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Star Trek: Destiny S1 Ep01 "Barbarians at the Gate"

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STARDATE 45809.85

USS Maranval

En-route to DS3-9

 

The Maranval, a Miranda Class Starship, was on the last leg of it's journey ferrying an odd assortment of Starfleet officers and enlisted crew for one of the starships assigned to Deep Space 3-9 also know as Asgard Station. Once there she was to offload her living cargo and take on a much different and urgent one.

Spoiler

MirandaVariant2_USS_Saratoga08.jpg

Of the fifteen officers that had embarked at SB173 only three were above the rank of ensign and even then none those were of a higher rank than Lieutenant. During the trip the three luitenant's got to know each other and shared the unusual experience of their orders which were mysterious at best.

Of the remaining officers all were ensigns and all but one of them were straight out of the Academy and in fact all were in the same class and had been given the same unusual set of orders that the three lieutenant's had been given. Report to Deep Space 3-9 for further orders.

 

Michael Jensen, the youngest commissioned officer in starfleet stepped into the starboard lounge and paused just inside the door to see who else was here. This was the lounge that had been unofficially ceded over to the ships unusual passengers for the five day trip. Seated across the room at a table were the three lieutenant's who carried the same orders as the rest of his classmates. They were quietly conversing and playing a card game. A bar ran the length of the room which would be where crew would serve as waiters during large formal functions. It was there, a cup of tea resting beside her arm, that Ensign T'Set sat, the only member of his class that didn't seem to harbor him any ill will, but then she was a Vulcan so who knows what she's hiding in her head. From where Jensen was standing it seemed like she was watching the card game intently.

Directly across from him at the long window showing the stars streaking by sat another ensign whom he didn't know. She looked like a Vulcan but odd, her skin was pale and her hair which wasn't cut in a normal Vulcan fashion, was dark red. He'd never seen a red headed Vulcan before and didn't think that they would color their hair. At least nothing in his cultural studies had ever mentioned that they did.

As if aware of his gaze the unknown ensign raised her head from the padd she was reading and glanced at him. They made eye contact for an instant then she turned her head to gaze out the window at the passing stars. Jensen felt other eyes on him and turned to see T'Set looking at him and then at the other Vulcan. He couldn't put his finger on it but he got a distinct impression of disapproval.

Other than those five the lounge was empty which was a bit unusual considering that aside from the fifteen officers being transferred there were twenty-eight enlisted crew and specialists also being transferred under the exact same orders.

 


 

Spoiler

Ok this is the intro the ship carrying y'all to ds3-9 is almost there but I wanted to give y'all a chance to get acquainted. Little back ground.

Jensen... there is resentment of you from your fellow ensigns due to the fact that you are so much younger and you were the top of the class something you share with T'Set. Both of you had perfect scores. But she being a Vulcan is  not afforded the same kind of resentment.

T'Set – The other Vulcan is V'lar and she is what is basically a minority on Vulcan a native of Xir-tan a volatile continent in the south of the planet the native residents have been effected over the centuries and have a drifting genetic mutation which causes them to have pale skin and red hair. They also are less adherent to the Logical teachings of Surak. They make their living mining and doing labor that is automated in other regions that has to be done by manual labor in Xir'Tan due to the harsh environment. This has led to a prejudice where those native to Xir'Tan are pretty much regarded as less intelligent and well second class. You have never met a Xir'Tanian. Have never been in the same room and probably never even given them much thought but while you might not be prejudice it is a shock to find one here in a star fleet uniform. Kao I am not saying that you have to be prejudiced but it is just the natural reaction from your social upbringing that if you even stop to think about it it is stupid... but it is just one of those social problems that Vulcan aren't supposed to have but do. If you have any questions or concerns pm or whisper me.

 

Ok go ahead and make some getting to know you posts and lets get this party started

 

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Anjala slid a card over to J'sira and turned it over to reveal a three of clubs. That brought the Vulcan's total to 17...a difficult choice to make. Anjala was rather curious to see what she'd do.

It was rather pleasant being around Vulcans. Their minds really were noticeably different, to some extent. The chatter and murmurs were more muted, held in check by Vulcan training and discipline. Learning to tune out that background 'noise' was something Anjala was practiced at, having grown up around humans on Earth, but it was nice not to have to. Well, not as much at least.

J'sira though was very interesting. There was that discipline yes, but also a kind of wildness or passion that burned perilously close to the surface at times. Vulcans had that potential, Anjala knew. She remembered reading that their push to purge emotions had come as a consequence of how strong those emotions ran...and their cousins the Romulans certainly bore that out. She wondered though if J'sira's struggle was the result of her unusual heritage, or her own self-perception of that heritage.

"So, J'sira...hit or stay?" the Betazoid asked with a smirk. "Aggressive and risky, or passive but numerically sensible?"

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J'Sira had liked the Exeter, and though she knew that reassignment was a part of being in Starfleet, she missed her ship and crew mates. She knew the ship well and knew her engines and warp core backwards and forwards. But know infinite possibilities lay before her with the vague orders she had received. A new chapter, she thought to herself.

The odd class of such young, but highly acclaimed ensigns did cause her to wonder as to the nature of their orders. The loss of thirty-nine ships at the battle of Wolf-359 meant that a large number of new crews would be needed, but Starfleet Commands could not possibly be so desperate. Maybe they were they heading to a simulation or wargame with the ensigns? In time, she would have answers, for now, her attention was brought back to the game at hands and the other lieutenants she had met during this voyage.

"The logical choice is to stay, regardless of the card you are displaying as dealer, since the odds of busting with a third card is roughly two to one with only these six cards played from the deck." J'Sira said as she picked up her vulcan mocha and took a sip, savoring it.

"That being said, even though you have been shuffling after each hand in a effort to keep the game are random or 'fair' as possible, I have noticed a specific fluctuation of probability toward lower value cards over the last several hands, based one the cards dealt each hand since the game began." she commented and took another sip, setting down her drink.

"Sometimes one must trust their instincts. So yes, I will take another card." she answered with a faint smile.

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"I shall stand with the nineteen." she replied, waving her hand back and forth once over her cards in the traditional hand gesture matching her decision.

With her own hand set, J'Sira picked up her vulcan mocha once more, and taking a sip glanced around the lounge and the hand full of others within it once again, as she had seemed to do every few minutes since she arrived. Turning her attention back to the table, she glanced at Anjala and then Miriam as she spoke,

"So do you believe in luck, Doctor? Or do you believe in manufacturing your own luck?" she inquired.

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The game had been ongoing for some time now and T'Set was indulging an idle past-time she had picked up on her rare downtimes in the Academy. People watching. They were playing Blackjack. A logical choice, given the capabilities of the players. But one from which you could infer much about someone. And one was a Vulcan, though those ridges implied some heritage from another species. Wrong shape for Cardassian. Klingon, perhaps. It would make sense, with the Alliance between the two factions.

Raising her tea, she takes a sip as the door opens and one of her former classmates and now comrades walked through the door. Jensen. An anomaly, even among the gifted at the academy. They had not run together during their Academy days, not really. Both too focused on their separate fields of study to warrant much overlap. Though she had noted an illogical fixation among some of her classmates on the younger man. She had put it down to hormones in conjunction with the high stress atmosphere and close quarters, but had ultimately been to focused on her studies to seek the truth. Regardless, his achievements were to be lauded and there would be plenty of time to get to know him on whatever mission they had all been earmarked for.

His attention seemed caught by the Xir'Tanian. She did not know what to make of that one. She had not considered that they too might seek to leave Vulcan, leaving their mines behind..... but then, she supposed they would be used to the hard labour and so would prove useful on a Starship.  Still, though, it was good to see, though would likely take some getting used to.

Returning her attention to the young man, she found his attention returned to her. After a brief assessing gaze, she inclined her head slightly in greeting, a quiet "Jensen" accompanying before gesturing to the empty seats around her in quiet invitation before her gaze returned to the game, though not as focused as before. More contemplative. 

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Michael recognized Ensign T'Set in passing and had to admit to himself the nod from her seemed... out of place.  At the academy the two could have probably counted on one hand the number of times they shared a few words, let alone a greeting lest it was part of some evolution or after hours assignment study.  To say they 'knew' each other was a lie that neither could pass off on their best day, but to suddenly be acknowledged out of nowhere by her was strange.  Perhaps it was because they were no longer classmates and were now 'colleagues'.  Yes, that must have been it.

Saying Michael Jensen was a social young man would have been like saying Vulcans produced some of the angriest death metal in the galaxy, sure they were capable... but it just did come all that easy to them.  He managed a smile, that honestly looked like it may had been his first attempt at one, ever, and managed a wave at T'Set in polite acknowledgement of her greeting.  His wave was lazy and gave off the cues of an individual who really didn't know what he was waving for, but he'd seen other do it so thought he'd follow along, it would have been enough to embarrass a human woman into never speaking to him again... ever.

To say he felt out of place was the understatement of the century.  Michael was an anomaly, among humans, anyway.  His intellect was staggering and here stood in a Star Ship as a member of Starfleet at only seventeen years old.  It was almost unheard of.  Even in this century he would have loved to say that humanity had changed and evolved past it's pettiness and desire to hurt others simply because one could, but that was not the case at all from his experience.  His whole life he'd always encountered those who, because he was so smart, treated him like he was an outcast of the bearer of some plague, keeping their distance and refusing to let him be a part of what was 'normal'.  Starfleet wasn't his choice, his parents made it for him when they approached his family.  Once there, it was just like Michael knew it would be, although they were all gifted and young, Michael wasn't afraid to ask questions, challenge, or even bark orders during the evolution and quickly became ostracized during off hours and out shunned in no time at all.  So, his four years sucked.

"You uh, gonna move?"  Came a voice from behind him, and Jensen turned about to see two other junior crewmen standing behind him, semi-trapped in the doorway he was currently blocking.  So lost in his own head he didn't even hear the door open.  They swiftly noted his collar devices and the one who spoke quickly corrected himself.  "Oh, uh... s-sorry, sir.  That came out a little more tactless than I intended..."

"Huh?"  Jensen looked at them both like they were speaking gibberish until his mind swiftly put all the dots together.  "Oh, oh, no it's uh, okay, it's fine.  I'm uh, the one blocking the door, it's all good... you guys, please, come in and enjoy your, uh, off time... or your... whatever..." his voice trailed off at the end as his brain decided to shut down that babbling before it embarrassed him too much.  "Let me uh, get out of the way and y-you two come on in and I'll uh... j-just go," he pointed towards the blackjack game, but walked in the opposite direction to the bar.  When his brain had caught up that we was walking opposite the direction he pointed it picked up the pieces and his other arm swiftly took the reigns and he pointed in the proper direction.  "Go over there and... d-do something."

The two looked at each other and tried not to laugh outright.  With his back to them and a few steps away Jensen closed his eyes and chastised himself for looking like a complete tool.  As an officer he was expected to actually give people orders and here he was... barely able to speak... or point... or walk... or think... yay Starfleet.  He sat at the bar, tilting his head into his hand with his elbow on the counter, sulking inwardly.

"That, was painful."  Said the on duty staff behind the bar.  Since everything here was replicated, one wasn't really necessary, but one of the crew from the Maranval volunteered their off duty hours to hang out and help with some of those having a difficult time with the transition; answering questions, being a friendly ear, and portraying that vibe that everyone was Starfleet; one team, one family.  It was a tactic that worked especially well with Ensigns, who, even after a four year academy, could be really intimidated by all the strangers they found themselves surrounded by who knew the area, the ship and the people so well.  "What can I get you that doesn't involve years of therapy to erase the whole last few minutes from existence?"

"Mint hot chocolate, 71.1 degrees, marshmallows too, if it's okay.  And something to make me invisible..." Michael sighed, releasing some of the tension he was feeling through a tensed up expression.

The guy laughed.  "That first one I can do.  Second, you're on your own there, kid.  But, some free advice: don't let it get to you.  We all have to learn to crawl before we walk.  Lemme get that drink for ya."

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Miriam Sepguta smiled, pleased J’Sira remembered her preference for using the title ‘doctor’ over her military rank. If she could get away with not even wearing her pips she would but that wasn’t going to happen. Besides, at the end of the day her orders read Lieutenant-Junior Grade, not doctor. That would become less important as her skill grew but Star Fleet being what it was, the rank would always be there.

“Personally, I prefer the skill to make my own luck” she replied. “That said, the first thing you learn in residency is it’s better to be lucky than to be good.  I hate that saying but I understand why doctors say it.”

Glancing down at the cards in front of her she took a few seconds to think over her next step. A seven and Jack of Diamonds. Respectable but J’Sira had already beat her with the 19 she had showing.

“Sometimes though,” Miriam said looking at Anjala and J'Sira in turn, “it doesn’t matter. You can’t win if you don’t risk losing.”

“Hit me,” she ordered tapping the table next to her cards.

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The Betazoid dealer dutifully doled out another card, and revealed another club...but this time the number was nine.

Anjala gave Miriam a sympathetic smile.

"Sorry. Sometimes it's just not in the cards."

She then drew another card for herself...a ten of diamonds...and checked the hidden card again. There was some theater in the gesture, as she remembered perfectly well what it was.

"Ahh, well, not that I have a lot of choice in the matter, but..." Anjala turned over the hidden card to reveal a ten of spades, which with the six of hearts that had been showing made twenty-six. "Dealer busts."

"You guys sure you don't want to try some poker?"

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"There is a saying on Vulcan, "Luck in the result of the convergence of preparation and opportunity." J'Sira replied as she watched Najalla place another card.

J'Sira nodded, collected her cards and placed them before Anjala as she spoke to the Doctor.

"Unfortunate, but you made the only logical choice, given the circumstances." she consoled the Doctor and then turned her attention to the Betazoid's question.

"Unfortunately, a regular game like poker would hardly be a game due to the unique extra sensory abilities of your species. Not to imply that you would actively cheat, but as I understand it, you could not help but know our hands as soon as we looked at our cards." she replied as she began to consider ways to play poker 'fairly' with a telepath.

"There are possible solutions though. One is to employ a 'no look' strategy, where a player plays each hand and makes bets without looking at the cards dealt them, thereby nullifying your unique advantage. Such a strategy has been successfully employed in the past, though it relies on pure luck and the other players' uncertainty more than anything else." she suggested as she pondered the holodeck.

"A second option would require two holodecks, with the Doctor and my self in one and you in another. The holodecks would be linked, projecting each of us into the other holodeck. It would, for all intents and purposes, appear that we are in the same room, playing together, but would allow for a more 'fair' game for all." she explained, but then displayed the slightest hint of a frown.

"Neither option is all that viable, given our current circumstances. In addition, both options, regrettably, lead to you being singled out or alienated to a degree, and that is neither preferable nor desirable, since the purpose of games is personal interaction and shared experience." she added.

J'Sira's might raced, cycling through all of the various multiplayer card games she knew of that allowed equal participation among the players, therefore eliminating those those that relegated a player to being simply a dealer, but still allowed for strategy though did not require the concealment of one's cards to do so. Barring that, she considered dice games in the same manner, and arrived at Yahtzee, and though strategy was present, it was minimal.

She then discarded card, dice and similar games all together in favor of physical games that did not require teams, but would permit them if needed, ruling out ones where physiological advantages of strength and endurance would unbalance the game.

She settled on two options as she picked up her vulcan mocha and took another sip.

"I purpose an alternate solution. One that still meets the previous criteria, and yet does not give a distinct advantage to any one player. Both have a multitude of games available. The first is Billiards. Granted, billiards is not a viable option at the moment, given that the table is large and we have not reached our destination yet. As for the other..." she said as she stood and walked over to the replicator.

"Computer." she said, causing it to chime, "One traditional dart board and darts suitable for multi-person play." she instructed.

The replicated chimed and swirl of sparkles appeared and coalesced into the items requested. She then picked them up and turned out, holding out the board in one hand the darts in the other, as if offering them.

"Darts, anyone?"

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As if on Que the doors nearest that side of the lounge opened with a swish and three more ensigns from T'Set and Jensen's class entered. The young human male in the lead paused giving the higher ranking officers a appraising look before addressing T'Set.

“Hey T'Set.” Said Pat Garner as he stepped past The Vulcan and turned toward Jensen at the other end of the bar. The other two ensigns stopped by T'Set. Bada Tiv, a female Bajoran, and Antonash Droganescu, a human male from the Deneva Colony. They both acknowledged her as they watched their friend approach the youngest member of their group.

“How are you doing Jensen, missing mommy and daddy, drowning it in a...what is that hot chocolate?”

Pat Garner was from Earth and if ever there was an over privileged self entitled elitist person it was him. Both of his parents were Award winning scientist, his aunt was an admiral in Starfleet and his oldest sister had just been Given command of the brand new USS Intrepid first ship in the new class that bore her name. Among the Special Class of '68 he was running a close third behind Jensen and T'set and had the bruised ego from the belief that he should have been the top and not Jensen and blamed Jensen for the belief that the instructors had favored him because of his younger age. That he hated Jensen was no secret among the former classmates.

And now they were being sent to what was likely the same posting.

Spoiler

The three Lieutenants will over hear this exchange.... also I will add some images for the three ensigns soon

 

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Anjala grinned at J'sira's antics. Never ask an engineer or a Vulcan a question if you want a short answer, the saying went. And J'sira was both in one.

She stood up and took the offered darts just as another gaggle of ensigns came gaggling in. When Ensign Garner went over to harass Jensen her grip on the darts tightened a little, but she held off just for a moment to see if Jensen had this. It wouldn't do the kid's credibility any favors to swoop in immediately.

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"It is," Jensen said, mustering as much snark as he could.  Fact was that Garner scared the crap out of him, but Michael was bolstered slightly by sight of senior officers who, he hoped, would call the rabid loser off him.  "I figured since I'm still living rent free in your head I might as well get a cup of cocoa, put my feet up, and get comfortable."

He stood tall, probably a few moments from letting his mouth write a check his ass couldn't cash, but, nothing ventured and all that... "Take it in Garner, this is me from the front.  Since you've been looking at nothing but my back for the last four years and probably the rest of your career... breathe it in."

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J'Sira noted the arrive of more ensigns, but seemed to pay them little mind as she set up the board, but Anjala's telepathy knew different. With so few people in the room, the room was rather quiet, so it was rather hard to not hear what Garner said. Anajala could feel a flash of anger from J'Sira as Garner's taunting of Jensen, though she showed no particular outwards signs of it. The anger was swiftly wrangled thought by her Vulcan training, but a good measure of her attention was devoted to the conversation.

'Hmm. I must wait and see how the young ensign handles this situation before taking action.. If he struggles, then diffuse and disarm the situation with pointed comment to Garner's ego about unflattering jealousy and remind Garner of his position as a Starfleet Officer.' she was thinking to herself was she opened backed away from the board and calculated approximately seven feet and nine and one-quarter inches based off the spacing of the structural supports, with under an inch for a margin of error, which she determined was acceptable, given the circumstances.

'An interesting strategy. Remind him of your academic dominance and his own jealousy. High probability of eliciting an overly emotional response, given their relative youth. Possible ploy may be to provoke such a response in front of us lieutenants in the hopes of Garner making a bad impressions and resulting in disciplinary action. If it comes to blows, then depending on who is getting the better of the exchange, I may wait to intervene. Physical dominance can be an effective way of reinforcing the rank structure, such as in the IDF.' she further thought, though one would be hard pressed to tell she was concerned with anything besides setting up the games of darts.

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Inclining her head in acknowledgement of Garner's greeting, not a flicker on her face to bely the mental sigh of exasperation as he made a bee-line towards Jensen. Emminently predictable. Seemingly graduation had not proved an adequate catalyst for his moving beyond his petty grievances. Irritation mounting, she debated her course of action. She could remain aloof from the situation, as she had done for the last four years, certainly. The other Ensigns would almost certainly expect it to be the case, in fact. Never mind that it was her own coursework stacked on top of her extra curriculars that had kept her attention, rather than any particularly guided apathy. So yes, there was the Status quo as an option.

The second option didn't bear much thinking on. Align herself with Garner and the other two to begin forming a power block among the Ensigns. No. Not at the cost of one of her own. Social distance or not.

The third involved the same, just alongside Jensen instead of Garner and his companions. She would admit that emotionally, this was the more tempting option, even if she couldn't precisely explain why to herself at the moment. Having an ally would likely cause the others to at least proceed more cautiously, even though it would put her in their firing line. Still, their juvenile baiting would prove less effective against her, their kind sought reactions and Vulcans were notorious for not reacting at all.

Still. Her mother would be disappointed if she didn't at least try to start a dialogue.

With the tension mounting between the other Ensigns at Jensen's little byplay, she took one final sip of her tea before placing it down once more, the audibly clack serving to break the charged silence as well as to draw their attention to herself. Weaving her fingers together and resting her chin on them, she graced them with an indifferent look.

"Garner. Do you not feel this is beneath you now?" ...... probably a lot blunter than her mother would have hoped, but then,  N'Evran had despaired of T'Set becoming a diplomat years ago.

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Garner balled his fists at Jensens uncharacteristic attempt to stand up to him. No not stand up but actually counter attack. Patrick's' face flushed with anger and he was about to lose control when T'Set's voice penetrated through the blood rushing in his ears. He looked back over his shoulder at T'Set and saw Tiv and Antonash, both waiting for his next move, cautious sheep that they were.

Garner relaxed his fists and turned back to Jensen. “Enjoy it Mikey, “ Pat leans in close and continued with a whisper, “We'll finish this later, pal.” Then he turned away and for the first time noticed the other Vulcan in the room.

V'lar had heard everything of course but had shown little interest she didn't know these people and would probably never see them again after receiving her orders, then she noticed the one the Vulcan at the bar had called Garner turn toward her and take a few steps in her direction.

“I have never seen a Vulcan with red hair. I've never heard of one of you using cosmetics so it must be real. Didn't even know it was possible.”

The idiocy of what he was say was apparent to just about everyone in the room and they all recognized it as what it was, the bully trying to save face.

V'lar rose quickly and in a few steps of her own was standing before they young human officer. She was shorter than him by at least seventeen centimeters, but still he flinch back from the light gray eyes that searched his own. “The Vulcan genome has the same coloration parameters as 99.7% of the known humanoid species in the galaxy. While the tendency of Vulcan coloration is most often to the darker spectrum in both skin and hair pigmentation other colors are not unheard of. Of course every species has it's oddities for instance where I am from on Vulcan, the Xir'Tan region, it is very far removed form the other centers of population. The region is very harsh and unstable even compared to other regions which are more well known. Due to exposure to certain radiations which have caused slight genetic drift Vulcan's with Lighter skin and red hair such as mine are more common. As for the use of cosmetics I believe your assumptions are due to your own exposure to a certain type of person of Vulcan heritage. As your starfleet education has I am sure shown you making assumptions on limited evidence is not wise. For instance, again, it is foolhardy to assume that all Vulcan's follow the teachings of Surak equally. It is neither a logical assumption, nor a safe one.”

Without further acknowledging Garner V'lar stepped past him and gave a slight nod to Jensen and then one toward the general direction of T'Set and the lieutenants before leaving the lounge. Several seconds past then Garner went o the replicator and ordered drinks while Tiv and Antonash sat at a table as far from everyone as they could. After receiving the drinks Garner joined them

 

Spoiler

Batim you picked up all the inner thoughts of course

     EnsignPatrickGarner.jpg                         EnsignBradaTiv.jpg                                                                                                                                                                                                  EnsignAntonashDroganescu2.jpg                                                                                                 

 

 

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"Okay," Miriam said glancing back and forth between the two lieutenants, "we could switch to darts. I haven't played  in forever. Not since I worked passage on a Ferengi freighter so its been awhile. I did okay even though the cargo master kept shifting deck micro gravity when we played for shares."

Spoiler

Anjala / Telepaths: Miriam has a momentary remembrance of playing darts against a Ferengi while wearing very little.

Pursing her lips she shifted her gaze fully to J'Sira, having to crane her neck slightly due to the differences in their heights and continued, "I think you might be overthinking this though. You're assuming Anjala couldn't or wouldn't resist sensing our thoughts. Or at least can't help intuiting our cards and strategies. Right?" 

Miriam shifted her gaze to Anjala and asked bluntly, "Is that really a concern? Or is it something you do without conscious thought? If its the former then cards is just not a game you're going to enjoy. If its the latter then there are things we can do to even the odds. Without resorting to holodecks."

Miriam paused waiting for the Betazoid officer to reply.

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After a few moments of the Doctor speaking, J'Sira raised an eyebrow in a characteristically Vulcan expression as she waited for her to finish, considering her words.

"Overthinking? Not at all, Doctor. In fact, I only gave it the bare minimum thought needed and went with the first acceptable solution. If anything, to use your parlance, I 'underthought' it for the sake of expediency, though I shall give it further thought should the new orders we receive result in us being station together, so as to offer other options should we continue with this group activity." she calmly replied. 

J'Sira thought for just the briefest of moments before continuing,

"Playing a game where it is imperative to conceal your hand or strategy from the others players is moot with a Betazoid, due to their innate extra sensory abilities. Playing poker, for example, would be as if you were simply showing your cards to her, since when you look at your cards, you think of them and then consider strategies based on them. One open to receiving thoughts, such a Betazoid, could not help but 'hear', for simplicity sake, your thoughts on the matter. Since the object of games such as that is to be fair and allow luck and skill to prevail, her telepathy would give her an unfair advantage." she explained.

"In addition, going out of our way in an attempt to specifically counter her telepathy would almost certainly have the effect of feeling like she were imposing. Any such effort, on our part, would likely result in making her feel more isolated or alienated. Hence, a game where concealment is not required, such as darts, is not only the most 'fair', but also the most inclusive." she added.

"It is curious that you viewed it 'overthinking' though. Efficiency is a trait highly valued by Vulcans. 'Overthinking', as you put it, would be terribly inefficient, and to suggest to a Vulcan that they are doing so might not be received well."  she said, finishing her thought with the slightest shrug.

"Luckily, I am half Klingon as well." she added with a faintest of grins as she offered the doctor a set of darts.

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Miriam cocks her head while looking questioningly at J'Sira.

"That was," she responds slowly, "a very detailed analysis. One might even characterize it as a deeply thought, highly analytical argument conclusively making a case for why games depending on deception or subterfuge are bad ideas for the present company. I think I might have gone with 'she'll beat the snot out of us' or something like that."

Spoiler

Telepathy tag: Miriam is trying very hard not to laugh.

Miriam smiles and adds. "But you do you."

"Winner picks the next game?" Miriam suggests holding her hands out for a set of darts.

"You better beat me if you don't want to play Kadis-Kot though."

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Anjala grins and waves a hand, "Hey, I'll be happy to explain it if you're still interested."

"J'sira's more or less right, though in practice there's a lot of, uh...nuance. I can't really see through your eyes, for example, so it's not that I immediately know what your cards are. It's more like..." she paused, considering. "...imagine that everything you were just thinking to yourself, you were actually saying aloud. And things you imagine seeing are showing on a little screen over your head. But here's the thing...everyone's doing that, not just you. And even just you..."

Lt Batim paused again as she tried to think of how to explain it to someone who had zero context for the experience.

"...you have this self-perception, this experience of yourself, as being a very straightforward linear-time voice-in-my-head-narrating my thoughts kind of being. But you're not. No one is. Our minds are like...three or four or more voices all going at once. Memories and senses and associations and what you're aware of as 'you' is just a thin skin on top of it all. I can hear all that, but it takes a certain amount of concentration to make sense of any of it. Like picking a single conversation out of a noisy room."

She shrugged.

"So, short version, I don't have to cheat at cards. But there's always the risk that I'll accidentally notice you being really happy about getting that straight you were angling for, or realize you're bluffing even if I'm not specifically looking for it. A strong thought, or mental image or emotion can sometimes jump out at me regardless."

"Besides, darts are fun."

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"Sounds almost like a genetic predisposition for intuition" Miriam offered while testing the balance of the darts by balancing each on the tip of her left fore finger one dart after another. "That doesn't seem that different from some others I've known. More natural talent but nothing too shocking. I can't really imagine what it would be like to grow up in a culture like Betazed."

"Who is going first?" asked Miriam switching subjects abruptly.

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"Yeah, me neither," Anjala admits as she turns to eye the dartboard. "I grew up in San Francisco. Then again, it's not intuition that I know what you were wearing in that darts game on the Ferengi freighter."

She gives Miriam a grin and a wink. "Cute outfit, by the way."

Then she lets fly with a dart; a good throw that sinks a little too low to get a bullseye, but it's not far off.

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J'Sira listened to the back and forth between the Doctor and the Betazoid, playing close attention to how Lt. Batim explained her telepathy from her perspective, noting it for future reference. At the mention of her cheating though, J'sira thought back to her exact word choice, evaluating it closely before reconsidering the Doctor's statements as well.

"A very detailed analysis, and deeply thought?" she asked.

"It would appear you have had little interaction with Vulcans, Doctor." she commented.

"To be clear, I barely gave it thought, much less an detailed analysis. In fact, back on Vulcan, it would have been regarded as lazy and premature, and during my time at the Vulcan Science Academy I would have been reprimanded for such an incomplete analysis. But just was taught much about the Vulcan way by my mother, my mother also instilled in the importance of initiative and swift action." J'Sira explained as she collected her cup of vulcan mocha and brought it closer to where they would be playing.

She then turned to Lt. Batim, addressing her,

"I do not believe there was any suggestion that you would, much less would have to, cheat a cards. I was simply discussing the fundamental 'fairness' of playing various games due to the specific innate capabilities of your species. Cheating requires choice and intent, and is not something I would suggest of another Starfleet officer lightly. If you feel that I suggested that you might cheat, then please accept my apologizes and ensure you that it was not my intent. I would further ask that you please elaborate as to how I did so, in order for me to  be sure to not make the implication in the future." she said to Lt. Batim, who could easily sense her honest concern at possibly offending her, as well as wishing to set an example of proper conduct for the young ensigns.

"As for games, might I suggest an Earth game known as Cricket, the object of which is to strike each number from fifteen through twenty, in order, and the bullseye, three times each. The larger, tapering areas of each number counting as one strike of the number, while the small area contained in the rings count as two strikes. In addition, the ring directly encircling the bullseye counts as a single strike and the center of the bullseye counts a double. The game allows for any number of individual players, as well as teams, if required." she suggested.

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"Uh uh, J'Sira" cautioned Miriam. "The game has started and I do believe the selection of the next game is the right of the victor. Or at least no one objected to that condition before the game started. You want to play cricket you have to win at darts first. Or talk the winner into it."

Spoiler

Telepathy tag: Miriam is enjoying the irony of J'Sira continuing to argue her obvious nonchalance.

Sotto voce Miriam looped the conversation back to Anjala's earlier comment, "It was so cute! I patterned it after the main character of his favorite holo-novel. Which I found out about it, because I walked in on him while he was running the program because he wasn't responding to the comms. It was more than a little embarrassing for him, I think. And of course I've never met a Ferengi that knew how to deal with a woman he didn't own outright. He blustered and moaned, poor dear, but then I started wearing the costume to the dart game. I wanted to embarrass him a little for the gravity cheating but it was so effective! Poor dear just couldn't keep a thought in his head. There for a bit I was honestly concerned he was going to choke on his tongue when he tried to talk. And then I made  earrings in the engineering replicator. Completely impractical, and more than a little uncomfortable, but they made my ears look pointed so I looked even more like the main character from the novel." 

Miriam sighed then admitted, "He asked me to marry him the night before we docked. It would never have worked but its always flattering to be asked, don't you think? Were you going to throw the other two darts Anjala?".

 

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The Betazoid looked at Miriam blankly, then nodded. "Yeah...sorry, just, uh..." she motioned at J'sira.

"Sorry, J'sira, I knew you weren't accusing me of anything. I was just being glib. Conversational."

She turned back towards the dart board and lobbed another dart. This one went a bit high as she overcompensated for the low toss. The last dart she weighed in her hand for a few seconds...bobbing it up and down with her wrist loose...then threw. This time it hit the center squarely.

"I'm too used to throwing energy beams around," the lieutenant lamented. "Put something with weight in my hand and suddenly I'm back in a training rig."

Anjala went to get the darts, and offered them to Miriam.

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Miriam takes the darts and positions to throw while commenting, "You did fine. First round with strange darts and nobody was injured? You're a savant."

With a fluid motion Miriam tosses three darts in less time than it take to tell then walks to the target to inspect. "Adequate," she announces pulling the darts loose to bring them to J'Sira.

 

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"The simple act of throwing a dart does not constitute the beginning of a game when no game was agreed upon or even suggested, Doctor." J'Sira corrected Lt. Sepguta.

"The act of 'warming up', or engaging in the basic physical activity required for an athletic endeavor in order to be better prepared when the game actually begins would describe what we are currently doing much more accurately, as no specific game has been decided upon as of yet." she further explained as she accepted the darts from the Doctor.

"Additionally, the constant changing of games would be highly inefficient if we were to switch to entirely different games rather than stay under the umbrella of one broad game, such as darts, of which I am aware of one hundred and twenty-three different dart games, sixty-seven of which the three of us could properly play, resulting in more time spent preparing for each game than actually participating, so the suggestion of 'winner picks next game' would result in a significant waste of time and would be ill-advised. And though 'silence is consent' is a valid legal stance is several cultures, such as that of Narrindra Three,  it is not an accepted legal standard within Starfleet." she further explained as she held out a dart, point down, lining up the back with a point of the board, and then, keeping her upper arm parallel with the deck, threw the dart with a flick of the wrist.

She repeated the motion several times, striking the 'One', the 'Twenty' and the inner ring of the 'Twenty' once each.

She then turned to Anjala and nodded.

"Understood. No need to apologize." she reassured Anjala before walking over to collect the darts from the board and pass them to another.

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"I stand corrected." Miriam replied. Hooking her thumb in the direction of the nearest replicator she announced "I'm going to get something to eat. Did you ladies want something?"

Spoiler

(Added after I realized I missed this) Telepathy Tag: a mask slips into place and Miriam's emotions grow muted. 

 

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Sitting there with chin still resting on interlaced fingers, T'Set observed the three Lieutenants and their game, though her mind was drifting somewhat, the earlier confrontation having given her some food for thought. The situation with Jensen was unsustainable in it's current format, and would likely see someone hurt before long, either Jensen from a "joke" taken too far, or Garner and his ilk, when Jensen inevitable snapped back at them. That event, when it happened, would likely be a spectacle for all of his relative powerlessness up till this point. The idea of any of them being harmed in these exchanges was..... unsettling. Unsettling, yet inevitable. Logic would dictate that any status quo be impossible to maintain indefinitely. Entropy as a universal constant would wear one down till something broke.

And so she makes her decision, cleaning away her tea before approaching Jensen, who seemed to be lost in the depths of his drink. She pauses beside him for a moment, waiting to see if he noticed, before murmuring a quiet "Jensen" to catch his attention. The full body flinch she receives in return has her raising a single eyebrow at the disproportionate response before smoothly moving on after a half hearted greeting from the young officer.

"Jensen. I will be approaching the Lieutenants, both to introduce and to ask to join their game. I would recommend that you come with me and do the same."

The quiet murmer of the room covers up the hushed tones of their conversation, and there is a moment of stunned silence as he processes the blunt statement.

"Uhm... n-no. That's all right. I can go and introduce myself later, or something. I-i mean, uh, When they're not busy. Or something. I wouldn't want to bother them on their down time." he offers her a strained smile at the unimpressed look he receives. The quick flick of his eyes towards where Garner has seated himself betrays the focus of his worries, but then, she hardly needed to be a quantum physicist to have figured that one out. As he looks to continue his stuttered denial, she interrupts with a firm tone.

"Jensen. You have known me for four years, and you should know enough of my people to guess what might be coming. So, if you truly wish to go through the song and dance, I can proceed to Logic you into submission." The wry twist of her lips is enough to rob most of the sting from her comment. A normal Vulcan might have been a little more circumspect, or at least not so overtly joking about their own peoples way of doing things, but T'Set had been among other species for a long time and from a very young age. "Or, you can save us both the time and just get up to follow me."

The gobsmacked expression on Jensens's face was worth it though, already halfway out of his seat. She favours him with a nod at that, before pivoting around and making her way to the Lieutenants, coming to a stop just by the table, offering a slight bow in greeting.

"Please forgive our intrusion. I am Ensign T'Set and this is Ensign Jensen. If it is not too presumptious of us, may we join the game?"

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"Doctor Miriam Sepguta formerly of Star Fleet Medical Crisis Alert. You'll need to talk to these two about the game," Miriam said jerking her thumb over her shoulder to indicate Anjala and J'Sira. "I believe we're in agreement  no game has been decided upon but warm up activity is taking place. It would seem a good time to expand the circle. But I need food first."

Turning back to Anjala and J'Sira, Miriam silently mouths the word 'famished' then whirls to stride away towards the nearest open replicator.

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Across space another starship hurtles through the stars on a course almost the mirror of the one the USS Maranval traveled.

Aboard the USS Destiny, Chief Cutter was finding this seat more comfortable than he had ever imagined when the sound of the turbolift made him glance over his shoulder, what he saw prompted him to vacate that comfortable seat. Commander Raynner stepped onto the bridge, her bridge now, she stepped over toward the captains chair and stopped as her acting second in command Chief Cutter stood and faced her. She didn't quite frown bu the look on her Rigelian face was still uncharacteristically grim. "Something wrong Com..Captain?"

"Plenty Chief. Status?"

Cutter nodded and glanced out over the bridge her stations manned by a skeleton crew all enlisted, specialist and one lone ensign. "Everything is running nominal. We are holding at warp 9 and we are about 55 minutes from dropping at Asgard.  So about an hour and a half to docking.

Vikeli Raymer followed Cutter's gaze and she took a deep breath, then handed the Chief Petty Officer the padd she was carrying and sat in the chair. "Just finished talking to command, I've been confirmed and the crew replacements have been en-route for the better part of a month. They should be waiting for us when we dock."

"That all sounds like good news to me so why the glum look?"

Raymer said nothing just gestured to the padd now in Cutters hands. He thumbe the display on and gave it a once over then studied it more carefully his eyes growing wider the further read.

"This is peachy." he said his own face now set glumly echoing that of his new captain.

USS MARANVAL

The officers and ensigns had enjoyed several rounds of their dart game when the ship dropped out of warp, everyone glanced toward the large windows giving them a view or the large space station, some parts still incomplete after two years of onsite construction.

"Attention this is the First Officer speaking. All personnel scheduled to depart at Deep Space 3-9 please report to your disembarkation stations with all carry on baggage we expect be docked within 45 minutes. Thanks you."

 

Spoiler

you can make a few more rp post if you desire if not i will continue to the next scene tonight or tomorrow

 

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"It seems we have arrived." J'Sira commented, mostly to herself as she walked toward the window and observed the station under construction, calculating how close to completion it seemed to be.to the best of her ability as a mental exercise.

After a few moments she then turned back to the others.

"If our new orders result in us being stationed together, then I shall see you soon." she said with a faint smile.

"Alternatively, if at Asgard Station we end up going our separate ways due to our new orders, then it is been enjoyable meeting you and I have enjoyed our game." she said with a nod as she raised her right hand with the palm forward and the thumb extended, while parting the fingers between the middle and ring finger in the traditional 'Vulcan salute'.

"May you live long and prosper." she said, bidding farewell.

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Miriam rose from the table leaving her food untouched and joined J'Sira at the windows. Asgard station. It was massive and probably messy as as hell if the the incomplete construction were any indication. It was also beautiful, magnificent and was a gateway to whatever was going to happen next.

"Health and Hearth," Miriam answered J'Sira. "Hope to see you all again." Turning she looked at each in turn with a smile for them before turning away from the window. Purposely she strode across the room, tapping her communicator as she moved. "Connect to ship's computer. Computer commence a 30 minute countdown with alerts at ten minute interval relayed through my comm badge. Confirm the request."

"Confirmed," responded the feminine voice of a Star Fleet coded computer system.

"Computer, consolidate all personal files for transfer to isolinear storage in my assigned quarters." she continued moving out the door and down the corridor towards the turbolift. "Confirm please."

"Pending confirmation. Clarify if personal files includes pattern files for replicator fabrication." queried the voice from the communication badge on her tunic.

"All files means all files computer. I will disembarking the ship shortly. Provide update on countdown please." For a split second Miriam hesitated as she entered the turbolift trying to remember the closest junction to her quarters. Shrugging she settled for letting the computer decide. "Take me to the closest access point to my quarters please."

Spotting a group of young officers double timing it towards the turbo lift, Miriam ordered the computer to hold the door while motioning them to get in. 

"Files are prepped for transfer," announced her comm badge. "Countdown is 27 minutes and 12 seconds."

Miriam leaned back against the wall for a moment taking the time for a deep breath as the ensigns murmured to each other. The file transfers would be quick and she could start it before she did the check on her med kit and tricorder. A quick sonic shower, recycle this uniform before grabbing another then ready. 

The turbolift doors opened and Miriam squeezed past the other users to exit to the corridor. Luckily she recognized this junction and made it to her quarters quickly. Sensing her entry a subdued lighting came on punctuated by a slowly flashing  green light on the cabin terminal indicating  the file transfer she'd requested was ready. Moving to the bunk she grabbed the leather back pack lying on the floor and reached in to pull out the flat yellow crystal from the side pouch. With a laminate coating making it stronger than many metals the isolinear crystal held the pattern for everything from holographic family photos, to patterns for scalpels and dresses, and even the family secret of her mother's R'lythian fruit pie recipe. Smoothly she slotted it into the computer terminal.

"Computer, please commence backup of personal files to the chip in place in my quarters," she requested shucking off her uniform and undergarments. Stepping into the small stall containing the sonic shower and the refresher she took a moment to take a few more deep breathes as she assessed her reflection. 

"Miriam Sepguta." Putting on an air of her best professional confidence she continued, "Welcome to the next step in your life. This isn't crisis response. New orders, new job, new facility. Everything is going to be fine." Her reflection seemed a little less sure than Miriam would have liked but only a hint of the excitement she was feeling in heart showed in the reflection. 

Miriam moved into the shower feeling the pressure waves of sound massage her skin. New uniform. Recycle old. Grab the comm badge. She continued to mentally update the list of tasks in her head, deleting the things already done. She was just stepping out of the shower cubicle when the comm badge on her tunic gave a muffled beep to alert her to the passing of time.

Plenty of time then who knew? Glancing in the mirror Miriam saw far too much excitement on the face of her reflection. "Stop that dear," she said crossly. "You're a doctor. Act like one." Her reflection dutifully looked somber while it occurred to Miriam she would look far more professional if she weren't naked. "Uniforms, chip, my medical tricorder, comm badge and backpack" she said aloud updating her list of preparations while pulling her panties on.

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Anjala gave J'sira a nod and added, "If we don't see each other again, take care of yourself J'sira."

She clapped her Academy friend on the shoulder, then turned and gave Miriam a wave as she headed back out into the corridor outside. From there at a jog she went to her quarters and started throwing odds and ends into a duffle bag. A little collection of mementos from friends left behind on Earth. Some pictures of family. A few items of non-uniform clothes she'd brought with her.

This wasn't her first rodeo, but the feeling of excitement and trepidation mingling was the same now as it had been the first time she shipped out.

Ugh, please let it go better this time though. It couldn't very well go worse.

Once in a fresh uniform, her duffel hanging over her left shoulder, Anjala headed out to debark onto the starbase and await her assignment.

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After exchanging farewells, J'Sira exited the lounge and, after a short turbolift ride, returned to her quarters. The doors hissed pen and there was a noticeable temperature difference at the threshold as she stepped through, her quarters being a good ten to fifteen degrees Celsius warmer than the general 'room temperature' of the ship to more closely simulate the climate of Vulcan. Stepping in she found the embrace of warmth comforting, bringing a small, relaxed smile to her lips.

She looked about her temporary quarters, which were virtually identical to how they were when she arrived. Being temporary lodgings, J'Sira had not bothered to unpack to any particular degree, leaving virtually everything, aside from her uniforms, in her pack. She collected her uniforms, folded all but one of them neatly and packed them before making a circuit of the room to ensure that, in the extreme unlikelihood that she had forgotten something,it would be found now.

"Computer." she said, causing it it to chime, "Reset climate conditions to default settings." she instructed, to which the computer chimed in acknowledgement of the received command.

Aside from her uniforms, her pack contained a few personal items from home, such as a carved incense burner and a few figurines, her broken in cestuses for practicing qEl'qrA, a few isolinear chips with some patterns of her mother's cooking, a few non-standard items, holodeck programs and her personal files, a few PADDS, a neatly rolled Ha'quj, her Vulcan robes, a vintage hardback copy of "Thus Spoke Zarathustra" and a few other odds and ends.

Returning to the middle of the room, J'Sira knelt down and closed her eyes, quieting her mind and calming her heart for a brief medication. She wished to be refreshed and ready to carry out her new orders with alacrity and efficiency. For a moment her mind drifted to the game she had just played, the new people she had met and the catching up with Lt. Batim, an old friend from her Academy days. Having left behind the Exeter, it was good to see a familiar face, something that she appreciated more than she had anticipated. She was not sure where she and the others would end up, but should they be stationed together, then she decided that she would do her best to ensure that Anjala could participate in any further games and not feel singled out.

Finally opening her eyes again, J'Sira spoke,

"Computer." she said, causing it it to chime, "Estimate time until docking with Asgard station." she asked.

The computer chimed and replied in the characteristically calm tone,

"At current course and speed, estimated docking with Asgard Station in seventeen minutes, thirty-five seconds."

J'sira nodded, rose and approached the uniform she had left out, addressing the computer once again,

"Computer. Reset climate conditions to default settings." she instructed, to which the computer chimed in acknowledgement.

After changing into it and packing the uniform she had just taken off, J'Sira shouldered her pack and picked up her toolkit, her mother's very own which she had given J'Sira when she left Starfleet Academy, and stood by the door where she looked in the mirror for a moment, ensuring her uniform and appearance were impeccable before she exited the room for her disembarkation station and whatever her new orders might bring.

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Michael stood there for a few moments, taking it all in.  It was, without a doubt, an impressive sight to not only see Asgard Station, but still see it being build.  There was a certain nostalgia to seeing something built and wondering if he'd ever come back this way again years form now and see it completed.  Like old people were fond of saying on Earth centuries ago (and still today) 'I remember when all this used to be...'.  He smiled quietly at the thought of whether or not he'd be that sort of old man.  Or whether he'd live to see 'old'.  Garner had drawn a target on him, chances are he'd contact his mother and she'd request that the next shipt designed would be cylindrical so Garner could fly it straight up Jensen's-...

"Astronomers." T'Set said calmly.

"I'm sorry, what?  I-I was somewhere else..." He admitted, trying to wipe a mental image from his brain canvas.

She offered a warm smile.  "Astronomers, I said.  It's amazing how throughout all cultures they used to dream of all that was among the stars, and here was are, just starting our careers with endless opportunities to see all that others' dreamt of seeing.  It's very exciting."

He seemed to understand, but like always didn't seem very interested.  It was hard to guess what went on inside Jensen's mind, but most people either got used to it or just thought he was weird.  "Umm, I should go get my things together and.  T-thanks for helping out with Garner.  Chances are he's gonna kill me, so, if he does, do me a favor and tell my family I loved them."  She was pretty sure that was humor, but he was just to dry it was hard to tell.  "S-seriously.  Thanks.  I appreciated it."

In a very unofficer-like manner, he tucked his hands in the pockets of his uniform, turned and walked off to collect his belongings.

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The Maranval moved toward the station and a set of huge doors began to slide aside timed perfectly to finish they're opening as the small starship crossed the threshold into the interior of the station. Those not on duty and who could observe the exterior of the ship were treated to a sight that in not all that usual for a working starship, that of docking within one o fthe massive bays used in construction and repair. They were also treated to the sight of another starship already docked in the very next berth, the USS Destiny a New Orleans class, New and modern and a surprising sight to find one docked. A cursory visual inspection could find no damage or any other reason.

 

USS Destiny

Captain Raymer came onto the bridge from the captains, her ready room. She really needed to get her head wrapped around this situation. “Mr Cutter looks like our officer replacements are finally arriving.”

“Well better late than never sir, I suppose.”

Raymer chuckled “Captain Zhao is having all the replacements to gather in the Alpha Galleria on the station. I already sent Prescott down to get them oriented and start bringing them aboard, before they start hearing rumors. Most of them don't even know they have been assigned to us and it's going to be a mess just to get everyone in and settled. I really don't know what starfleet is thinking. Regardless we shall soldier on. I want you to get down there and collect these officers bring them up to the ready room first thing.”

She handed the seasoned noncom a padd and he looked at it. “So these are the chosen damned?” He glanced up into scowling eyes “I'll get em pronto Cap'n”

 

Alpha Galleria

Asgard Station

It was a sea of unfamiliar faces and it was simple natural instinct to gather with those you had some familiarity with. So the young ensigns and the three lieutenants found themselves all standing along on of the nicely decorated walls of the huge meeting hall while all across the hall similar groups were forming up all under the blueish light shining in from the giant window which took up the far side of the hall which showed the inside of the station. They could just see the front curve of the Destiny's saucer at the very edge of the window which gave them some sense of where they were in the station. As they had entered the hall each person had been given a new Padd which they were told to key to themselves as soon as they found a spot to do so and to await further instructions.

V'Lar had drifted along with the other not out of any sense of comradeship simple because it was the easiest way to go she found herself standing next to the young ensign from the lounge on his other side was the other Vulcan ensign. V'lar had entered the requisite details and her personal passcode, as soon as the device recognized her it began showing her her orders. It seemed that she was being assigned to the USS Destiny, a Ship which was itself assigned to Asgard Station. The Destiny's mission was wide ranging she was the lead starship in this region and was tasked with all the usually Starfleet duties normally given to much larger explorer type ship. V'lar looked around and saw many looking at there padds and at the large crowd. This was very unusual

J'Sira looked up from her padd after reading her orders and once again verified her estimate of the amount of personnel in the room. She counted approximately 70, mostly crewmen and specialist in fact other than obvious station personnel she and those she stood with were the only officers present. What could have happened to the crew of the ship she had just been assigned to.

 

 

Spoiler

each of you have the same orders attaching you to the Destiny, the orders still, though do not place you in any departments they are just general orders...  I iwll give a little time to talk among yourselvs if you want to rp a bit more if not I will push forward soon.

 

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J'Sira raised an eyebrow as she looked about the hall, considering the situation. The Destiny was not a newly constructed ship and therefore must have had a crew for some time. It was no unusual for existing crew to be reassigned and new crew assigned, but normally it was no more than one or two dozen personnel, sometime no more than a half dozen. This though... this would be a significant portion of her crew.

"Most unusual." she said as she considered possible scenarios that could result in this situation.

"What's that?" Lt. Batim  asked, looking up from her own orders.

"It would appear that we are being assigned to the Destiny. All of us by the look of things." she said, nodding the room which was beginning to fill with chatter about orders and lots of people looking up from their orders to look at the window at the Destiny. 

"Station personnel aside, I count approximately 70 in this room, that would constitute approximately 38.9% of the crew for a ship of her size. Not an insignificant sum, and certainly far more than I am aware of being assigned at once outside of a shakedown cruise. So it begs the question; what happened to her crew? The ship does not appear to be damaged, so losses due to an engagement is unlikely." she explained, looking around the hall at the newly assigned crew.

"Additionally, for having such a large number of new personnel assigned, there appears to be few officers here, consisting of only us three Lieutenants and the dozen newly graduated ensigns. The approximately 55 others here are all enlisted... crewmen and specialists. And further, there is a distinct lack of senior officers as well. Not a single officer above Lieutenant among us." she added, double checking the room to verify.

"This is all highly unusual." she said with almost a hint of confusion, or was it irritation, in her voice.

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"A bit," responded Miriam staring at at the PADD in her hand while absently biting her lower lip. "These orders are very non-specific. 'Report to the USS Destiny for duties assigned.' Medical personnel are usually detailed to fill specific roles. Even if the role is administrative or a subordinate support position. This is the first time I've received orders this," she hesitated for a moment searching for the right word then finished with, "generic."

"It is very curious," Miriam finished, looking at the other five in the group.

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Ensign Jensen stood quietly, reading his pad and listening to the endless supply of rumor, hearsay, and the usual scuttlebutt.  It appeared as if the 'professionalism' of senior enlisted and officers was no different than the junior ranks within Starfleet Academy, if given the chance they would talk and talk about anything and everything, never quite grasping that they had a job to and were they meant to know more than that, they'd already have been read into what was going on.

"The rivers know this:," Jensen said softly.  "There is no hurry."

He tucked his tablet under his arm and waited patiently.  He'd know his assignment soon enough.

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