"Possibly, but I think right now I feel the need to go to deck 10."  Zoey leaned against the wall of the lift.  "So, when I give my report to the Admiral about your progress what do you think I should tell her?" she asked.  "I mean, you don't seem to need my help.  Obviously you must have done it yourself so what are your thoughts?" she asked.

"Tell her the truth," said Gregory.  "That I'm fit to command and anything else is none of her bloody business."

Zoey nodded, "Well I guess I'll see how I feel about it.  But I suppose since you're not my patient anymore, I guess I don't really have any business sharing my opinion."  Zoey was a bit angry with him being released prematurely, and that she felt like she failed with him.  Perhaps it was good that she found her niche in being a PA counseling apparently wasn't her strong suit.

"Good," he said as the turbolift stopped and the doors opened.  "So you don't need to follow me to the command centre."

"Well good luck with your new job," she said.  Waiting for him to get off the lift so she could redirect the turbolift for the mess hall.

He just nodded to her as he exited, intent on the next problem that was no doubt waiting to greet him.


JP brought to you by:

Civilian Zoey Thomas
Acting Assistant Chief Medical Officer

Former CO Gregory Blake


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Re: A Lovelace Ordinary
« Reply #13 on: December 19, 2009, 10:46:11 am »
|Engineering Lab

Cade stood in front of the console, frowning.  He'd run what must have been the four millionth diagnostic on the internal sensors, and they were still glitching.  Somethign to do with the radiation from that damned comet.  Systems were on the fritz all over the show.  Nothing major, nothing life threatening.  Just...  Stupid but useful systems.  The more delicate ones.

Cade sighed.  Science still hadn't quite figured out exactly what the radiation was, only that it affected technology rather than biological matter.  "This never would have happened if they'd upgraded us to bio-neural gel packs instead of shoring up the isolinear matrix..." Cade thought to himself.

Thumping the console in frustration, Cade downloaded the latest lot of data onto a PADD and headed to his office.  Maybe he'd learn a thing or two by comparing it to the diagnostic he took before the last set of corrections.  It was a pain, but Cade didn't envy Alex.  The fluctuations in the main reactor were more of a concern, command was more concerned about that right now.  Cade was perfectly happy to stay out of the line of fire and concentrate on the less essential system malfunctions.

Tossing the PADD carelessly on his desk, Cade made his way over to the crate where his coffee making equipment was set up.  "Maybe I should talk to Mike again," he thought.  Their relationship had been strange, as of late.  Ever since that night a month or so ago, the night where he'd fucking choked, they had been oddly and unprofessionally professional.  Conversations lasted a little too long.  Physical contact was manufactured when unecessary, and lasted too long when it was.

There had been kisses, too.  Hesitant, snatched, nothing like what they had shared that night in and after Orchids and Jazz.  Oddly...  Cade missed that.  Was perhaps ready for it, now.

He shook his head, sighing.  Cade still had no idea what he wanted.  Not in the long term, not outside of his job.  Right now, however, what he wanted was to fix the internal sensors.  Pouring the espresso into his cup, he carried it to the desk.  Cade kicked up his feet, grabbed the PADD, and proceeded to compare data to try to find out just exactly how the sensors go quite so fucked up int he first place.


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Re: A Lovelace Ordinary
« Reply #14 on: December 19, 2009, 12:48:18 pm »
|Kepler Station
|MD1, 1100

Hoping to deflect the boy's curiosity, because he wouldn't lie to him, the sergeant asked, "Are you interested in wood carving?"

"Sure," Pili started inspecting it more closely. "Wood, stone, clay...I'll work with just about anything. It's great to get to pour yourself out into something tangible, isn't it? It's really therapeutic for me." He reached out and ran a finger along the cheekbone. "Are you going for a certain mood or emotion?"

"More trying to get rid of some," Ling replied without thinking.  "Love, I guess."  He stopped himself at the last second before saying more.  You have to be careful around him, Ling.

"So tell me what tangibles you usually use for therapy," Ling said, concentrating on getting the left ear exactly as it was in life, shaving away the tiniest fractions of wood here and there.  He was embarrassed at how clearly every feature of Mike's body stayed in his mind.  Maybe this isn't going to work, either, he almost despaired.

"Well," Pili was watching Ling closely. The emotions pouring off him were almost physically painful to the younger man. "I paint a lot, that and writing helped a lot after my Father died. Sculpting like this is good, too. It helps to have something that immediate to do with my hands. Music can be good for catharsis, but when I really need something to just wring me out, I dance." He wanted to reach out to this man, but he hesitated. Not everyone was like him; not everyone got reassurance like that.

Ling continued to work on the carving, trying to get the inner ear exactly the way  he remembered.  My tongue could judge, he thought with a sad half-smile. Listening to Pili was easy, and he forgot to guard his words.  "Your dad needs something like that," he said.  "He's still dealing with the death of Lonus, in a way."

"Yeah, he..." Pili stopped and stared at Ling. "You know my Dad?" And apparently pretty well...who are you? There'd been another stab of pain from Ling. Pili looked back to the bust. Now that he knew what he was looking at, it was obvious. "That's...that's him, isn't it?"

Dessan looked up at Pili, meeting his eyes, which were so much like his dad's.  "Yes, I know your dad.  I had hoped to meet you, too.  He talks ... talked about you a lot ... on Acheron.  I was assigned to keep him safe."  He looked back at the carving.  "At least I did that."

He held the half-finished carving out to Pili.  "What do you think?" he asked.

Pili looked down and ran a hand down the jaw line, thinking. "He...hasn't talked about much of anything from Acheron. I thought it was because of that lady who died, the archaeologist, but I was wrong, wasn't I? It was you?" He looked back up to the Marine, determined to finally find out what the hell had happened on Acheron.

Ling was silent for a minute.  He hadn't meant to get into this with Mike's son, but he wasn't going to lie to him.  "I don't know.  Not for sure.  Probably."  He sighed.  "It's complicated. Your dad ...... Mike was the best thing that ever happened to me, and I blew it.  That's the short version.  If I could go back ... but you never can."  He sighed and looked off into the trees.  "Life doesn't give do-overs."

"That explains..." Pili narrowed his eyes. "Don't be so sure. He thinks he can hide things from me, but he's not nearly as good as he thinks. When he got back, he was different ...sad, and hurt, and lonely. I thought it was that lady that died reminding him of losing ...well, it just felt familiar. I thought that was all it was, but now..." He reached out and put his hand on Ling's arm. He didn't intrude or pry, but he did share a little of his own inner calm.

Arboretum JP, Part 3 brought to you by:

Pili Freitas-Drune
Perceptive Teen

Played by:

Ensign Makani Freitas
Acting Chief Science Officer

« Last Edit: December 19, 2009, 12:50:27 pm by Ling Dessan »