[USS Chimera] SD 240906.20 || Duty Log || MCapt Channer Davis ||

<<OOC: This log contains alcohol use and minor 'suggestive' themes.  Not pivotal to read if you don't want to, just establishing character.>>

[VIP Quarters - Starbase UNITY]

Channer woke with a start.  Beads of sweat fell from his head as he bolted upright in his bed.  Taking his usual thirteen second sweep of his immediate surroundings, checking corners first then working inward, he deemed that yes, it had been yet another nightmare.  He exhaled, and visibly relaxed in the quite comfortable bed.  Sitting back just a bit, he began trying to remember how he had gotten there, and whose leg was draped across him.  First, he had been on the Franklin, en-route to UNITY.

* * *

"Captain, don't forget your duffle!" 

"Got it," Channer said dryly, waving the over-eager Lieutenant off, and indicated the duffle strapped securely over his shoulder.

"So, stay in touch?" he asked with a little too much enthusiasm to Channer's back as he walked through the airlock onto the promenade.  Making another attempt at professionalism, the pilot stook out his hand.  "It was an honor to fly for you, sir, and I greatly enjoyed your stories."

Channer had an uncharacteristic twinge of guilt as he turned, shook the man's hand, and agreed; all without remembering his first name.  "Sure thing, L.T."

First on his agenda was a whiskey.  Cooped up in a shuttle for a day and a half with a proud member of the Dominion War Veterans Honoring Squad was enough to drive anyone to alcoholism.  The promenade was clean, but Davis had hopes of finding a nice, quiet spot to have a nice, quiet drink.  He started off in search of just such an establishment.

Pausing at the holodecks, he considered renting one for a run, but decided he wasn't up for exercise.  Just the drink.  Davis passed the arboretum, various merchant shops offering a wide range of treats and trinkets, the Quartermaster's promenade station, and a Security office before he found it.  Bluenote Bar offered jazz and blues, comfortable seating, and (most importantly) imported Jameson whiskey, with an H.

Ordering a bottle, and taking a seat with a clear view of all the exits out of habit, he poured the amber liquid into a shotglass.  Channer looked down at his drink, and swirled it, causing a minute amount to spill out onto his thumb.  Raising his glass to the band as he had no one to drink with, he tapped the shot on the table, then threw it back in one gulp.  The pungent taste of the alcohol hit him at first, filling his throat and nostrils with a burn like no other.  Then the syrup-like sweetness of the drink doused the fire.  At the very last, the spiced wood barrel in which the drink had been distilled provided a rush of warmth to his entire body.

Davis poured one after the other, drinking to friends lost and battles won, enjoying the soft, swank sounds of the muted jazz trumpets.  Jaron, his best mate.  Jem'Hadar had taken him.  Gerry, the first kid he had trained had been in a runabout when a warship decided to start knocking off defenseless opponents.  His ex-wife, knocked up when he got back; knocked up by his then superior officer what's more.  War was so pointless.  But here he was, in another one.  Eyeing the bottle for the first time since he started pouring, Channer suddenly realized with a sinking feeling that he had about twenty minutes to get to bed.  Bottle was two-thirds empty.  He stood and left, leaving the rest of his bottle with some Security guys.

The quartermaster's promenade office was staffed with a young, blonde Lieutenant that looked about his type.  Always good to make nice with the person who was in charge of how big your quarters are.  The concave office with a long table that struck out into the promenade for dispensing had a total of four desks, indicating that she was the only one that had been stuck working the grave.  She looked completely and utterly bored.  Channer sauntered over to her desk, a mental countdown on how long before the whiskey hit him running.  Would have to work fast.

"Excuse me, ma'am."

She turned to face him, but didn't smile.  "Good evening, Captain.  What can I do for you?"

He hid a smile.  "My first time on the station, awaiting deployment in a day or so.  Not sure where I'm supposed to bunk.  Figured you would be the lady to talk to."

She nodded.  "I'd be the Lieutenant, yes.  What's your name and deployment?  They may have already registered you some quarters," she explained, grabbing a PADD then looking up expectantly at him. 

"Davis, Channer.  Chief of Security, USS Chimera." 

With eyebrows raised, she input this into her PADD, and it beeped negative.  "Seems they were a bit too occupied to have made the usual niceties."

"What a shame," he said with a smile.  "Think you can find me something?"

"Standard procedure is assign you a guest suite or give you a crew bunk.  Let me see if I can find anything."

"Okay," he said nodding.  "Or you could book us a VIP suite for a night, and we could get your vacation started right."  His voice was deadpan, and he didn't flinch when she looked up with wide, glaring eyes.

"Excuse me?  How dare you?!  I don't know what vacation you're talking about.."

"Yes, you do.  Everyone gets the 'leave jitters.'  Work like mad so you can get done early and take off.  Work ahead to impress your senior into giving you an extra day.  How about it?  Do something crazy, then go off with your girls?" he suggested again, indicating the empty desks where he correctly assumed they usually sat.

"Absolutely not.  This is... way out of line.  You want to get me fired?"  Hesitation.  That's good.

"Of course not, I just want to give you a jump start on your relaxing.  And my last night here on the station.. all alone in a crew bunk?  Before I go to war?" 

"I'm sorry.. but that's the way it's going to be."

Channer started to think this wasn't going anywhere, but his liquid courage egged him on to try one more time. 

"Well, if you don't want to, I understand.  Nothing to brag to your girls about, because you were too scared to take the plunge."

She bit her lip.  He had hit a nerve.  Sometimes, you just had to appeal to a woman's desire to brag.  "There's an unoccupied Admiral's chamber up three floors..."

Channer grinned.

* * *

Davis pushed the leg off of him and got out of bed, went to the lavatory, and washed off his rough face.  He would have to shave if he was going to meet his CO today.  Run first.  He went back into the enormous room, and turned to see that Lietuenant Michelle Burnside had woken up and turned to face him.  The honesty in her eyes made him uncomfortable.

"Will you comm sometime?" she asked.

"Absolutely."  Not.

Channer walked out into the corridor, the lighting still set to dim in observation of station morning time, and decided to get ready.  His first real post since his recall.. he would want to be ready.



=/\=
M. Capt Channer Davis
Chief of Security
USS Chimera
=/\=

[USS Chimera] SD: 240906.20 Joint Duty Log, Capt. Cropa Rojac/MCapt. Anya Xerxes, CO/FOCO

[Ready Room - Deck One - USS Chimera NCC 96899-C]

Anya pressed the chime and entered the doorway "Captain Xerxes reporting as ordered Captain."  She gave a stiff salute and was perhaps a bit anxious about what was to come.  Not necessarily about her actions themselves but about the procurement of the 'Puppetmaster' programme itself.

The Captain stood and returned the salute when he saw it was his Squadron Commander at the door. "Captain Xerxes," He greeted her, "please have a seat." He gestured to the seat in front of his desk, and then moved to take his own as she approached. "We have much to discuss. Would you care for a beverage?" He offered in hospitality.

She took the proffered seat and shook her head "No thank you Captain on the drink and yes I think we do have a lot to discuss."  {I'll bet it won't start with the top agenda}.

Once the Captain receive his own beverage from the replicator behind his desk his swiveled in his chair back toward Captain Xerxes. Before he took a sip of his coffee he asked for a brief mission report. "I read your initial report, Captain." He said. "But if you would clarify some points for me. What were the Breen defenses like around the base?"

"Technology wise hard to tell sensors don't work very well down in the soup but if I had to guess more of the same that was on Antigonis possibly with a minor edge in firepower.  What was interesting though was the numbers and positioning of the defenses.  The anti-air and anti-orbital weapons were too numerous and positioned oddly.  It seemed like whoever planned out the defenses wasn't used to how to set them up and each individual weapons value nor were important buildings more heavily guarded.  Point in case the base defences primary control room didn't have any short range anti-air artillary surrounding it.   It's more of a hunch than anything solid but the defenses may have been arranged symbolically, I've got my guys running checks against anything in the archaeology and anthropology databases."   Anya replied.

Rojac didn't say anything at first, but only nodded in acknowledgment. After a moment or two he looked back up from the top of his desk and lowered his hands into his lap. "Have them look in the direction of the Sitiva site, Captain." Rojac said. After a pause he elaborated. "The latest report from the studies on the alien held on UNITY show that remarkably similar images of the creatures have appeared on the murals along the walls of the ruins. DNA tests are underway to conclusively link them to the site."

"Sitiva...that's well within Federation borders.  If they have a legitimate claim that could explain their willingness to side with the Romulans and Breen and also substantiates the information given by Ambassador Alecto regarding the alien on Narendra.  Do the murals give any specific information on the aliens themselves?" Anya asked.

"The inscriptions along the walls describe these creatures in a mysterious way." Rojac said. "The translator converts the script to call them 'Muhareem' or 'the Whisperers'. They believe Sativa to be a sacred site. Which should make it a prime place to study the symbology."

"I'll pass on any information to science that my guys find and they can research it further...who would have thought that I of all people would miss Chimera-B's Cultural Anthropology Lab?"  Anya quipped.

Rojac put his arms atop the desk and leaned forward. "So tell me about the scorpion squadron, Captain. I've read some troubling reports. I'm not complaining about the results; I'm just worried about what Mr. Lanner has described as an 'Erassian Program' that took over the craft at the last crucial moments of the dogfight." He paused a beat. "What is it and how did it get there?"

"Each type of Erassian Alliance Military Ship is designed to fufil just two primary roles unlike their counterparts in the Federation which try to specialise in everything.  The Intelligence Gathering Warships (IGWs) specialise in Stealthed Reconnaisance and collecting Signals Intelligence.  The Starfighter Carrier Warships (SCWs) specialise in providing Forward Command & Control plus large scale Fighter & Bomber Launch Facilities. The Destroyer Class Warships (DCWs) specialise in Stealthed Ambush and being able to provide Heavy Forward Defense to blunt enemy attacks before they reach the more valuable Cruisers and Carriers.  Finally the Cruiser Class Warships (CCWs) specialise in providing extensive Short and Medium Range Defenses for the Carriers plus Long Range Artillery Support for forward units."  Anya paused.

Thank you for the lesson in Erassian ship design." Rojac smirked, then gestured with his hand. "Please, continue."

Anya continued "The problem arose just over thirty years ago when the Alliance started to bring in the first of the Fourth Generation Cruisers.  At that point the range of the missiles far outstripped the ability of the Cruiser's sensors to accurately aim them.  Two solutions were floated both of which are in operation to this day.  The first option was to create autonomous weapons that once given the general coordinates would search, prioritize and destroy targets.  That gave rise to the T.H.U.D's, Drone Interceptors, Hive Bombs or {C.F's as they're known amongst pilots} and numerous other highly effective weapons.  The second solution was to use the sensors of the forward units themselves to provide precise coordinates essentially the same principle as the ODA teams on the surface of Canna III lazing the Anti-Proton Towers for my Lancers.  Now when it came to linking the Cruiser's Artillery with fighters they had a problem, fighter movement proved too unpredictable to utilize the system safely.  Fast forward to years later and I'm designing the AX-02 Lancer dealing with penny pinching bureaucrats constantly complaining about the Lancer Project taking too much resources, requiring too much classified research access and being run by someone of what they considered to be a lesser background.  Any request for further resources to develop better anti-ship weaponry was turned down without even looking over the proposals.  In turn I looked at creating a system to allow sensor data to be channeled from the Lancers on the frontline to bombers or capital ships further away to allow them to make shots beyond standard torpedo targeting range,  the more I looked at the system the more I became sure I could get it to work for anti-fighter attacks.  How then to overcome the problem of unpredictable fighter movement?  Simple, make it predictable."

Rojac smirked and leaned back into his chair. It was obvious that Xerxes was into this development of technology, and he wondered if she wold have been better off with a job at R&D. But then he thought she might go crazy without being able to shoot down a few Romulan fighters every now and then. And she might end up shooting the other scientists instead, he thought.

"The still unfinished programme is called 'Puppetmaster'.  To make Puppetmaster you take one blank Last Generation Military Grade Erassian Pilot Support AI illegally obtained on the black market, reprogram it with hive behavioral functionality developed in the Federation by scientists studying the Borg whilst removing any spyware then add in parameters for the craft and weaponry along with control codes for the craft then install it into a state of the art fighters with an advanced computer core and bio-neural gel circuitry.  Puppetmaster is set up to create precise positional and timing conditions which allow for missiles to be deployed to exact coordinates without having to get a sensor lock on the enemy whilst simultaneusly ensuring the enemy is lured into those exact coordinates and allied units are not.  Puppetmaster only acts to create the desired scenario when given an executive order and not at any other time.  Contrary to what Lieutenant Lanner thinks it's not an Erassian Programme, in reality its about as Erassian as the Lancers themselves are...one minor component and a lot of inspiration."  Anya shrugged as she said the last bit.

"I can understand Mr. Lanner's reservations though, Captain, when the emblem for the Erassian Alliance flashes on his screen and he no longer has control of his craft." Again, Rojac rested his arms atop his desk - he just couldn't find a comfortable position. He must've been sitting in his office too long. "So what about the Scorpions made you decide to use this program?"

Anya nodded at the prompt "The appearance of the Scorpion II's within the Alliance was to be expected.  It fits in with expected developments after the Romulans deployed their new Assault Fighters against us.  What was surprising was how advanced the Scorpion II really is and how good the Romulan Pilots were.  In fact they were too good which was why I gave them a Collington test.  That squadron was recieving remote telepathic guidance from somewhere though judging by the timing and the distance I'd say unlikely to be from the planet, more likely there was another Muhareem or something similar on board one of those troop transports.  That was another reason I implomented Puppetmaster...you can't telepathically read a machine." 

"Another Muhareem..." Rojac almost whispered. "Those damn things are turning up everywhere. Have you informed anyone else of these suspicions?" 

"No Sir, I want to see if we can get my suspicions verified independently."  Anya replied.

"Then we need to gt on the line with Colonel Hendricks as soon as possible. Preferably before his people board the disabled troop transports." Rojac said, quickly swiveling toward the communications console on the wall behind him. LtCmdr Montesque's face appeared on the screen. +Yes, Captain?+

"Mr. Montesque, get me a secure line to Colonel Hendricks." Rojac ordered.

+One moment, sir+ The communications officer replied before disappearing off the screen. Rojac turned around once more to face Anya. "Command is going to want to review this program once we get back to UNITY. Make a copy, and put it on an isolinear chip to present to when we arrive. And find some legal counsel." Rojac said. "I trust you, Captain, but you know as well as I that there are some in Starfleet that doubt your allegiance. I'll do what I can to protect you on my end, but you'll need a lawyer."

"I'll consider who to obtain for legal advice.  Unfortunately there's no such thing as a lawyer I trust."  She said.  Anya knew what the standard response Prometheus would adapt but they would probably wait till the Starfleet ships departed.  Even now the Alliance doubted the Federation  had the stomach to do what was necessary to win the war.

"Send me a copy of the program and your report before we dock." Rojac said.

"Aye Captain" Came the swift reply.

+Captain,+ Montesque's face appeared behind the Captain on the monitor. +I have him.+

"Patch him through." Rojac replied. As the screen went blank he looked back to Xerxes, "You're dismissed, Captain."

Anya snapped a salute, performed an about turn and exited the room.

"Colonel Hendricks," Rojac said as the door shut behind her, "I have some troubling news for you."

[End Log]

Captain Cropa Rojac
CO
USS Chimera - C

Marine Captain Anya Xerxes
Flight Ops CO
USS Chimera - C

---

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[USS Chimera] SD 240906.20 | Quorum Space | Joint Log, Cmdr Summers (1TF Med) & Romulans

= Padassa Trading Station - Quorum Space (Romulan Annexed) =

The time passed slowly and Liev didnt return.
At one point there were sounds of movement outside and Rangi
had jumped to her feet expecting the door to open but it
didnt.
She stood next to it,her head turned to one side as she
leaned against it listening.
There were voices though some distance away but she couldnt
make out what they said and after half a minute, they faded
away.

Rangi gave up listening and returned to the small platform
where she sat down and leaned back against the wall where
despite her uncomfortable position and worrying thoughts,
she fell into a fitful sleep.
It was broken when, without warning, the door opened and
Rangi, regaining her senses, saw three figures.

A female Romulan entered and looked disdainfully at Rangi.
"Get up," she said brusquely and the guards didn't hesitate
to help Rangi to her feet.

They grasped her arms and began to move towards the door,
the female standing to one side as they passed through.
"Where are you taking me?" Rangi demanded, casting a look
over her shoulder but following the female as she walked
past.

"Interrogation," the Romulan replied. "But first, medical
services."

The guards followed the woman, propelling Rangi along the
corridor at a fast pace.

"Where is my son?" she asked. " What have you done with
him?" but none of them answered and she succeeded only in
having the guards tighten their hold when she tried to
struggle.

They came to the end of the corridor and a small turbo lift
which decended one floor. When they emerged, it was only a
short distance to a double door which the woman opened and
stood aside as before until Rangi and the guards were safely
inside.

The room was brightly lit and obviously a clinical room of
some sort. In the centre of it stood a padded chair with
restraining straps on the arms and legs and Rangi knew her
fears were justified.

"Secure her," the woman said and the guards pulled Rangi
towards the chair.

Her struggles were in vain and although she resisted as best
as could, her strength was nothing compared to the two
Romulans. They lifted her onto the chair where the
restraints were quickly attached. One of the guards pressed
his hand against her neck, forcing her head back and a metal
band clicked into place under her jaw  so tightly that she
had trouble breathing.

When she was successfully strapped in, the Romulan woman
raised the chair upwards. She moved behind the chair and
swabbed the base of Rangi's neck with a liquid that stung
slightly through an opening in headrest. Just then the voice
of a Romulan manned called the woman and there was an
audible sigh as she put the equipment she was holding back
onto the tray with a clang.

"I'll return shortly," she said to Rangi and then addressed
the two guards in Rihannsu before leaving the room.

Rangi flexed her limbs straining them against the straps but
she could not move and her head too was pinned imobile to
the chair. From the corner of her eye she could see part of
the metal tray and some of the equipment it held.

"Please.." she said in an almost whisper and one guard said
something to the other who laughed then stepped forward to
the trolley.

He pushed it forward a little so that she could see the
intruments fully. In the centre of the tray was an exact
copy of the device she had seen implanted into Liev's neck.

= End Log =

Commander Rangi Summers
Medical Advisor
1st Task Force, SSF
-
Romulan NPC's
[NPCs by Bren]

[USS Chimera] SD 240906.20 | Quorum Space | Back Log, Nicolas Harker & Martin Guzman

OOC: This is a back log... it takes place before Muma's log in which Shane is contacted on the Qashqai by Harker.

= Padassa Trading Station - Quorum Space (Romulan Annexed) =

Martin knelt on the window seat and gazed out but there was nothing to see and he sighed. He was getting bored and climbing down from the seat, he wandered across the room to the computer.

Harker had brought him to the room after their meal was finished, explaining that Martin was to have a room of his own. Harker spoke as though that was an exciting thing and had promised Martin that there was something really good waiting there. It turned out to be nothing more than a computer with a few games.

Harker had seemed very enthusiastic about it and had offered to play a game, challenging Martin. The game was simple and, Martin thought, somewhat childish. He had won every level though he suspected that Harker had allowed him to win for the man had made some silly mistakes and had, Martin thought, feigned surprise that he had been beaten once again and showered the child in praise.

Now Martin sat down at the terminal and switched it on. He ignored the game that Harker had been so keen on and scrolled through the list available. A smile spread across his face and he selected a new one.

A few minutes later Nicolas peered into the room and found Martin sitting at the terminal. "Hello, Martin," he said as he greeted the little boy. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

Martin looked over his shoulder. "I'm playing this." he said, returning his attention to the screen when he saw that Harker was alone.

"What is it that you've found there," Harker asked as he came closer.
 
Martin paused the game and as Harker leaned down to look closely at the game, Martin saw him frown. "When is mummy coming?" he demanded. " I want to see her."

"Mummy is busy talking with some people at the moment," Nicolas explained. "Maybe she can come visit after she's done."  Looking closer at the game, he asked, "Is that the Starship Simulator?"

Martin scowled for this was not the answer he wanted. At home, even when Rangi was very busy, she always had time to see him or speak to him at least, no matter what else demanded her time. He glanced back at the screen where a Starship was frozen in the act of firing an array of photon torpedos.

"That's quite a difficult game," Harker said, rubbing his chin. "I  used to love playing it when I was your age." There was an interruption as the door opened and a Romulan entered, wishing
to speak to Nicolas. "I'll be right back," he said to Martin.

The child suffered the indignity of having his head patted by simply hunching his shoulders and when Harker walked away, Martin continued the game, successfully hitting the enemy ship but not enough to destroy it. With great concentration he tapped in a persuit course and was rewarded by getting the ship back in his sight.

A few moments later Nicolas returned and looked at Martin. "How would you like to go for a trip in a real starship? You can sit with me on the bridge," he coaxed.

Martin swivelled round on his chair, forgetting to pause the game. " A real ship?" he asked guardedly. " ..you mean like my Daddys?" he added as sounds of destruction sounded from the game.

"Yes... a real ship," Nicolas said, an eery smile forming in the corners of his mouth.

Martin glanced back at the screen, now full of spinning debris.

"...and I can sit in the XO place?" he asked looking back at Harker who nodded. Martin considered it then slid down off his chair. " Ok" he said.

He held out his hand to Martin. "Come, I'll take you."

= End Log =


Martin Guzman
Civilian
[NPC by Rangi]
-
Nicolas Harker
Federation Defector
Romulan Star Empire
[NPC by Bren]