"Never gonna believe this one!"

Posted on Mon Nov 26, 2012 @ 7:54pm by Fleet Captain Rhea Kennit & Lieutenant Samantha Raylen & Lieutenant Commander Miguel Torres

5,264 words; about a 26 minute read

Mission: Refit and Reorganization
Location: U.S.S. Victory - Engineering
Timeline: 62349.804 {Thu, 27 Sep 2384 13:47}

Engineering

For the last several hours, Lt. Sam Raylen had been working on solving a little mystery. Someone had managed to hack a low-security onboard system and trigger a computer prank which set off a personal alarm with a rather annoying little loop feature added..

She had three tasks to complete. One, find out who did it. Two, find out how they did it. And three, fix the system so that no one could do it again!

Whoever it was had covered his (or her) tracks well. It was tricky, unraveling the convoluted lines of code used to mask the hacker's identity and isolate the terminal access point which had been used to upload the virus that had then installed the snip of code which had been responsible for accomplishing the prank..

Picking up her coffee mug, she sipped from the iced tea inside she watched as line after line of data being analysed by the tracking program she'd written which would, hopefully, decipher the twisted virus code and identify the culprit. Preferably before the Captain came down to Engineering personally to get an explanation as to why they hadn't already caught the troublemaker..

The display suddenly stopped, an amber indicator light flashing for amoment and then.. "Son of a bitch..." Eyes wide, she stared at the user id code which gave away the identity of the culprit.

"Raylen to Torres." she said, after tapping her comm badge. "We've got an ident on the prankster.. and you are not going to believe who it is.."

Miguel had been overseeing an alignment issue with the Dilithium crystals for the last several hours. Nothing serious, just one of a thousand things that needed to be taken care of before launch. But he was returning to the computer terminal where he had left Raylen earlier. "No need to use the combadge I'm here. What you got?" he asked her getting right to the point.

"I've got our prankster.." she told him with a quick glance over her shoulder. "And you're not going to believe who it is.. T'Cael himself.. some kind of sick idea of a joke I guess.."

Miguel still didn't know most of the crew, but that name did sound familiar. "Wasn't that the person that first reported it?" he asked as he said as he began to look at the data seeing what was on the screen. "Well at least that explains how he was able to hide the code so well." he added.

"Do you want to contact Security and the Captain or do you want me to do it?" Raylen asked. "I'm pulling the evidence to a data file now.." she added.

"Go ahead and alert security, I'll inform the Captain." he said patting her on the back "Good job Raylen." he said as he turned around and made his way to the turbolift.

Captain's Ready Room

Earlier that day, prior to the discovery of a problem child among her crew, a message had arrived from Starfleet HQ which contained the orders for the Victory's first official duty cruise following the two-year long refit which had kept the ship here at SB900 for so long. Reading through the mission directive, to be honest the only thing Katrijn found coming to mind was..

Boring.

The assigned flight path kept them within explored territory, presumably to allow the ship and crew to perform a full shakedown after 2 years in spacedock and so many new personnel coming aboard. It was not unexpected, and under the circumstances it made sense to give the ship's crew time to familiarize themselves with the ship's systems and in working with one another.

Even so...

Boring.

So much unexplored territory out there.. She sighed. Ah well.. the unexplored regions weren't going anywhere.. There would be time for exploration and discovery..

The comm chimed then, drawing her thoughts from internal musings and back to the present. "Kennit here. Go ahead." she said after thumbing the comm control on the desk.

"Captain we have located our prankster." he told her as he was in the turbolift. The doors then opened and he made his way to the ready room. Once there he pressed the chime. He hated giving reports over the com channel.

Captain's Ready Room

Hearing the door chime, she called out "Enter!"

Miguel walked in and walked up to her desk and smiled as he noticed the suprise on her face that he was there. "As I was saying we have our joker. One of my engineers, over the last few hours backtracked the little bastard." he told her and then handed her the padd which had all of the details they had uncovered as well as the individual's identity.

Accepting the padd from his hand, the moment she saw the identification signature of the person responsible for the little hiccup in their ship's security systems the Captain said "Are you fucking kidding me?!"

To say that she was angry.. would have been quite the understatement as she rose from her seat, eyes dark with irritated fury. "Kennit to Bishop! I want T'Cael found and placed under arrest.. yesterday.. do you get my meaning?" she ordered.

Tags Bishop?

"Computer! Remove all authorization access codes for Lt. T'Cael, authorization Kennit 31 Delta." she snapped out, effectively setting the computer so that not only would no computer systems on the ship allow the Vulcan access to the computer, the doors wouldn't open for him either.

"I want that damned fool under arrest, off my ship and turned over to Starfleet Security under charges of tampering with top level security computer systems, placing this ship and crew into possible danger. I also want every line of code in the system checked and confirmed that he hasn't left any more little 'pranks' behind to cause us headaches.." she growled. (OOC: No further 'pranks' or other issues will be found)

"Lieutenant Raylen is already working on that. I'll also be adding a few extra levels of encryption to keep things like this from happening again." Miguel told her.

"Make certain he's off my ship and in custody within the hour.. I don't have time for such juvenile nonsense.." she said aloud. She also fully intended to send a letter as the Commanding Officer which would recommend T'Cael be released from his obligation as a Starfleet Officer. "We are departing on schedule.." she said. "So lets get this little headache cleared up so that we can focus on more important tasks..."

Ship from Earth to SB900

Horza was sitting on shuttle next to Bajoran women. Somehow it seemed that they always found each other, Bajorans, probably because of their noses, they where visible as candle in the night without stars. Women was old, and as almost everyone didn't see that Horza was half-human. She didn't ask him where his earring was, and Horza was grateful for that, Gods knew that he wouldn't like to explain why he only wears his earring on special occasions. It was something about knowing that he's child of two worlds, and that he'll never belong to any of them. He had it in his bag, personalized earring, made by his grandmother on the day of his birth, it was made of silver with sapphires and small bird of Bajor that represented freedom of spirit.

"Look at it, have you ever seen anything like it?" a woman asked looking through her window to SB900 with ships attached to it. Horza saw his, with a big "Victory" written over it. It will be his doom, but that's what you get when you go through expensive medical education.

"I'm afraid I have not" he admitted. It was something majestic about this scene. Big space station with ships and nothing but space surrounding it, with distant stars flickering distantly in far away systems. Horza would thought of it as majestic if he wasn't so preoccupied with punting.

He was awaken from his day dream by sound of sound of ship connecting to Space Base. He got up and took his bag, and proceeded to exit.

"Good luck child" women wished him, he thanked and proceeded through exit. He was already late, it took two more day's to get here then anticipated, and Horza hated to be late more than he had to be. Navigating through SB wasn't easy but with stroke of good luck and money given to some Ferengi he was able to find Victory in no time.

Every journey begins with first step and it was his time to take that destined step from SB900 to Victory. Inhale and step, and there he was. Couple of weeks ago he was first year resident and now he is Surgeon with only a week of training with Starfleet. It will be hell.

Captain's Ready Room

He entered turbolift. It was his understanding that he has to report for duty to captain first. So he give computer direction to take him to captain current location. It's not needed to say that he stick out like sore thumb in see of Starfleet officers wearing their uniforms, him being in dress shirt and tie. Nobody gave him an uniform, and he'll be deemed if he ever wore one.

He entered Captain room without waiting for invite, realizing that only when he was already in. Little bit ashamed of himself he looked into Captain direction.

"Doctor Sokolić Horza..." he presented himself in old Bajoran manner like his nose wasn't enough of a clue to his origin. "...reporting for duty...sir"

He wasn't sure if he got everything right, he was unfamiliar with Starfleet procedure.

Turning towards the new arrival, the Captain smiled and took it in stride. "Welcome aboard Doctor," she told him. "And please.. I prefer Captain or ma'am.."

"Yes Captain" Horza repeated making a mental note. He was sure he read somewhere that all senior officers regardless of their sex should be called 'Sir', he must gotten that one wrong.

"I would appreciate if someone could give me tour. I'm afraid that I can't find my way around alone. So someone has to take me by hand and show me my living spaces and surgical ward"

"I can have a yeoman come up from operations and give you a tour, help you find your quarters as well as where Sickbay is located. You can also just access any of the computer access panels which are located throughout the ship in the corridors. Just tell the computer where it is you're trying to get to and the system will display a map with directions to help." the Captain told him.

"I'll just have to use computer then" he said, his lips shaping into insecure smile. It was time to address uniform problem. "There is problem with uniform, ma'am" he paused, taking deep breath. "I wasn't given one, and I don't know what to wear. Usually I would wear my Scrubs, but it's my understanding that they are unsuitable for ship environment. Also I would like to wear official Bajoran symbol on my right side, as I seen some officers in fleet do"

This wasn't easy for Horza to say, and he regretted it because he thought Captain will smack him across his face. She looked like strict women.

Gazing at him, she answered simply "You should be able to replicate a uniform without any issue. If not, the ship's quartermaster will see to it that you're properly outfitted as necessary. And I have no issue with your wearing an official Bajoran symbol so long as you do not forget that this is a Starfleet ship."

"Of coarse ma'am. Thank you for everything. I'll make sure to dress my self properly. If you need me my shift starts in couple of hours, and I'm going to take this time to unpack." bag on his shoulder was harder and harder. It was time to say goodbye. Holza entered ultralift.

"Have a good evening," the Captain told him. "If you find there are any issues with Sickbay let the dockmaster know and we'll do what we can to try and get your request fulfilled prior to departing spacedock.."

Halls of the U.S.S. Victory

Ensign Annabeth Scott made her way through the winding passageways of the Victory with a look of relief. She had had slight trouble finding her way to the U.S.S. Victory as she made her way through the bustling crowds of SB900, and couldn’t help but take a moment to pause in her relief that she was on board and no longer dragging her heavy sea bag through throngs of congestion on the Star Base.

Her pause didn't last long though, as she noticed the busy crewmen moving about the halls as they did last minute diagnostics and logistic support. Not wanting to be in the way she quickly stepped towards the nearest ship map and ran her figure across the black and white markings. It took her longer than it probably should have to find her destination; the main science labs on Deck 5. She readjusted her bag over her shoulder and immediately headed for the lifts.

Deck 5, Main Science Lab

Between the wait for the lift and a wrong turn immediately after, it took Ensign Scott nearly twenty minutes to find herself hesitating at the lab doors. It had just hit her that she was about to enter a real lab, on a real star ship, about to depart on a real mission. The prospect scared her and it was readily apparent on her face, after all this was the first time she would be applying her training in the real world outside of scenarios. A thousand questions and doubts ran through her mind as she contemplated possible means of escape.

But she had reached the point of no return. She took a deep breath to calm herself, adjusted her blue and black uniform top and stepped through the sliding doors. “E-excuse me?” She mentally chided herself for her nervous stammer as she looked around the lab, both impressed and intimidated by the equipment. “I’m Ensign Scott …reporting for duty?” She sounded like she was asking a question more than making a statement.

"Indeed you are!" a ferengi cheerfully congratulated the young Ensign from atop a table where he was putting the finishing touches on hanging a long cloth banner clad with letters in his native language. "You've barely been aboard long, I'd wager, and you're already displaying keen deductive reasoning. That's a very good sign for a promising career in science!" His tone was playfully teasing, but far from condescending, as he hopped from the table and approached her with his hand offered in the customary hoo-mon fashion. "I am Lieutenant Nix, Chief Science Officer. But in the labs you may feel free to simply call me Nix, if you prefer. I find that a relaxed environment promotes the kind of intellectual celerity I wish to foster in the labs. Time is money, so efficiency will be of utmost importance."

Ensign Scott wordlessly shook the lieutenant’s hand while he continued to welcome her and she, somewhat meekly, looked him over. While she couldn't say she found any ferengi particularly attractive he did appear athletic, energetic, and confident. He even seemed to stand taller than she remembered the few others of his species that she had met. And he certainly did seem friendly enough to tease -well, she hoped he was teasing.

He smiled up at the tall woman, his grin revealing a set of teeth which had been cosmetically altered into the blunt dental work typical of near-humans rather than the needle-like maws of his kind. "But please! Come in and lighten your burden," he gestured towards a table where she could rest her bag, then made a sweeping gesture with his arm across the room. "She's not much, but should be sufficient for our needs." Which was putting things gently -- Victory was a Prometheus-class vessel. An Advanced Tactical Escort officially, but anyone with a hint of adult lobes knew a warship when they saw one. And Prometheus-class ships in particular had been designed with heavy automation and minimal crew in mind... actually, it was a miracle this particular one had any dedicated science facilities at all, even if they are just a pair of tiny labs! "Not quite as luxurious as what you'd find on an Intrepid-class, but we'll make the most of it."

Nix ushered her past a transparent partition that separated his office from the lab-proper and hoped back into a chair behind the desk. "Please," he continued to smile as he gestured towards a chair opposite him. "I'm afraid I have not had the time to study your file as the ship's main computer was taken offline for maintenance earlier this morning -- congratulations on finding the labs without the computer's assistance, by the way. If not for the computer's guidance light, I'd probably still be out there circling aimlessly on deck seven right now! But tell me a little about yourself," he made a looping, conversational gesture in the air encouraging the seemingly timid girl to speak. "You are the botanist, yes? Tell me a little about yourself and how I am going to profit by having you on my team," he grinned and folded his hands together, eager for her response.

Ensign Scott took the seat that was motioned to, seeming a little more relaxed from the ferengi’s cheerful demeanor, but feeling dizzy at the speed of his speech as she searched for a reply. “I’m proficient in botany, zoology, and biology ranging from anatomy to genetics, as well as a working knowledge of chemistry, math, and the other subjects required for the practice of, well, Biology.” Her speech was calm and level but she nervously shifted her weight as she sat on the chair. The ferengi’s way of rewording everything in terms of profit and expense had taken her by surprise.

She couldn't help but glance at the lab through the transparent partition for a split second, as if it held some secret answer that only she could see, before turning back to her superior. “These are my first orders, but I have extensive lab experience, managed a decent grade point average, and am a quick study.” she added. At this point she was simply reiterating facts that were true of every star fleet science officer upon graduation, but she was focused on making a good first impression. “I’ve had an interest in biology since primary school, and I’ve applied myself to its study ever since… I guess you could say it’s a passion of mine.” She lightly chewed the inside of her lower lip, rolling the gum line between sharp incisors; a nervous habit that she had never managed to break.

Nix sat and listened to the young ensign's responses, his bald head nodding politely where appropriate. She seemed competent enough on the surface, although her words didn't tell him anything the uniform hadn't already, and he made mental note to never, ever allow her to present a study or report to command. At least not until she develops a modicum of salesmanship! If she couldn't manage to sell herself, then he certainly wouldn't permit her to represent the labs to their upper management! But she was hardly unique in her lack of sales skills among hoo-mons (or half hoo-mons), and these were skills she could develop in time under the proper tutelage.

"Very good!" the ferengi scientist smiled with a well-honed outward enthusiasm that hid his inner concerns. "My foundation is in the physical and applied sciences, so your expertise should help fill an obvious deficiency. Now, you used a very important word a moment ago," he prompts and squints slightly to gauge her recognition. "Passion! You said biology was your passion," he adds while vigorously shaking both clenched ferengi fists as if some manifestation of that ideal. "You do not strike me as a woman of many, save perhaps repressed, passions. So! To single out biology as being meaningful enough to steer your life from childhood to this ship must truly be profound! Please -- I should hear more of this passion of yours! Why biology... and then you may ask your questions of me."

“Well, as you can probably tell, I’m half human.” Ensign Scott replied, gesturing to her forehead and it’s plainness save for the row of small, horn like cranial ridges in the center. “-And half Ktarian,” she adds almost as an afterthought. “It was hard for me to understand what that meant as a small child, or why I was so different from the other children. This prompted me to begin searching for the answers which led me to biology and genetics as I grew. But, for every answer I uncovered I found another question; Why did I mature slightly slower than other Ktarian children? Are my cranial ridges due to my human genetics translating my ktarian dna into a third phenotype that wasn't possessed by either my mother or father? Are two species considered different species if they can breed but share no evolutionary link? These questions didn't just stay fixated on my own morphology either, but led me to explore the morphologies of other species, both sentient and not, and why they appeared and acted the way they did.” She took a moment to breath, having ended her explanation much faster, and possibly a little more obsessively, than she had meant it. “It’s… a puzzle to me that I just haven’ been able to ignore. I’ve been dedicated to unraveling, to finding the answers to some of the most overlooked links in the universe.” She finishes, folding her hands in her lap.

Looking back up she would continue “So, regarding my questions for you, sir…” she had a mental list but now that the time had come to ask it was as if she had lost it in the clutter of her own thoughts, causing her to hesitate a short time longer than she meant to “...What can we expect?” she asked, her brow furrowed in concern of a brand new member of the fleet “I mean, I can assume a number of tasks for us regarding surprise issues aboard the ship both with anomalies and contact, but like you said, this isn't a particularly science heavy vessel.” She explained, looking a bit concerned at admitting that “And so I’m sure we won’t be departing on many research specific missions…”

"While the captain has not fully briefed me yet," Nix prompted as he leaned deeper into his chair and steepled his finger inquisitively, "we can infer some duties from the ship's mission -- which is, ostensibly, one of exploration. Uncharted worlds... seeking out new life and new civilizations." The ferengi's tone hinted his lack of faith in those orders, but kept his reservations to himself. "I foresee the Science Department being busy managing long range sensors, probes and partnering with cartography to locate target worlds and stellar anomalies. Once those gems are found, we'll conduct preliminary surveys of the planets, chart them and offer recommendations to Starfleet regarding the viability of further investigation. If the fleet deems it a profitable endeavor, they will then dispatch a science vessel to follow-up on our preliminary investigations and conduct a proper analysis while we set sail for the next target.

"When conducting our analyses and recommendations, our primary focus will be on identifying natural resources that may be exploited for colonization efforts. And as you are, currently, this ship's foremost authority on the life sciences, I imagine you will be leveraged in first-wave reconnaissance of these new worlds. Especially any M-class planets we discover."

Lt. Nix's head tilted slightly, his wide brow arching as he eyed the young ensign. "This may call for extensive Away Team duty for you on possibly hostile worlds. Do you feel your education has properly equipped you for such a responsibility? Do you have any reservations that could be a liability to an Away Team?"

Ensign Scott nodded as she listened to the explanation regarding possible duties for the department. “I would be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous at the prospect of away missions…” she admitted, seeming content with the lieutenant’s explanation “…But I don’t see any reason I would be a ‘liability.’ I’ve received the same training for such missions. The safety protocols for such missions combined with a decent preliminary scans and a good security team should render most hostile environments less dangerous than they could be.” She sat up a bit straighter in her chair with a humorless chuckle “Besides, discoveries were never made without at least a little risk.”

She was trying to convince herself as much as the lieutenant using reassurances she’s told herself many times. After all, ecosystems are biological arm’s races filled with hostilities ranging from disease, to poisonous plants, to monstrous animals. It’s simply a question of how well prepared you are to deal with them. At least that’s what she told herself. “I know that I’m inexperienced and probably the most junior officer on board… but I am aware of the risks that come with the territory of both laboratory and field research -especially on unknown planets. You can count on me not taking any of it lightly.”

Nix listened to her response, and found it adequate if a bit naive. He just hoped she could keep the same composure when faced with preliminary investigations that were rarely, if ever, accurate enough to guarantee a trouble-free assignment. He nodded, and opened his mouth to reply when the ship's intercom came to life...

"Attention crew of the USS Victory. This is Lt. Commander Hunter. I have some good news for you. We will be departing Starbase 900 at 1300 hours. Please have your departments ready for the launch. We're in our proper place, out among the stars at last!"

Nix glanced back towards Annabeth with his cranial ridge raised slightly. "Well, he certainly sounds excitable," he grinned and pushed back from the desk to stand. "I've examined everything except the botany station," he said and pointed through the transparent partition to a tiny corner of the lab with a few rows of empty soil trays awaiting new inhabitants. "Once you confirm everything is satisfactory, I'll signal command we are ready to depart."

Scott stood and followed the ferengi's eyes to the station "I'll begin the inventory immediately, sir." she said, stepping from the office to fulfill her orders with an air of relief to have survived the first meeting. She picked up the station inventory clipboard and began her meticulous examination of the tools and samples provided.

Communicore

Valen's eyes traced back and forth across the glass face of a padd scrolling Henry Miller's Black Spring. What else was he supposed to do with his time? After Victory's main computer had been taken offline due to some ridiculous prank, he wasn't sure what would come first -- the console's green light that signaled the 'core was safe to bring online... or its orange light that indicated a communique from Fleet Intelligence. If they commed to tell him he was being pulled off this ship before her departure, it wouldn't surprise him in the least. If the security here was so lax as to allow a computer breach, no matter how minor, while still under the watchful eye of a starbase, how could they trust his mission or a Sierra-class Communicore to this ship? In fact, he was more than a little surprised that little orange light hadn't started blinking an hour ago.

But, no, it was a flash of green dancing across his novel that caught his attention. "Computer -- is the mainframe back online?"

"Affirmative. The main computer is online and all communication channels have been restored," the ship's computerized, feminine voice answered.

"About damn time..." he complained to himself and tossed the padd to his still unpacked duffel. His fingers danced across the desk before him and a torrent of diagnostic information flooded the screen. "Initiate isolated communications feed Victory-Devereaux-One, and authorize Communicore activation." The terminal chimed encouragingly a beat before the six monitors encircling Valen's desk flashed to life and a web of blue lines animated across the bulbous sphere protruding inward from the ceiling -- a visual representation of the wealth of data being received.

Val stretched his arms out over his head; one wait finished, but another just beginning as he knew it would be at least an hour for this process to complete. His weight shifted, preparing to stand and leave the 'core for the time being when the computer chimed and spoke again. "Main computer partition theta zero-nine-seven has been isolated and encrypted for Starfleet Intelligence use. Do you have further orders?"

Right... he had almost forgot about that. Intelligence had requested a portion of the ship's computer be reassigned to their control to serve as a dedicated assistant to the Communicore -- the processing power of an advanced starship's computer, but isolated from its systems so it may function independently and safe from tampering or childish hackers. "Of course," Valen answered the wall and sat back into his chair. "Load Intelligence Holographic Assistant Program Devereaux One into partition theta zero-nine-seven."

The computer chimed success. "Please designate physical characteristics of IHAP Devereaux One."

Valen leaned back in his chair, fingers laced behind his head as he pondered what his new companion would look like. "What is the etymology of the word 'Victory'?"

"Earth. 14th Century French. Derived from the Latin Victoria," the computer answered.

"Alright then ... let's go with a female human of French-Italian descent... forty-five years old with the appropriate height, weight and measurements of an average woman that age." He paused another moment in thought before adding, "Formal designation Victoria, informal designation Vickie. Load Personality Matrix Devereaux-Six and engage."

The computer chirped a few times before a digital swooshing sound heralds the materialization of a woman standing before his desk. She was bookish-looking with light olive skin and dark hair showing the first hints of grey tied back in a tight bun. She was clad in the same black Intelligence uniform as Valen, but lacking any rank insignia. She stood silent, back straight -- her only signs of life being a subtle rise of her chest in breath and seemingly random blinking to her dark, simulated eyes.

"Right. I'll be--" Valen started to rise from his chair when he's interrupted by the ship's intercom.

"Attention crew of the USS Victory. This is Lt. Commander Hunter. I have some good news for you. We will be departing Starbase 900 at 1300 hours. Please have your departments ready for the launch. We're in our proper place, out among the stars at last!"

"Well, don't leave the man waiting," Val told the holographic newborn and shouldered his duffel bag. "I'll be back in a bit," he added before exiting the Communicore.

All alone among rows of computer screens buzzing with life, Victoria's head cocked slightly to the side as she keyed into Hunter's comm for a reply. "Communicore is online and operational. You have permission to leave dock."

~TBC~

 

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