Greying For Broz - Part I

Posted on Thursday, 21 May 2020 - 4:56pm by Commander DeVala Victrix Ph.D & Lieutenant T'Lanna Vali
Edited on on Thursday, 21 May 2020 - 4:56pm

Mission: Operation: Recall
Location: USS Fontana | Deck 2 | Transporter Room 1
Timeline: MD 6 | MD 7

Lieutenant Commander Victrix navigated her way through the starship with only the issued lantern affixed to her forearm. It was the one piece of Federation technology she was using as she made her way to Transporter Room 1, having to use other means of getting there as various systems were being shut down, the warp core included.

When she reached the transporter room, she used the manual override to open the doors. It was strange being in the dark aboard her own starship with very minimal power. She waited for Rhydian and T'Lanna to arrive, dressed in their Romulan best.

T’Lanna arrived next, she smiled as she greeted Victrix. “Well that was a weird experience, walking through the ship with no power and lights. It’s almost creepy!”

"Oh I will call a spade a spade, Lieutenant," Victrix replied when the woman arrived. "That was pretty damn creepy to me. I have been in simulations that were less creepier than that. I just felt like something was watching me the whole time I moved about, and it did not help things that are already skeletal crew is missing several members of the crew on their shuttle and runabout missions" added the Commanding Officer. "The cadet is probably enjoying this" she added.

T’Lanna grinned. “He puts me in mind of being someone who’d enjoy this kind of scenario. Me ... I’m more of a lights on, being able to see where you’re going kind of person.”

Postings from the computer core had been streamed for the better part of an hour. He'd initiated the subroutine from the bridge while guiding the ship into the moon's ring system. For most it was likely nerve wracking, icy asteroids colliding with one another loudly outside the ship without any dampeners to dull the noise out. To make matters worse, the lights were out with all but the bare minimum of the crew. Part of the cadet wished the emergency holograms could see this, but they too were offline. Most everything other than life support was.

He navigated through the labyrinthal network of jefferies tubes, hoping to get to the transporter room at an appropriate time. Doing so in proper Romulan attire was easier said than done, particularly given he'd taken up the faux mantle of an ambassador - tenet pauldrons and all. Which were snagging. But at least it made the appearance more authentic.

Opaline eyes and veins literally aglow in the tenebrous corridors, he'd already heard at least one person shriek out of alarm, following him turning the corner. Reassuring them it was only part of his physiology, he helped the younger crewman on their way.

At last passing into the all-but-abandoned transporter room, he noticed two silhouettes chattering amongst one another, torches lit. "Good evening," he offered in part. "I trust we're all ready? Studied up on a bit of Romulan I hope?"

"Jolan Tru," replied Victrix. She held back the natural instinct to smile. She looked at the cadet. "You look awfully like a creature of the night."

“Tivh faerla Klivamsu (translation: It's Greek to me)” T’Lanna smiled as she gazed at her companions. “Looks like we’re all pretty versed on our Romulan covers. I just hope we don’t need more than the basics for conversation.”

Rhydian perked an eyebrow triggered by the comment as he was assessed. "I can translate if needbe. I'm familiar with all three major dialects. Not perfect, but the language is similar enough to my own that I can pick out the primary elements." Looking over to the psychologist he vaguely bowed prior to assuming the transporter console.

"I am uncertain how nocturnal lifeforms pertain to our current situation. We are not in the wild. Yet." He looked the two over as his palms briefly engaged the console's reserve power. "I've preprogrammed the ship to respond to a remote signal. We have no more than two hours before the reserve energy will expire. After which we will need to hope someone is smart enough to reboot the sensors and beam us out, if we linger. I would advise against that."

“I have no wish to linger any longer than is absolutely necessary.” T’Lanna looked at both her companions in turn as she spoke. “I don’t plan to end up somebody’s supply of Borg parts. From what I’m told there’s a market for them these days.”

Lieutenant Commander Victrix remembered informing Vali of that. "Yes, sadly that is true. There's a black market for just about anything you can imagine. It just gets deeper and darker the more you think about it. Mugato pelts and horns are a rare commodity that carries a hefty price at those markets, and unfortunately the slave trade is still very much alive and well in areas where the syndicate have a presence" added Victrix. "I did my dissertation on the ramifications of potential Federation applicancy of worlds with active slave trades, under the assumption the Federation was foolish enough to grant admittance of course."

T’Lanna nodded. “I’ll admit I’ve never really had much contact with other ex-b’s, I only ever met one other during my recuperation and reintroduction to society. I spent most of my time back with my father between visits to Starfleet medical for removal of my implants. It was decided best to remove them in stages, save me the trauma of having them all removed at once.”

Victrix nodded "A prudent course of action," replied Victrix. She could only imagine how difficult it was to slowly be brought back into a society, to regain a sense of individuality. "Finding an ex-b in Starfleet these days is like finding a Ferengi who is charitable and willing to give everything away, including the shirt off his back. After the Synthetic attack, the Federation and Starfleet started to yank them from service, retire some, find the incident reports on others, and use whatever they could to justify removal of rank and immediate discharge. You, were one of the few lucky ones."

T’Lanna nodded. “Probably because of my father, he has friends in high places. I’ve worked hard to get where I am now, I always told him that I didn’t want him interfering with my career, but on that occasion alone I was grateful. I don’t know what I’d have done otherwise. If my father had his way I’d be living on Vulcan, being a dutiful daughter.” She shook her head. “That’s not me!”

"If my mother had her way, I would be shadowing her for a great political career and likely in the Diplomatic Corps" DeVala Victrix replied, sharing a bit of her life. "She's an Ambassador and she has no qualms about letting anyone know that. In a way, I suspect she has had some involvement in orchestrating my civilian career after I was done with Starfleet. She would be displeased knowing I'm in uniform again."

“My father is an Admiral, he’s currently based at Starfleet Headquarters. He sponsored my entry into Starfleet but as I’m sure you know living under a shadow isn’t much fun. Hence why I’ve tried to carve my own little niche and earn my position through hard work.”

Victrix nodded and looked over at Rhydian. I know you probably do not want me to mention your mother Victrix thought. She had remembered how bad comedy night was and felt she would spare the young man of this topic. "Alright, then let's get these charades out of the way and make it back safe and sound" the woman said as she ascended the transporter pad. "Cadet, I'll be relying on your translation skills as well as being the time keeper. Make sure we don't 'linger on," added the Commanding Officer.

She yielded to the Cadet to do the honors. His technical prowess was superior to her own. She took no issue admitting that.

Ignoring the banter exchanged between the pair of women, Rhydian quietly worked under swift pressure to allocate small portions of the reserve energy. He read under transparent glow of the hologram emitted from his wrist mount, calibrating transporter sensors. His own alertness was on edge as he patiently waited for the planet to rotate to just the right angle before ushering the remainder of the part to the beaming pad.

He offered little more than an affirmative nod to the additional order shot his way, focusing on the remainder of settings required to program their safe departure and return.

"It will be mid-day upon arrival, during low-tide. Most of the planet's inhabitants will be resting, however awake, if our databanks are correct. I suggest we get in, get what you need, then out."

Briskly moving away from the console, he slapped a monitoring beacon to the edge of it before arriving on the pad with the others. "Energising."